Chapter 8 - THE TABLE NEAR THE KITCHEN
Z
One year later, Roman Rossi married Sadi Miller in a small ceremony beside Lake Michigan.
There were no gunshots.
No fire alarms.
No Mafia ambushes.
Roman considered this an extraordinary success.
Sadi considered the standard embarrassingly low.
They invited eighty people.
Roman originally wanted thirty.
Sadi’s mother wanted two hundred.
They compromised.
Chloe was matron of honor.
Roman’s security chief, Marco, served as best man and spent the entire ceremony scanning rooftops despite Sadi repeatedly reminding him they were at a botanical garden.
Derek did not attend.
He sent flowers.
The card contained four words.
You deserve this happiness.
Sadi kept the card.
Not because she still loved him.
Because once, she had believed her happiness depended on his regret.
Now she understood something better.
Closure was not watching someone who hurt you suffer.
It was reaching a point where their opinion no longer controlled the temperature of your day.
Her mother helped button her dress.
For several minutes, Elaine said nothing.
Then:
“You look beautiful.”
Sadi met her eyes through the mirror.
“Thank you.”
No discussion about weight.
No suggestion about angles.
No comments about dieting before the honeymoon.
Just beautiful.
Sadi smiled.
Her mother began crying.
“Oh, please don’t.”
“I’m allowed.”
“You’ve already ruined your mascara twice.”
“I bought waterproof.”
“Clearly you bought badly.”
Elaine laughed.
Then her expression softened.
“I’m sorry.”
Sadi knew exactly what she meant.
“I know.”
“I wish I’d taught you earlier that you never had to become smaller to deserve a room.”
Sadi looked at herself.
Thirty years old.
Soft.
Curvy.
Strong.
Wearing ivory silk without shapewear because she had decided breathing during her own wedding was important.
“I learned eventually.”
Her mother squeezed her hand.
“Yes.”
When the ceremony began, Sadi walked alone.
Her father had offered to escort her.
She loved him.
But she wanted those final steps for herself.
Roman waited beneath a canopy of white roses.
Black suit.
White shirt.
No tie.
Because apparently even marriage could not persuade Roman Rossi to tolerate one.
He looked exactly as he had the first evening he arrived at her apartment.
Dangerous.
Controlled.
Too powerful for the surroundings.
Except now Sadi knew the things other people did not.
She knew he snored slightly after drinking whiskey.
She knew he pretended not to like her stray cat and secretly paid the veterinarian bills.
She knew he hated peas.
She knew he sometimes woke from nightmares and sat beside the window until dawn.
She knew he could order twenty armed men into action without raising his voice.
And she knew he had cried the afternoon she received her conservation certification.
Only once.
He denied it completely.
When Sadi reached him, Roman took her hands.
“You’re late.”
She stared.
“I am three minutes early.”
“I’ve been waiting twenty minutes.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
Guests laughed.
Roman smiled.
The officiant began.
Sadi heard almost none of it.
She watched Roman instead.
When they reached the vows, Roman unfolded a piece of paper.
Sadi’s eyebrows rose.
“You wrote something?”
“Apparently people do that.”
“You researched weddings?”
“Thoroughly.”
She laughed.
Roman looked down at the paper.
Then folded it again.
“I don’t need this.”
“Roman.”
“I know.”
He took both her hands.
“The first promise I ever made you was fake.”
Sadi smiled.
“I agreed to pretend I was your boyfriend because it gave me something I needed.”
Guests laughed softly.
Roman continued.
“I thought every relationship was a transaction.”
His eyes remained on hers.
“And then you asked me not to bring a gun to a rehearsal dinner.”
More laughter.
“I brought one anyway.”
“Of course you did.”
Roman’s smile appeared.
Then disappeared.
“You taught me that protecting someone doesn’t mean controlling them.”
His voice grew quieter.
“You taught me that being needed and being loved are not the same thing.”
Sadi’s throat tightened.
“And you taught me that the safest life isn’t always the one where nobody can reach you.”
He squeezed her hands.
“Sometimes safety is knowing exactly who will stand beside you when everything goes wrong.”
Sadi was crying now.
“So I promise something real today.”
Roman glanced toward their guests.
“No matter what room you enter, no matter where they seat you, no matter what anyone thinks they see when they look at you…”
His eyes returned to hers.
“You will never stand alone again.”
Sadi lost whatever remained of her composure.
The officiant handed her a tissue.
She laughed while wiping her eyes.
“My turn?”
Roman nodded.
She had written vows.
Beautiful vows.
Three pages.
She forgot every word.
So she looked at him.
“The night you heard me asking the universe for a boyfriend, I thought my problem was that nobody wanted me.”
Roman’s expression softened.
“I thought if I walked into my sister’s rehearsal dinner with someone impressive enough, Derek would regret leaving me.”
She smiled.
“And maybe my mother would stop worrying.”
Elaine laughed through tears.
“And maybe I could finally prove I wasn’t the disappointing daughter.”
Sadi took a breath.
“But none of that was the real problem.”
The garden became silent.
“I didn’t need Derek to regret losing me.”
She squeezed Roman’s hands.
“I needed to stop regretting being myself.”
Roman’s jaw tightened with emotion.
“You didn’t save me from being alone.”
Sadi smiled.
“You showed up while I learned I was already enough.”
A tear escaped Roman’s eye.
Sadi gasped dramatically.
“Marco.”
Roman immediately narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t.”
Marco called from the front row.
“I saw nothing, boss.”
Everyone laughed.
Sadi reached up and wiped Roman’s cheek.
“And then,” she whispered, “you became the person I wanted beside me anyway.”
The officiant declared them husband and wife.
Roman kissed her before being instructed.
Naturally.
At the reception, Sadi discovered Roman had personally arranged the seating.
“What did you do?”
He handed her the chart.
Table one held their closest family.
Table two contained Chloe, Marco, and several friends.
Near the kitchen sat one small table.
Sadi stared at it.
“Why is there a table twelve?”
Roman’s expression remained perfectly serious.
“For us.”
“What?”
“I thought we should eat dessert there.”
“Why?”
He extended his hand.
Sadi understood.
Smiling, she followed him.
They sat together at the small table near the kitchen doors.
One year earlier, Sadi’s mother had placed her there because she thought hiding her would make everyone more comfortable.
Now Sadi sat there in a wedding gown worth more than her first car, beside the most intimidating man in Chicago, eating chocolate cake directly from his plate.
Roman watched her steal another bite.
“You have your own.”
“Yours tastes better.”
“They’re identical.”
“That sounds like an accusation.”
He shook his head.
Across the ballroom, people danced.
Her mother laughed.
Her father argued with Marco about baseball.
Chloe was barefoot.
Everything was loud and imperfect.
Everything was hers.
Roman reached beneath the table and took her hand.
Sadi looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m married.”
“You’ve been married for four hours.”
“I’m adjusting.”
Sadi leaned closer.
“Regrets?”
Roman looked almost offended.
“Never.”
She kissed his cheek.
Then she glanced toward the kitchen doors and remembered that exhausted woman standing over a sink, believing a boyfriend was the solution to everything wrong with her life.
She wished she could speak to that version of herself.
She would tell her that tomorrow would arrive.
That Derek’s opinion would fade.
That her mother would learn.
That the dress would fit without her body changing.
That the terrifying man sitting in the shadows would eventually burn lasagna, adopt a stray cat, and cry at their wedding.
But mostly, she would tell her one thing.
You do not need to become smaller for somebody to choose you.
Roman squeezed her hand.
“Where did you go?”
Sadi smiled.
“Nowhere.”
She rested her head against his shoulder.
“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Roman kissed the top of her head.
And near the kitchen, at the table that had once represented everything Sadi believed was wrong with her, she finally understood the truth.
She had never needed someone powerful enough to prove her worth.
She had only needed to recognize it herself.
Roman had not rescued her.
He had simply been standing beside her when she finally stopped asking permission to take up space.
And if Roman Rossi happened to look terrifyingly pleased about being the man beside her?
Well.
May you like
That was just a bonus.
THE END
