No More 52nd Wedding

Cecilia Marino's POV

For the three years I was with Antonio Bianco, I had always believed I held a special place in his heart.

That belief shattered when his older brother, Augusto Bianco, was gunned down by a rival famiglia. With his dying breath, Augusto begged Antonio to look after his wife, Rosetta Serra.

Since that day, I was no longer the only woman he cared about.

We had attempted to hold our wedding 50 times, yet Antonio had never managed to see a single one through to the end.

He would furrow his brow whenever he saw Rosetta's name flash on his phone, yet without fail, he would answer in a gentle voice, listening patiently to whatever she had to say.

In the end, he would pull me into an apologetic embrace and tell me that some "urgent famiglia business" required his immediate attention. After all, he would say, we would always have another chance.

In his eyes, I always seemed less important than the guilt he carried for Augusto.

But the love we shared for those three years hadn't felt like a lie. So, I chose to believe.

For the 51st time, I stood before him in my white veil, waiting for the moment he would finally slide the ring onto my finger.

Suddenly, Rosetta appeared at the wedding venue, her face pale, clutching a handkerchief to her chest with tears in her eyes.

"Antonio, something happened at the docks Augusto left for me. The elders are all there. I… I'm terrified. Can you come with me?"

The moment Antonio saw her, he instinctively let go of my hand.

"I'm sorry, Cecilia. I need to go back for a while."

Perhaps afraid I would get angry, he attempted a half-hearted joke. "Besides, it's not like this is the 52nd time. We're just going through the motions anyway."

Usually, I would have swallowed my pride in silence. But this time, I grabbed his hand before he could leave.

"Is this really about famiglia business, or do you simply not want to marry me?"

Antonio frowned at my question.

"Rosetta is my sister-in-law. She's carrying Augusto's child and still has to deal with famiglia business. It's hard enough for her. Don't make a fuss over something so petty."

Rosetta lowered her eyes and said nothing, only gently tugging at his sleeve.

"This is our wedding ceremony. How can you call this petty? Antonio, we just need to exchange the rings, and the ceremony will be complete. Please…"

I didn't want Antonio to leave. I wanted to finish the ceremony once and for all.

Antonio stood frozen, torn between Rosetta and me.

Suddenly, Rosetta clutched her stomach and crouched down, groaning in pain.

Antonio rushed to her side in a panic, catching her before she hit the floor.

"Rosetta, what's wrong? Does your stomach hurt? I'll take you back right now!"

Before I could say anything, Antonio turned to glare at me, his eyes reddening.

"Cecilia, the child Rosetta carries is Augusto's only bloodline. If anything happens to that child, I will never forgive myself!"

With that, he scooped Rosetta into his arms and strode out of the chapel.

As the doors swung open, I caught Rosetta glancing back at me, her lips curled into a smile of pure triumph.

…

I spent the rest of the evening forcing a smile as I ushered out the associates and family friends. By the time the last guest had gone, I stood in the hotel lobby, exhausted to the bone.

The manager approached me, handing over the day's bill with a look of sympathy. "Ms. Marino, when should we reschedule? I'll make sure the date is cleared for you."

Before I could find my voice, the television in the lobby cut to a breaking news segment.

"Antonio Bianco, the newly anointed Don of the Bianco famiglia, was spotted attending a council meeting with his late brother's widow, Rosetta Serra. The matching rings on their left hands have sparked frantic speculation."

The screen flashed a photo of Antonio with his arm draped protectively around Rosetta's shoulders, his free hand raised in a sharp gesture to ward off the prying lenses of the paparazzi.

Rosetta, tucked into his side, wore a smile that was nothing short of triumphant.

At the same time, Rosetta's Twitter feed updated with a photo of Antonio anxiously speaking with a doctor. The caption read: "Happiness is having you by my side for every prenatal checkup."

Around me, the hotel staff was whispering.

"They've held the wedding dozens of times, haven't they? Not once has it actually finished."

"Her fiance keeps ditching her for another woman."

"Does her fiance even love her?"

"To be left at the altar that many times and still cling on… She just has no pride."

A lump formed in my throat, and I could barely hold back my tears. I clenched my hands tightly, pretending I hadn't heard a word.

Just then, my phone vibrated with a message.

"Ms. Marino, this is Kyle Rossi, Head of the International Medical Organization. We are convening the International Medical Summit and launching a global relief effort. We would like to invite you to join us. We look forward to your reply."

The message was a jarring reminder of the woman I used to be. Before I started dating Antonio, I had been a doctor with the International Medical Organization, but I traded that in for a stable life with him.

I closed the message as thoughts of Antonio flooded back.

…

It was the middle of the night when Antonio finally returned. He looked exhausted, his collar rumpled.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him in heavy silence.

He walked over and pulled me into his arms.

"Rosetta is carrying Augusto's child. I couldn't just stand by and let anything happen to his flesh and blood."

He paused, his voice softening. "I left you alone at the wedding again. I know I've failed you, but I swear this was the last time."

"Your birthday is in three days," he whispered earnestly. "Let's make that our 52nd attempt. Trust me. I won't let you down this time."

I remained quiet for a long moment before gently pushing him away. "Antonio, the next one will be our 52nd wedding. And it will be your last chance."