Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
We were served some classic Italian dishes and could pick from a variety. The kids, naturally, went with pizza made from scratch that had fresh ingredients. At least it was as healthy as it could be.
I helped myself to some fresh spinach and radicchio salad, savoring the mix of flavors while chatting with Becca. I said, “I was thinking of building a playscape for the kids in the yard of the compound. They may have a ball with it when we’re not able to make it to the park.”
Becca nodded, taking a bite of her own salad and considering my words. “Good call, James.” She looked over toward the kids and smiled, giving a little wave. Both Alessandro and Dahlia waved back, letting out happy giggles. They were behaving very well tonight.
Then, Becca said, “You come up with wonderful ideas. It will be nice if they want some ‘quiet’ together, but also to have fun. Or, if the adults want quiet. That’s also a completely valid situation,” she said, winking at me.
I chuckled and nodded in agreement. We finished up our salad, then were served four cheese lasagna. The savory scent of melting cheese caused me to lick my lips. The chef we hired was one of the top chefs in the area. I knew this was going to be good.
Cutting into my food, I took a deep breath as the cheese oozed onto the plate, mixed with the juicy meat and well-added spices. On the first bite, I knew I was right to be excited. I hummed with satisfaction as the rich taste practically sang with my tongue.
The festivities continued after dinner on the dance floor. I took Becca into the center, engaging in a slow dance with her once again. We turned in time to the music, the moment completely magical. She pressed against me, resting her head against my chest as we danced.
I was filled with a sense of pure happiness as we danced together. Here I was, finally wed to a woman I loved with all my heart. The kids were dancing as well, not very coordinated, but watched over by Madeline. This caused my smile to widen.
“Now for some more light-hearted, fun songs!” the DJ said into the microphone, causing me to chuckle. The music now belted out with a bit more energy, riling up the guests. Becca and I did some high-energy dancing for a while before having to go sit off to the side.
We’d been lost in the moment so much, I almost had to wipe some sweat away from my forehead. Becca beamed at me, pointing to the photo booth. “We should have Madeline bring the kids over there so we can take some silly pictures!”
I nodded, waving Madeline over. She brought the kids, and off we went to the booth, entering it for some fun. Sure, we had the wedding photographer, but these pictures would be priceless as well. Not everything had to be perfect.
Dahlia was squealing and squirming about, just happy to be here. She was grinning from ear to ear, keeling with laughter especially as I began to tickle her. That made for a very adorable picture, one that made my grin widen even further.
Alessandro often took pictures with his tongue hanging out, mimicking Becca’s silly looks. I couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking my head. I just had to take a picture where I was trying to pull off the most serious expression possible while everyone else looked goofy.
Becca tried to do the same as me, for a picture, but kept cracking, giving way to a smile. We were probably in that booth for a good fifteen minutes and had so many pictures for our memories. “You’ll have to get a scrapbook,” I said.
“And decorate it with pink horses and roses!” Becca agreed, giving a chuckle. Soon, we left the booth, letting the kids go have their fun without us distracting them. Becca watched them go off to play with a huge smile before turning to hug me.
I returned the hug, holding her close and resting my chin on the top of her head. “Tonight has been so perfect,” Becca said, causing me to give a wide smile. I closed my eyes, letting a tear trickle down my face and just remaining silent in response for a moment.
Then, I said, “It is.” My voice dripped with adoration for her. When the hug ended, I gave her a deep kiss, one she squealed happily over. We returned to the dance floor for a while until I went to sit off at the side, leaning back in the chair.
Something caught my eye as I looked at the window. Was that someone peering into the hall? I furrowed my brow, not liking the spike of anxiety that suddenly rushed through me. There was something going on outside.
I stood up from my chair and stretched, starting to make my way toward the back door of the hall. However, Giovani intercepted me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I hope you’re not worrying too much, James,” he said, tilting his head.
“I think something’s going on outside,” I said, shaking my head. “I saw someone looking in, and am concerned. I don’t want this wedding, our perfect night, to be interrupted.” Giovani gave me a serious nod, narrowing his eyes.
“Oh, it won’t be,” he said. “Don’t worry, James. I’ve gotten it taken care of.”
Neal.
I knew I was going to miss the wedding, but I didn’t want to intrude on Becca during that time, even if James was a prick. I just needed to see her happy. One more time. Before I could move on with my life.
The conversation on the phone played out in my head again and again. I needed to move on, but I couldn’t stop hearing her voice in my mind. I wished things had worked out between us, but that sadly wasn’t meant to be.
“Why can’t I stop thinking about you, Becca?” I asked aloud, my knuckles white on the steering wheel as I parked my car at a bar. The wedding would be going on right now, but I wasn’t close enough to make it, anyway.
What would I do? Say that they shouldn’t be married, or it should be called off? No. I just wanted to see her happy. Allegra sounded none too pleased on the phone, and I couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t healthy.
Yet, here I was.
Well, drinks at the bar would drown away some of that. The moon shone clear overhead as I got out of my car, letting out a sigh. There was loud discussion and laughter pouring from the bar, as expected. I didn’t feel like conversing all that much but would have to deal with it.
Some areas were lit up more brightly than others, and admittedly, the interior was simply sublime. The walls were decorated with vines and leaves that went over the arched doors. The floors were of pristine carved wood, and the walls were made of rough stone.
There were small carved statues on display of badgers, bears, and wolves, but also of famous people throughout history. This entire place was a work of art, and the well-dressed people here were clearly having the time of their lives.
Wide smiles stretched across their faces as laughter rippled from their lips, exaggerated movements of the inebriated in full display. There was no aggressive taunting or rowdiness here. Just a bunch of people enjoying themselves in a positive environment.
I walked up to the attendant standing at the door. He appeared to be a bouncer of sorts, though it didn’t seem like an establishment like this would need one. He eyed me with a smile. I was dressed formally enough, though as I studied the people here, realized not every single person was fixed up in a fancy suit. It probably wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t completely dressed up.
“Hello there, sir,” said the man, giving me a kind smile. “Welcome to Florintine’s,” he said with a smile. His voice was loud, likely to compete with the patrons at the bar who were chattering up a storm. “There are plenty of tables and spots at the bar.”
“A spot at the bar would be lovely,” I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice for myself. I really shouldn’t be hellbent on visiting Becca one last time, but here I was. At least being off track would distract me for a while.
He nodded and gestured for me to go ahead. I took a place on a stool, giving a nod to the bartender, who took my order. As I waited for my drink, I sighed and placed my elbows on the table, staring off at the other wall and cursing myself for this decision.
This was a bad idea. I really needed to just get over it. I didn’t see the point of visiting Becca again, yet here I was, unable to get her out of my head. Again, and again, our conversations played out through my mind.
She didn’t miss me, and shouldn’t have to, that was clear. I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair, clenching my other fist and shaking my head. When my drink arrived, I immediately took several gulps, hoping I wouldn’t end up texting her.
“You look a bit cross,” came a soft voice off to my side in Italian. Not feeling particularly social, I let out a sigh, my shoulders slumping. Well, I’d be hooked into a conversation now. I turned my head to fix my eyes on someone that looked positively gorgeous.
He had a chiseled jawline with slightly tan skin, displaying a very soft, kind smile as he looked at me. His teeth were perfect, and he wore a well-tailored suit. There was the shadow of a goatee on him as well. Very tantalizing.
His hair was slicked back a bit, and he had deep, brown eyes. I bit my lip, feeling my voice catch at his observation. “Sorry for bringing the place down,” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck, hoping he understood English. I wasn’t about to fumble my way through a conversation in a language I was still trying to learn.
He shook his head, furrowing his brow but not losing his smile. “What? No, you aren’t bringing us down. You look like you could use someone to talk to, though,” he said. He took a sip of his mixed drink and kept that soft smile of his. “I’m all ears, if you’d like. Sometimes, ranting helps a lot.”
I was skeptical but put an order in for another drink. At first, I decided I wasn’t going to spill everything to this guy. Far from it. I started off with, “I’m Neal. Thank you for not being annoyed by my trouble. Someone to talk to would be nice.” I gave a sip of my drink and contemplated things.
“That is of no worry,” he said, his accent heavy. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind me speaking English instead of Italian. This guy was clearly bilingual, which I was thankful for. I could do English and Russian fluently, but I hadn’t lived in Italy long enough to master the language.
Where to begin? I sighed, staring at my glass for a moment while contemplating my life. How did I get here? Would he care? I stole a glance up at him to realize he was waiting patiently. Still gorgeous, with that wonderful sparkle in his eye.
Eventually, I broke my silence. “I just can’t seem to get over a woman, that’s all,” I said finally. “I wanted to visit her one last time. Just one more time. She is with someone who hasn’t been there for her in the past.”
“Oh,” the guy said. “I’m Mariano. Pleasure to meet you, Neal. Just one more time, hm?” He took a sip of his drink and studied me closely. His gaze caused my stomach to clench. Were those butterflies darting around in there? I licked my lips nervously.
He said, “Is that entirely healthy, though? You seem a bit hung up on it, after all. Especially if this is a woman you ‘cannot get over.’ Will seeing her again make you happy?” He tilted his head, a few strands of his dark hair falling into his face.
I provided him a half-hearted shrug, genuinely unsure. Would visiting Becca one more time help me? What about when I was still unable to break away from her? This guy, Mariano, was certainly interrupting my thoughts. I was distracted, to be honest.
“No,” I sighed, admitting it to him and myself. “It probably wouldn’t. Maybe as a friend. But that’s not my intent right now. I just feel so lonesome. I thought she would fill that hole in my heart. I should accept that it’s not true.”
“You should,” Mariano agreed, taking a sip of his drink and giving a soft smile. “It’s hard to give up a lover. I’ve had many men in the past who have turned out not quite right for me. It’s a shame, really.”
Many men in the past. I found myself blushing, unable to help it. This guy had the potential of being interested in me. I licked my lips, trying to dismiss any thoughts of me getting together with him. We just met, after all. This was as silly as first love in a fairy tale.
“You’re very wise, Mariano. It is hard. I told her I was through with her, but I don’t think I meant it. A moment of weakness from a weak man,” I said, burying my face in my hands for a moment before letting out a soft groan. So vulnerable in front of this stranger.
Rather than poking fun, Mariano said in a serious tone, “Listen. Emotions are real, and they are complicated. You may not have meant it then, but maybe it would be healthy to mean it now. This is tearing you apart, clearly. I may be just a stranger, but I can see it.”
