NaNo - Day 2

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- Alessio - 

It was just after Vasilisa's twenty-first birthday. A carefully selected group of attendees gathered in a hotel ballroom in Manhattan. The sky was surprisingly clear for November, the air outside crisp enough to see passing people's breaths through the windows. Estevan and Charlotte had been invited, but their chairs were noticeably empty, a physical picture of their displeasure with the arrangement Thaddeus had made for their oldest granddaughter. Thaddeus walked Vasilisa toward Alessio and placed her small, soft hands in his calloused ones. Even though it was a rushed affair, the bride still wore a shiny white dress that, in Alessio's opinion, almost swallowed her. The edge of the ballgown touched the floor, and the multiple layers of fabric seemed to be pinned with flowers that were bordered in crystal. Her long, dark hair hung in an intricately fashioned ponytail with a few curls framing her oval face. Her Caribbean blue eyes never met his, instead focused on the ground almost like she could drill a hole through it if she tried hard enough.

Why had he agreed to this? She was obviously miserable; the pain of her interrupted nuptials with Hugh Barback must have still been too fresh. Alessio wanted to wipe away the tear that he saw roll down her cheek, but he didn't dare touch her. Not like that. They repeated the vows as instructed by the minister. When the man told them they could kiss, Vasilisa finally looked at him. The terror in her gaze pierced his soul. She straightened her back and leaned toward him in an almost mechanical manner, but Alessio turned his cheek at the last moment so their lips didn't touch. He wasn't sure if she slumped out of gratefulness or disappointment.

Mr. and Mrs. Alessio Milani. Vasilisa Milani.

Was this real, or was it all just a sick version of a nightmare?

They'd eaten a three-course meal with Thaddeus, Liliana, and their daughter, Karisa. Everyone would've been silent if it weren't for the baby making all sorts of noises that made Lily laugh. Meanwhile, Vasilisa only managed a nervous smile. She barely touched her food, simply cut it and pushed it around on plate to look like she ate more than she did. All Vasi had said since the ceremony began was her vows. Alessio wanted to ease her worries, but he didn't know how. And even if he did, he had a feeling any words of comfort wouldn't work. She was trying to hide her fear behind a plastic-looking smile, but Alessio knew better. He'd seen fear—in the eyes of his fellow soldiers, in the eyes of hunted animals, and in the eyes of hunted terrorists. It didn't matter, that fear remained visible. Vasilisa had the look of a deer in headlights.

He was again struck by just how terrible of an idea this was, but he couldn't let Thaddeus down. Thaddeus was counting on him...and now Vasilisa was depending on him, too. For heaven's sakes, he was now married. It would take some time to grow accustomed to that. He had a wife and he was now a husband.

Thaddeus had rented them a single room in the hotel, although it was a large space. There was a small in-suite kitchen, a table, a sofa, and a coffee table. A large flat-screen TV was mounted to the wall. He'd changed into a pair of sweatpants that hung loosely on his hips and a cotton V-neck t-shirt, but Vasilisa was still in the bathroom—doing what, Alessio had no earthly idea. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and left them there until he heard the door creaking open and the bathroom light leaking into the otherwise dark room.

His throat tightened, and his heart lurched into his throat as understanding finally donned.

The flowy, almost translucent shift she was wearing hid almost nothing. She hadn't turned off the bathroom light when she left, and it silhouetted her perfect form. The straps on her shoulders were thin, and one was threatening to roll off. The pale pink nightgown didn't even reach her midthigh. He could see every single curve, every piece of light fabric she wore...and every piece she wasn't. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, he couldn't hear, and his body temperature was so warm, it probably would've registered on a thermometer if he stuck one under his tongue. She definitely wasn't a teenager anymore.

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