Selfie With The Mafia

Bonus Chapter #1

"Aaron? Are you awake?"

A few seconds later, I heard his footsteps getting closer to the door I had knocked on.

His hoarse reply came in, "Why aren't you in bed, tigrotto?"

The quiet twist of the doorknob to Aaron's door was a contrast to the furious tapping of my foot. Aaron noticed it.

"You're nervous," he said, the door to his room remained shut, "What did you do?"

"I need your help with something. . ." I trailed off, too embarrassed of the situation I had put myself in.

"Sì, amore mio."

I smiled. Aaron agreeing to help me before I could tell him anything warmed my heart like it had done every single time.

"Promise you won't look. You know it's bad luck."

"You are not one to believe in superstitions, tigrotto."

"Aaron, please."

"I promise I won't look."

I bit on my quivering lip, my hormones getting the best of me. I was feeling overwhelmed and stressing over the most minor insignificance.

"Ava, what is it?"

"I can't reach the buttons."

There was a pause as he let that sink in and then he asked knowingly, "tigrotto, you told me you weren't going to-"

"Aaron, I feel really sick. Let's set the scolding aside for later, okay?"

He said in a pained voice, "It's never my intention to scold you, you know that, right?"

"Mmhm, I have learned to live with that. I really don't mind, Aaron."

I could hear the smile in his voice, "I want to see you, tigrotto. I don't give a shıt about this whole tradition."

"Aaron, you're supposed to be the religious one in this relationship, not me." I chastised, opening the door slightly to find the lights on.

"When it comes to you, I forget everything that's holy," he said, a devilish hint in his gravelly tone.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the way a chill ran down my spine. Aaron had always had a way with his words. He could barely intend to make anything he says to be indecent or sexual and I would start panting as if answering a mating call.

It's that fūcking easy.

"Can you turn off the lights?"

Aaron grumbled something under his breath and I waited until his room went dark. Carefully, I walked in, shame clouding on the ridiculous quandary, a recipe of my own desperate insecurity which I had developed since I begun to gain weight from the pregnancy. We decided to keep the wedding early before I started to show.

I had bought my wedding dress two weeks ago and I knew somehow I had put on weight, knew I was not to going to fit in my dress anymore. I must have told Aaron multiple times about this newly conjured fear and he had said he loved how I looked while pregnant. His constant consolation and reassurance couldn't win against the ugly, nagging consciousness inside me.

I had only wanted to be sure that I could still fit in. I decided to foolishly wear my wedding and I was right. It was too tight. I had put on weight. Now, I was fūcking stuck in my wedding dress and I could cry rivers because my hormones were fūcked up.

And, there were only fourteen more hours left for the ceremony.

Aaron's hands reached out for me in the dark, running them over my back, like he could sense my tension skyrocketing, a soothing gesture meant to calm me. I sighed as relief washed over me, leaning into him behind me as his arms enclosed around my waist.