The next day, Dante said he had an emergency and told me to get dressed without him. I stood in front of the mirror wearing that cheapest wedding dress for three hours.

The photographer pretended to adjust his equipment. The shop staff whispered among themselves.

My phone buzzed. Isabella Caruso, a friend who worked at City Hall, sent me a message.

"Is this your man? He's here getting a marriage license right now. The woman next to him is wearing a wedding dress that costs at least 800 thousand dollars."

The photo was not very clear, but I recognized that dress immediately. It hung in the center display window of this very shop, pure white Duchesse satin with hand-sewn Swarovski crystals and a ten-foot train.

It was the most expensive gown in the entire store.

I went into the dressing room and took off the cheap, wrinkled wedding dress I was wearing. It took three tries to undo the buttons.

"I'm sorry. My husband can't make it today."

The photographer sighed but said nothing.

At City Hall, Dante wore a navy suit and smiled at the camera with his arm around Liliana.

Liliana wore that 800-thousand-dollar wedding gown and the emerald earrings Carmela had given her.

I stood in the doorway. My legs felt weak.

"You canceled my wedding to come here and register your marriage with her?"

Liliana hid behind Dante and grabbed the edge of his jacket.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to wear a wedding dress once. The marriage license is for the baby."

Dante held her hand and looked at me.

"Stop making a scene. The child needs legal status. Valenti blood can't be illegitimate. It's just paperwork. Once this is done, we'll find another day to register our marriage."

While he spoke, my gaze fell on Liliana's right hand.

She wore a ring on her middle finger. Silver band, set with a small sapphire. The inside of the band was engraved with "Per sempre, Mamma."

It was Mamma's wedding ring. The one she wore when she married Papa in a small church in Catano.

After Mamma died, she passed it to me. When the wedding was canceled, the ring was still with Dante. I had not gotten it back yet.

He had given my mother's keepsake to another woman.

I walked past Dante and grabbed Liliana's hand.

"That ring was my mother's. Take it off."

"But Dante gave it to me..."

We struggled. Her wedding dress train was too long. Tears blurred my vision and both of us missed the step. We tumbled down the stairs screaming, and Liliana crashed on top of me.

"I saw Serena about to fall. I tried to help her. How was I supposed to know she'd pull me down with her?"

Liliana wore a thick wedding gown. She only twisted her ankle, but my forehead split open.

Blood ran into my eyes. My palms and knees were covered in bruises.

Dante walked over and crouched down. His hand closed around my throat. It was not a threat. He was actually choking me.

"If anything happens to Liliana, you'll pay double."

There was no concern in his eyes and no hesitation.

"I already have a son. The one in your belly doesn't matter. If you lost it in the fall, so be it."

He let go of me, scooped Liliana into his arms, and walked toward the hospital. I sat on the City Hall steps as blood dripped down the bridge of my nose.

People passed by. They glanced at me, looked away, and kept walking. No one stopped.

In the emergency room, they stitched me up with four sutures and prescribed painkillers.

By the time Dante came home, I was already in a cab headed to the airport.

Before boarding, I sent one message. "We're done. Don't look for me."

He rushed into the bedroom. The closet was empty. The vanity was empty. The photo of my parents on the nightstand was gone too.

All that remained on the pillow was a single sheet of paper, a surgical record for an abortion dated three days earlier.

Dante held that paper and all the color drained from his face.