Lunch had ended as awkwardly as it began, with Ettore dragging his brother out by the collar of his shirt, having tense words with the younger man then returning on his own, announcing, “Daniele just remembered he has something important to do.”

That prompted Tino, Sandro and Emilia to make their leave, and then it was just immediate family left.

When Giada disappeared into the next room and returned with the white box, she glanced at her brother and started with, “I know you said you didn’t want a gift so I respected your wishes and got one for the bride instead.”

Oddly touched by the gesture, a small smile teased the corner of my lip as I began to undo the silver ribbon around it. I lifted the lid and parted the protective paper, but my smile fell then faded to nothing when I saw what it was.

A wedding album.

“How lovely,” I uttered, pulling it out of its box and holding it on my lap. “Thank you, Giada. I love it.”

But my neck throbbed as I exchanged a solemn look with my husband. Sadness draped itself over my shoulders when I made the realization that we had no photos of the day. Not even a single keepsake, apart from the scar that would form just under Ettore’s collar bone.

My lungs burned and, suddenly, I found it hard to breathe. I must have paled considerably because she put a hand to my forearm and let out a concerned, “Are you alright?”

“Gia,” Ettore took care with his sisters’ emotions as he explained carefully, “We don’t have any pictures to put in there.”

“Oh,” she muttered woefully a moment before a thought dawned on her. “I have some. I took a few during the ceremony. Here.” Giada pulled out her cell and began scrolling. When she found what she was after, she handed it to me. “See?”

My heart stuttered at the photograph in front of me.

It was taken from the center of the aisle in the church a moment after my veil had been lifted and we turned to face each other for the first time. I looked up at Ettore like he was the only man to exist, and he peered down at me as though he would never again have eyes for anybody else.

It was both beautiful and gut-wrenching.

My heart rate increased and then, my hands were shaking.

This could have been the beginning we deserved. This could have been the start of a wonderful life. An adoring wife to a devoted husband.

My breathing turned ragged.

It was beautiful, and I ruined it.

Moments after this photo was taken, disaster struck and, in my head, I still heard the echoing gunshot.