My thoughts got derailed when my eyes passed Emma. She sat at our table, watching the dance floor. She’d put on her brave face, an expression I was too familiar with. Again, she sat at the sidelines of life, forced to see it pass her by. It pissed me off and made me feel guilty all over again. Samuel was dancing with Valentina, and Emma followed them with longing.
“Do you want to go to her?” Ines asked softly.
“When the song has ended.”
The moment the last chord played, I excused myself from the dancefloor. From the corner of my eye, I saw Samuel dancing with Anna. I felt the unreasonable urge to cross the dancefloor and punch his stupid face. It was his job to take care of my sister. She was his fiancée, for fuck’s sake, and in only two weeks she’d be his wife. Instead, he was enjoying himself while Emma suffered in silence behind her public mask. She was such a beautiful woman, but all anyone saw was the wheelchair. It made me unreasonably angry.
I stopped in front of Emma, trying to hide my anger from her. Usually it only embarrassed her.
“You and Sofia were such a stunning pair on the dancefloor,” she said.
“Why are you here all alone?” I said in a tone that barely cloaked my emotions. Mom was dancing with one of the Captains and seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Not that I didn’t want her to be happy; she’d suffered enough after Dad’s death, but she was supposed to keep an eye on Emma.
Emma frowned. “I like to watch, and I don’t want people to feel obligated to stay with me.”
I made a dismissive sound. Then I extended my hand. “Will you dance with me?”
Emma looked almost wounded when I asked. “Danilo—”
“You always loved to dance.”
“I did, when I had legs capable of dancing,” she hissed.
I bent and slid one arm under her legs while the other supported her back before I lifted her out of her wheelchair. Her eyes widened.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes scanning the crowd—everyone was watching. I didn’t care. If one of them said a single word, I’d make this a bloody wedding.
“It’s my wedding, and I want a dance with my sister,” I said firmly as I held her against my chest. Her arms finally came around my neck and she gave me a look that suggested I was delusional.
“You can’t carry me through a dance. I’m too heavy.”
I carried her toward the dancefloor and people made room for us since we required a bigger space to dance due to the way I was holding Emma. “Are you suggesting I’m not strong enough?”
Emma smiled gently. “You are the strongest man I know.”
I began to dance to the music with Emma in my arms, ignoring the curious looks, but scowling at those who dared to direct pity at my sister. She didn’t want their pity. Soon, Emma started laughing as we whirled around to the music. When the dance was over, and I carried her back to her wheelchair, she didn’t release me immediately but clung to my neck for a few seconds.
“Thank you so much. You’re the best brother I could ever wish for.”
I kissed her temple then straightened.
Sofia approached us. For the first time since the party, she looked at me like she’d looked at me in the past, as if I was a man beyond his sins. It hadn’t been my intention, but seeing it gave me hope that Sofia would forget what had happened. Of course, it was hypocritical of me to expect her to lay the past to rest so quickly when I still clung to it. She lightly touched my shoulder, a silent praise. “Your dance was beautiful,” she said to Emma’s obvious embarrassment. Then she sank down beside Emma with an audible sigh and slipped off her high heels.
“You need to dance with Mom now,” Emma reminded me. My life organizer. Mom was indeed heading my way, determined to follow etiquette. I, however, was reluctant to leave Emma.
“Is it okay if I sit beside you for a bit?” Sofia asked Emma, who bit her lip. “You should dance. You don’t have to spend time with me. It’s okay. I don’t mind watching.”
Sofia leaned closer to Emma and began massaging her feet. “To be honest, my feet need some rest. My high heels are killing me.”
Emma’s smile brightened.
I could have kissed Sofia. Her kindness was impressive and made my own selfish acts of the past all the more despicable.
After a few more dances, I managed to escape the dancefloor and went in search of Samuel. I found him in the courtyard of the hotel, typing on his phone. He tensed and looked up at my approach.
“We need to talk,” I muttered, my voice clipped.
One of his eyebrows darted up in that annoying way he had. His cellphone flashed with a message. I didn’t see the words but didn’t miss the kiss emojis. I got right in his face. “I hope that isn’t what I think it is.”
He narrowed his eyes at me and slid his phone into his pocket. “How about you mind your own fucking business, Danilo?”
“You’re marrying my sister in two weeks. I won’t let you disrespect her by messing with other women, understood?”
He sneered. “I don’t give a fuck what you want. I’m not married to your sister yet, so what I do in the next two weeks is my fucking business. And if I remember correctly, you fucked quite a few blondes in a very media-effective way over the
