Chapter Two Hundred And Six
Malachi's POV
Planning a wedding while caring for a newborn was insane.
"We should have waited," I told Alicia one morning. Lia was crying. I hadn't slept. And we had a meeting with the wedding planner in two hours.
"No. This is perfect. Chaotic, but perfect."
"How is this perfect?"
"Because Lia will be there. She'll be part of it. Our whole family will be there. It's exactly what I want."
She was right. As always.
The wedding was scheduled for mid-November. Six weeks away. Small ceremony in the villa's garden. Just family.
Both families. Morettis and Blackwoods. Together.
It should have felt impossible. But somehow it worked.
Signora Moretti took over most of the planning. Flowers. Food. Music. She had opinions about everything.
"Italian weddings are sacred," she explained. "Everything must be perfect."
"It's not really an Italian wedding," I pointed out. "Alicia's American. I'm American."
