The eve of the wedding dawned golden, as if the sun knew that the next day would be special and wanted to warm the earth for the celebration. I spent the entire morning in a state of good anxiety, the kind that makes you smile for no reason and forget what you were about to do mid-step.
Marco, on the other hand, was strangely calm. Which, coming from him, was worrying.
"You're very quiet," I commented at breakfast, watching him fill his coffee cup for the third time. "What are you plotting?"
"Nothing." His smile was too innocent. "Just enjoying the view."
"The view is me in pajamas, disheveled, and looking like a hippopotamus."
"Exactly."
I threw a dish towel at him.
After breakfast, he took my hand.
"Come with me. I want to show you something."
"What?"
"Surprise."
I sighed, but
