Marcello

I marry her in the on the estate in the vineyards.

As she binds herself to me for eternity, the rows of plants, my family’s legacy, stretch out to honor us. Elsa is barefoot, wearing the Celestina cream gown I chose for her. A simple bouquet of white roses and lilies restin her hands, while a delicate crown made from lilies of the valley and grape leaves sit atop her head, black hair long and loose down her back.

She has never looked more beautiful.

We repeat our vows in front of the small group gathered to witness the ceremony. My small family and hers are here, along with...