Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Sophia's POV
My face burned as I pushed away from Vito, the memory of his hands on my skin still sending electricity through every nerve ending. Even blind, even confined to that wheelchair, the man had a magnetism that left me completely undone. The way he'd touched me, the way his voice had dropped to that commanding whisper—it was impossible to think clearly when he was so close.
"The wedding isn't over yet," I managed, my voice slightly breathless. "I can't just leave."
I practically fled toward the ballroom, my heels clicking against the marble floor as I tried to put distance between us and regain my composure. At the entrance, I paused and turned back, surprising myself with my own boldness.
"Would you like to come in with me?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "Maybe we could share a special dance."
Something shifted in his expression—a softness I rarely saw. "I'd like that."
He was maneuvering his wheelchair toward me when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. The sound seemed to shatter whatever moment we'd been sharing.
"Go ahead and take it," I said, though part of me wanted to knock that phone out of his hands. "I'll go in first."
The ballroom hummed with conversation and laughter, couples swaying on the dance floor to the string quartet's romantic melodies. The reception was in full swing, and for a moment, I let myself imagine this was a normal wedding, that I was a normal bride celebrating with her husband.
"Sophia!"
I turned to find David approaching, his familiar smile warming something inside my chest. Dr. David Rosenberg looked handsome in his formal attire, though there was concern etched in the lines around his eyes.
"You look beautiful," he said, taking my hands in his. "How are you holding up? After yesterday, I mean."
Yesterday. The memory of breaking down in his car, of feeling so lost and confused about my feelings for Vito, made heat creep up my neck. David had been nothing but supportive, holding me while I cried about my complicated marriage.
"I'm fine," I said, though we both knew it was partially a lie. "Thank you for being there for me."
"Always." His thumb brushed over my knuckles. "Speaking of which, I have something I wanted to discuss with you. The hospital is looking for additional staff—research assistants for our new pediatric cardiology program. It's fascinating work, and I immediately thought of you."
My heart leaped. Medical research. Real work that mattered, using the knowledge I'd spent years acquiring. It was exactly the kind of opportunity I'd dreamed about.
"The position would involve analyzing patient data, assisting with clinical trials, maybe even co-authoring research papers," David continued, his enthusiasm infectious. "Your background would be perfect for it."
But even as excitement bubbled up inside me, reality crashed down like cold water. I was Isabella Cohen Romano now—at least, that's who everyone believed me to be. Isabella, who'd studied art history, who knew nothing about medical research or cardiac procedures.
"David, that sounds incredible, but..." I trailed off, my mind racing. How could I explain that accepting his offer would expose my entire deception? That Isabella Romano was supposed to be someone who painted watercolors, not someone who understood ventricular septal defects and cardiac catheterization procedures.
"But what?" he pressed gently.
I was trapped between wanting to accept desperately and knowing it was impossible. If I took the position, my medical knowledge would raise questions about Isabella's background. Someone might start digging into my past, and the whole house of cards would come tumbling down.
"I need to think about it," I said finally, hating how weak that sounded.
David's expression grew more concerned. "Is this about Vito? Because if he's trying to control your career choices—"
"No, it's not that." Though wasn't it, in a way? Everything about my current situation stemmed from the lies that had brought me into Vito's world. "It's complicated."
"Most worthwhile things are." David squeezed my hands. "Just promise me you'll consider it. You're too brilliant to waste your talents planning charity galas and hosting dinner parties."
Before I could respond, I noticed movement near the ballroom entrance. Vito was finally arriving, his wheelchair cutting through the crowd with Tony walking beside him. He'd clearly finished his phone call, but something about his posture seemed tense.
Our eyes met across the room, and even from this distance, I could feel the intensity of his gaze. The memory of our encounter outside rushed back—his hands on my skin, the way he'd made me forget everything except the heat building between us.
"Sophia?" David's voice brought me back to the present. "You seem distracted."
"Sorry, I—" I started, but stopped as I noticed someone else entering the ballroom.
Maria Castellano appeared in the doorway like a vision from a fairy tale. She was stunning in a flowing pale blue gown that made her look ethereal, almost otherworldly. Her golden hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, and despite everything she'd been through, she moved with a grace that commanded attention.
The ballroom seemed to quiet as people noticed her arrival. Conversations paused, heads turned, and I could practically feel the curiosity radiating from the wedding guests. Who was this beautiful woman? What was her connection to the Romano family?
I watched as Vito's attention immediately shifted to Maria, his expression transforming from the heated intensity he'd directed at me to something softer, more protective. She approached his wheelchair with a small, tentative smile, and when she leaned down to whisper something in his ear, I felt a familiar stab of jealousy pierce through my chest.
"Who is that?" David asked, following my gaze.
"Maria Castellano," I said quietly. "She and Vito have... history."
That was certainly one way to put it. Childhood trauma, a life-saving rescue, twenty years of promises and guilt—it was the kind of epic love story that made my own connection to Vito seem shallow by comparison.
"She's beautiful," David observed, and I couldn't argue with that assessment.
As I watched Maria and Vito together, I realized that some part of me had been hoping she would stay hidden away, that whatever medical crisis had kept her from the ceremony would continue to keep her out of sight. Seeing her here, radiant and graceful, was a stark reminder of everything I was competing against.
"Want to dance?" David offered.
I was about to say yes when the bandleader stepped forward.
"Ladies and gentlemen, time for some special dances. Let's invite all our couples to join us."
This wasn't my wedding. This was my sister's. But seeing the couples take the floor made my chest ache. I should have been dancing at my own wedding right now, if everything hadn't fallen apart.
David offered his hand. "Shall we?"
I nodded, letting him lead me onto the dance floor. At least dancing would give me something to focus on besides the mess of my life.
But as we moved through a simple waltz, I couldn't stop watching Vito and Maria at their table. They looked so comfortable together. So right.
"You're doing it again," David said gently.
"What?"
"Watching them instead of dancing with me."
I forced myself to look at David's kind face. He deserved better than this.
"Sorry. Tell me more about the research job."
David talked about patient outcomes and new procedures with the passion that had first made me want to be a doctor. It should have been enough to distract me from everything else.
But then I saw Vito moving toward the dance floor.
Maria was with him, one hand on the back of his wheelchair as they found a spot among the other couples. Even seated, he guided her through the steps with an elegance that took my breath away. She moved around him like they'd done this a thousand times before.
They looked perfect together.
"You're watching them again." David said quietly.
"I know." My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "I can't help it."
"Do you want to talk about what's really going on?"
I couldn't tell him the truth. That I was falling for a man who would always choose someone else. That I was trapped in my sister's identity, watching her live my life while I pretended to be happy about it.
"It's complicated," I said again.
On the dance floor, Vito spun Maria gently, and she laughed. The sound carried across the room, light and musical. Even from here, I could see the way he looked at her. Like she was precious. Like she mattered.
The song ended and people applauded. Vito lifted Maria's hand to his lips and kissed it softly. The gesture was so tender it made my chest hurt.
Then his eyes found mine across the room.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Did he see Isabella, the art student who was supposed to be grateful for his attention? Or did he somehow see Sophia, the woman who was falling for him despite knowing she'd never really have him?