Cecilia steals my breath the next day when I arrive at her place to pick her up for my Mother’s wedding.
She greets me at her door in a pale blue dress that falls to the ground in soft gauzy waves. The dress is sleeveless, the neckline scalloped in a way that accentuates the column of her neck.
Her hair is styled in loose waves around her face and she’s wearing more makeup than usual. A mask to cover the lingering discoloration on her skin, but she’s just as beautiful as ever.
“You look stunning,” I tell her and offer her my arm.
She accepts my arm and follows me outside. “Thanks.”
I lead her to my bike only to hesitate as I take in her dress once again.
“I didn’t really think?—”
“I wore shorts underneath,” she says with a grin.
Perfect.
Helping her adjust her helmet, I guide her onto my bike and we set off for the wedding.
We’re a few minutes late when we arrive, so I slip in the back, taking a seat in one of the last pews of the church. Cecilia slides in beside me, her hand immediately finding mine. “You doing okay?” She squeezes, a subtle sign of reassurance.
“I’m good,” I tell her and squeeze her hand back, only to release it to rub my hands over my slacks.
I’m fucking nervous. I still can’t seem to get over the fact that I was invited, but maybe Cecilia’s right. Maybe this is Mom’s way of extending an olive branch after everything that's happened since Carlos’s death.
Mom’s already made her way down the aisle and stands front and center with her soon-to-be husband before the priest. Her dress is white, with long lace sleeves and a full skirt. It’s both simple and elegant.
She smiles at the man standing before her as he holds her hands and smiles back.
She looks ... happy.
I haven’t seen her smile like that in years. There are people on either side of them—bridesmaids and groomsmen. No one that I recognize. The two boys beside the groom are young, close to my age. They beam at the happy couple. One even swipes a tear from his eye but maintains the smile plastered across his face.
The priest asks for the rings, and then my mother speaks her vows. I hear the love in her words, the adoration. It’s hard to listen to, knowing how long it’s been since I was on the receivingend of her affections, but there’s a part of me, a really small fucking part, that’s happy for her.
Losing Carlos broke both of my parents. His death tore our entire family apart. And while I doubt I will ever forgive her for the way that she handled things, I still want her to be happy.
She’s my mom.
The ceremony ends, and the priest pronounces them husband and wife. They kiss, and the crowd claps and cheers, everyone clamoring back to their feet. The happy couple makes their way back down the aisle, and each of them smiles and waves to their family and friends.
When Mom reaches the end, her eyes find mine.
Shock widens them, and her smile dims, but only for a second before she turns her gaze away from me.
What the hell was that?
We follow everyone outside to the reception. Tables have been arranged across the lawn with elaborate centerpieces on display.
Cecilia loops her hand through my arm, and I lead her across the lawn toward the back. We take our seats, but I can’t shake the unease that’s settled into my gut. Cecilia senses it too, her eyes searching mine for a hint of what’s bothering me.
“Still doing okay?” she asks again.
“She wasn’t happy to see me,” I say, voicing my fears out loud.
Cecilia places a hand on my shoulder. “That’s not true,” she tells me. “She looked surprised, that’s all. She probably didn’t expect you to show up with how things are between the two of you. Relax.”
I run a hand through my hair, my fingers trembling ever so slightly. “I don’t belong here,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “This is a bad idea.”
