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“Is that important?”
“Yes.”
She’s an amazing woman, but nosy runs in all Latina mothers and it’s best not to fight. The trick is always make them think they’ve won.
We were all standing in front of the house waiting for the newlyweds to drive off. Everyone there had a balloon in their hand with a wish for the couple, and as they descended, they were released one by one.
The idea had been mine. Something I saw in a wedding magazine and loved, and with how things are with me and Ivan—the lack of any commitment—I’d given Luna the suggestion. Something she loved and as they made their way through the group of family members and loved ones, she broke from the group and walked toward me and Nat.
Our balloon was a little different. The all-white plastic was hiding a naughty gift for the trip.
“I have a feeling this isn’t meant for the public to see?” We shook our heads in unison, giggling a bit. “The extra streamers, glitter, and the three giant X’s also give away that vibe.”
“We thought so, too.” Nat hands it to her, while Luna shakes her head. Even the man standing behind her snorts, the amusement and hunger for his woman clear to see. “More fun for us this way.”
Luna shifts her gaze to me. “And you feel this way too?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m glad you do. Babe?” The bride holds a hand behind her, being blocked by her groom. There’s a bit of rustling, whispered words from him that I can’t hear, but beside me, Natasha groans.
“She wouldn’t.”
“Oh, cousin. I did.” A few seconds later, I’m blushing and stunned into silence as I’m handed half of her bridal bouquet while Nat gets the other. Literally, she split it in half. No tossing, the woman just decided to hand it over to us. I’m going to kill her. “This is for my two favorite people—”
“What did you say?” Thiago growls, it’s playful yet still full of jealousy. “Repeat that.”
“Favorite after you, babe. Calm down.”
And while they bicker a bit, Natasha taunting him with favoritism, my eyes search out his. Yet when I find him, I don’t see the warmth in them from when we danced or the sweet smirk I’d been gifted after his mouth licked my release from them.
No. Nada once again.
Blank and uninterested and I shift away, smiling at some random person in the crowd. I’m sure I know her. Hell, I’ve been around for years, and yet, making out faces is past my abilities.
Instead, the flowers in my hands feel like thousands of pinpricks and I just keep repeating the words: trust me.
I’m brought back to the present by a throat clearing. “Well, kid. Who caught them?”
“No one caught them per se.”
“Who?”
“Luna split it in half and gave the pieces to me and Nat.”
“Oh, dear.” That’s it. That’s all I get after answering, but the woman is smiling. Way too bright for this time of day. “That’s one way to push her girls into finding someone to settle down with.”
“And is that your way into peppering in that you want grandkids?”
Mom shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Not happening for a long time, woman. I’d need a man first, and at the moment, I’m very much single.” Those words feel wrong, yet the truth is the truth. The old saying No puedes tapar el sol con un dedo is appropriate. Covering the sun with one finger is impossible and burying your head in the sand makes it worse.
I was honest when I told him I can’t keep doing this. Maybe we’re just not meant to be, and I’ve been kidding myself for far too long.
“You need a man?”
“Yes. Unless you want me to adopt or go buy some—”
