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My phone.
My memory traces back to when I was in the room with Belén. She said that maybe it was better if she held on to my phone.
“Your sister couldn’t even bother to hang around. Typical!” Tía Ana snaps at me as I go in search of my bouquet.
“Where did she go, Tía?”
Tía Ana is Mamá’s eldest sister and criticizes everyone, but we tolerate her because she’s family. She has no kids. And Papá said that’s a good thing. The world doesn’t need any more Tía Anas in the world. I find it a little cruel to think about her that way, though, because I know why she’s that way. She had her heart broken and vowed to never love again.
She’s lonely. I know the feeling too well. I’ve been there once with Diego and once with my ex, Alberto. I smile and meet her hazel eyes, but they give me a scold in return.
Why do I even bother?
“I think she’s jealous. She always has been of you.”
“No, I …”
I nearly give the charade away. I’ve never been jealous of Belén. What’s there to be jealous of?
“Why do you …”
Before I can say another word, Prima Cristina and her brother start dragging me onto the dance floor, wheresomeone’s put a chair in the center. This wedding isn’t going the way I expected. Now, my husband is on his knees as I’m being put into the chair to reveal my garter so he can take it off.
I don’t feel comfortable with him doing this.
But he has that smirk again. His lips curl as if he’s enjoying it as everyone starts to chant.
“My bride is going to enjoy this!” He winks, and then the music changes from merengue to “Pony” by Ginuwine. I feel as if my ears are deceiving me, and my eyes nearly pop out of my head as the man I call Diablo, my new husband, slowly sways his hips from left to right, making me feel all flustered. My insides turn upside down as he moves so slowly. Behind him, Tía Maria is fanning herself. I don’t even bother as my mouth opens as if I’m about to catch some flies.
He then takes off his blazer and waistcoat. His office is like a glass tower. Whenever Diego summons me in it with a bark, like he does every so often, his blazer is always on. I even joked with Belén one time that he never lets loose. He wears a suit all the time, and now he’s dancing as if he’s auditioning forMagic Mike, his eyes are fixed on mine.
“Get it off!” Prima Cristina yells. The one who hates him just as much as I do is encouraging him to get naked.
He ignores everyone as if I’m onstage and he is my private dancer. I don’t say a word as he takes his tie, grabs both my hands, and ties me to the chair. Then he’s in front of me. I think he’s going to do what every normal groom does when it’s time to get the garter. He’ll just put his head in between my legs, and we’ll be done with the embarrassment off it all.
Instead, he whispers, “¿Hablas ingles?4”
I shake my head, then before I know it, in a quick flick, he lifts up my dress to expose every part from the waist downwards.
“Ah!” I scream for my life as he takes off my garter, for everyone to see what he’s doing.
Everyone is laughing and applauding once he has the garter in his teeth.
Then the men gather in a circle for him to throw the garter. Everyone jumps for joy as his brother Lucas wins the trophy. He winks at Cristina, who smiles reluctantly before running away.
Cristina feels the same way about Lucas as she does about Diego. Everyone’s applauding Diego for his victory, but there’s just one problem. I’m still tied to the chair.
“Diego, untie me,” I squirm and repeat myself until I have his attention. He spins around slowly on his heels.
Then he says, “¡No hablo ingles5!”
Everyone laughs, but I’m not laughing as my new husband walks away.
Ifind my husband sitting outside and enjoying the view when I’m finally free.
“Why did you do that? Why did you humiliate me like that?”
He says nothing, as I expected. It’s as if he enjoys making me feel like a fool, even if we are married.
