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Papá squeezes my hand as I take his elbow, ready to walk down the aisle.
“Hermosa,” he chokes, and I can see as much as he wants to control his emotions, a tear streaks down his eye.
This isn’t the same as the wedding I had with Diego in NY. It’s ironic to think I’ve been here before with him but as me, not Belén. This time we’re getting married out of love, not out of an arrangement, and there’s so much emotion and joy in our hearts because of that.
As I walk down the aisle, the sunbeams filtering through the stained glass create a radiant pathway, illuminating the intricate lace of my dress.
“Leticia,” someone gasps, and then my little cousin drops the rose petals in front of us. Everyone points to her, and then admire my dress that one of my tía’s made. Well, not just one, a few of them got together and restored mi abuela’s old wedding dress. They put diamonds and pearls to make it more modern. This is the old that I acquired and it makes me feel like a princess and smile, because I feel as if she’s still with me.
The altar, bathed in a soft, golden glow, is adorned with roses and lilies.
But my focus is only on the man that is waiting for me at the altar.
Diego.
His groomsmen are lined up, but this time his brother, Lucas, isn’t by his side as the best man. I’m shocked, because no one said even at the rehearsal we did a couple of days ago that he would have a new best man.
I blink, thinking my eyes are deceiving me, but as I draw closer it’s clear that they’re not and George is his best man.
I can’t help but ask as Papá hands me over to Diego.
Diego’s wearing a dark blue suit, cream waistcoat, and a tie with a blend of the two colors against a white shirt.
“George?”
He nods. “Yes.”
He smiles at me, and then Mamá waves, holding Lola behind me. I turn to face them, and can’t believe that our little girl is now sitting up and so grown in such a short space of time.
The groomsmen are a mix of Lucas and Diego’s cousins and mine. We couldn’t decide on numbers so we tossed a coin and put no restriction on who should be our groomsmen and bridesmaids, but more importantly who had made an impact on our lives.
The intricate details of the wooden carvings come to life in the natural light, depicting scenes of love and devotion. Pillars rise majestically on either side, their surfaces worn smooth by the passage of time, bearing witness to generations of vows exchanged beneath their silent gaze.
He reveals my face as the ceremony comes to an end by lifting my veil.
“¡Hermosa!” he says.
I want to tell him that he doesn’t look bad himself, but this time he’s more traditional than he was when we first got married in New York.
“This time I’m going to kiss the real bride, not the fake one. Or do I need to double-check?”
“Kiss me already.”
“You are demanding.”
There’s nothing new about that, I know Cristina is right, both of us love to play these games with each other. How boring would life be if we got on all the time?
I pull him down and press his lips against mine. Then he sweeps me in his arms and makes me feel protected as if he would never let anything happen to me. I know he wouldn’t but there’s nothing better than a man that would sacrifice everything for you. Even get blood on his hands, and gives up the life he once knew.
I know the love we have is for keeps, and I intend to fill all of the bedrooms in our house with little Diegos and Leticias as much as I can, because as Diego says, I’m his and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
1 Very pretty.
2 Beautiful.
3 Good luck
4 Very pretty.
