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But then he came out of the chambers, took my hand, and acted as if nothing happened. My mind traced back to him and Belén. I’ve never seen them hold hands or do anything affectionate.
Papá asked me why I keep smiling, said he’s never seen me smile before. Then I have to remember that I’m Belén.Señorita Fria1, they used to call her back at school. The one who showed no remorse ever in her life, not even the time our dog, Pablito, was run over by our neighbor. I cried for weeks. She merely picked up his lifeless body, buried him in the yard, and cleared the blood.
No tears.
No sadness.
Nothing.
Not even when Abuela died, the woman who practically raised us from our dad’s side. That’s the thing about Madrid. Most grandparents do the school run, and sometimes kids go home to have lunch like Belén and I did. We used to go to our abuela from Mamá’s side from Monday to Wednesday, and the rest of the week to our other abuela.
Yet Belén didn’t seem to care.
“No sois iguales. No es nada malo.2”
You’re not the same, that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing,Abuela would often say. She would say that our upbringing affected us in different ways.
Diego approaches me as I stand by our cake, the one I could just jump into. This dress is so tight, even with the corset on underneath it, I feel as if they’re both stuck to me like a second skin. The more I think about it, the more I’m suspicious that Belén planned the whole thing, because she just so happened to have a corset because she knew that I couldn’t fit in this dress without it being squeezed on.
I’ve been starving all day. I’ve been so worried that the dress and the corset will pop, but I can’t hold back anymore as I stuff some chocolate in my mouth. Not a little bit, but a lot.
“You have chocolate on your face!” he barks as he stands by me.
Where did he come from? I thought I was alone as I grab some from behind the cake stand. It has every kind of treat that a kid, and a girl like me with a sweet tooth, would want and more such as brownies, cupcakes, chocolate bars, marshmallows and it's as if they’re in some sort of order, but they’re not as I pop them in my mouth one after another. I should eat something healthy, but I’m too nervous to be worried about my weight right now.
We’re newlyweds, and so far, from calling me incapable of speaking my second language, now he’s accusing me of having chocolate on my face.
“Me no speak English!”
I spin around and walk away from him. I have my head held high, but inside, I’m dying. I just want to get away from here.
“¡Prima!” Cristina grabs my arm as I’m trying to get to the bathroom so I can lock myself in a cubicle.
“Tienes chocolate en tu boca y mejillas3. Did you dip your face in it? You can’t be walking around like that,” she says as she takes a napkin and wipes my face. Tears start to fall, and all I want to do is hug her and confess everything that happened this morning. She’s my cousin and my best friend.
“Belén! I didn’t think it was possible for you to cry. You’re acting like Leticia.”
I’m taken aback by her words. Doesn’t she know it’s me? Even Diego did without me saying a word. She starts to laugh as she continues wiping my face.
Do I really have that much chocolate on my face?
As she’s doing it, she’s humming and swinging her hips from side to side. She’s most likely not stopped drinking since she arrived. My eyes turn to meet Diego’s, who is obviously gloating with a smirk on his face about the chocolate on my face.
“Done. Now you just need to get some makeup on so you can be the beautiful bride again.”
She’s laughing at her own joke, which isn’t funny, confirming what I’d already suspected about how much she’s drunk.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Then I walk away, leaving Cristina to call Belén’s name over and over again until I turn and see that one of the groomsmen, Nacho, one of Diego’s cousins, grabs her hand and leads her to the dance floor.
I don’t know who I hate more, my sister for getting me in this mess or my boss-turned-husband.
“You need to get ready to throw the bouquet,” Diego says as he appears next to me.
Is he flying? Whenever I shift to get away from him, he just shows up.
“Me no speak English!” Then I cut my eyes at him, and he’s right. I need to throw the bouquet so I can find my phone and get out of here.
