Page 211 of Gabriel
“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 receiving end 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 makestheir 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.”
She frowns, concern knitting her brows. “What do you mean?”
I gesture vaguely to the boisterous celebration around us. “All of this ... it’s not me. I don’t know these people, and I’m not sure I want to.” My mother’s marrying into a whole new family, connected to people I’ve never even met. What sort of parent does that?
Cecilia’s lips part like she wants to say something, but instead, rests a reassuring hand on my arm, her touch a lifeline in this sea of strangers.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” she tells me. “It’s normal. But try and enjoy the reception. Everything is so beautiful.” There’s a wistful note in her voice. I thought being here—spending time with Cecilia today—would be a good thing. Hell, I wanted this. Anything to put her by my side, but I wasn’t at all prepared for the nauseous feelings rolling around in my gut.
“We should go.” I push to my feet.
Cecilia rises with me but quickly steps in my way. Her hands come up to capture my face. “We can leave if you want. It’s okay.” Good. Because that’s exactly what I plan to do. This was a terrible idea. “But you should at least tell your mother congratulations and say goodbye. I think she’d be hurt if you left without saying anything.”
Fuck. She’s right. I swallow hard before taking a deep breath. “Okay.” I can do this. “We’ll congratulate the happy couple and then go.”
Cecilia smiles, her eyes filled with compassion. “Alright. Let’s go find her.”
As we make our way through the crowd, my discomfort gnaws at me like a relentless itch. People eye me curiously, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not welcome here.
When we reach my mother, she’s talking to a small circle of guests. The groom and one of his groomsmen stand close beside her.
“Hi,” I offer as we approach. I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek. “Congratulations, Mom.” I turn and offer her new husband my hand. He shakes it. “I’m Gabriel. Her son. It’s nice to meet you.” He looks at me with a mixture of shock and confusion before dropping my hand.
