Chapter 91 - Finally Married
The wedding was set for ten in the morning. According to the information provided by Inés, my stylist would be arriving at six in the evening to do my hands and feet, and add extensions to make my hair reach the start of my backside. I was very nervous. My family was waiting for us. My brother hugged me when he saw me arrive, and my father did the same and noticed the bruise.
"What happened to your head?" I bit my lip.
"I fell." My father raised one of his eyebrows.
"She was kidnapped."
I looked at Roland. This was not the time to widen the existing gap between them. My brother looked at Roland, not with anger, but expecting an explanation.
"She was kidnapped for an hour and a half. I found her."
"And you killed the kidnappers?" my father asked.
"I did that, sir."
Simón intervened. My father's face was red with anger, and Santiago hugged Roland, showing different attitudes.
"Thanks, old man." I looked at Luz Marina. We were waiting for my father to explode.
"That's the life you'll lead. Congratulations!"
"Don Fausto..." Roland began to speak, but my father raised his hand.
"I don't agree with this, but I believe marriage is for life. I only have one daughter, and I won't forgive myself for breaking the promise I made to her mother." He looked at Roland. "That's why I'm here. I'll leave as soon as I can tomorrow." He looked at me, and I saw pain in his eyes. "I don't understand what you see in him, what you expect from a man like him, but everyone makes their own mistakes."
"Can I see the dress?"
Luz Marina intervened, took me by the arm, and Santiago took my fiancé away. My father was left alone for a second, then he locked himself in the room assigned to him.
"It was hard enough getting Roland to stop blaming himself for what happened, and now my father rubs it in!"
"Give him time."
"Thanks for coming." I hugged her tightly. "We need to get ready. Tomorrow will be a crazy day."
"They propose to me first, and you get married before me."
"That's life." We laughed.
My fiancé spent the rest of the night with my brother while the stylists worked on us. I was already on edge. Roland had come in a couple of times with a beer in hand, and Santiago had to drag him out.
"I don't know what they do, they always change," he said.
I threw a towel at my brother's big head while his girlfriend rolled her eyes.
"What do you think?"
He took a long swig of beer. God, he does it on purpose to provoke me. He looked so sexy.
"She's beautiful right now. I don't know what her stylist can do to make her more gorgeous. I can't wait for tomorrow."
"Okay," said the stylist. "You need to leave, and tomorrow you'll see the results. It's a surprise." Roland's face made the hairdresser uncomfortable, so I intervened.
"Sorry, love, it's a surprise. You'll see me at the altar."
"We've slept together since we got back."
"Until tomorrow, darling." I laughed at his expression.
"But..."
"Santiago, give him his bachelor party."
"What?"
"Your friends and my brother will kidnap you for a few hours."
He raised an eyebrow as Simón, Cebolla, and four men who were always with them and part of the Capo's select group of bodyguards entered the room. Raúl came in last, looking very serious.
"Will there be women?" I looked at my brother while Inés laughed at the conversation.
"Don't you dare, or I'll cut it off." I pointed at Roland, and everyone burst into laughter at my response.
"Beautiful, if you do that, you won't have a toy to play with for the rest of your life."
"Get out of here, and you, come here." Roland approached, and I kissed him. "See you tomorrow at the altar."
"Can one back out at this point?" I opened my mouth, and he closed it with a kiss. "Only death, Verónica, only death will separate me from you, and even then, be sure I'll stay with you." My heart pounded.
"Simón..."
"I'll be with him, miss."
"Thank you."
Roland's eyes shone. He whispered, "I love you." Raúl stayed by my side. They didn't go anywhere yesterday, and I know Simón suggested it because of the tension. He didn't tell me, but in the cabin, he kept giving instructions. They stayed at the country house, drinking and, I imagine, joking. Old Fausto won't take long to come get me.
I left the room tidy after the stylists, Raúl, Inés, and Luz Marina left. Here, I'll make love with my husband. I won't wait for any wedding night as he suggested... We'll do it during the wedding celebration. It was my gift. I looked in the mirror. Not to brag, but I looked beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world. Three knocks interrupted my self-praise. My father stood there, looking at me, and his eyes welled up.
"You look beautiful, daughter." He wiped away his tears. "I don't agree with the man you chose, but I believe in what your mother thought of you. I'll hold on to that. You're my daughter, and I love you."
"Thank you," I said, stretching my hands.
"It's no time to cry, your drug lord groom is waiting for you at the altar."
"Dad!"
Nerves took over me. My sister-in-law entered the room and handed me the bouquet, a mix of various colored flowers matching the crown I wore in my incredible hair from which the veil flowed. I knew it was out of fashion, but I wanted to make it clear I was coming to the altar pure.
"They're already waiting for you. The decoration, Vero, is amazing."
That was the idea. He once told me it was the color of his life, and he never strayed from his neutral way of being, one tone, maybe two. And like every wedding, the dominant color was white, and I left it that way, his favorite color, while my touch was the colors, like an oil palette.
"It's time."
I couldn't describe the sensation I had; it was a mix of so many feelings encapsulated in an instant: the joy of marrying the man I loved, the fear of making such a monumental decision, the desire to share my life with someone, and the nerves hoping for a good wedding.
With doubt and hope that he would continue to treat me as he had and not disappoint me, the fear of who we would become in the future and our roles as parents. That was marriage; a whirlwind of daily emotions and states. It was a miracle, because blending two different souls in habits, thoughts, feelings, and having them live together in the same house, in the same bed, was proof that miracles do exist and happen daily.
When I reached the start of the aisle leading to the altar, it was an outdoor setup. Roland waited for me in white, my legs turned wobbly, and I held onto my father's arm. Juan, his sister's fox, and their parents sat in the last row beside us. My ex looked at me with a lovestruck expression, while his sister glared daggers at me.
"What an idiot, veils are out of fashion," she whispered under her breath. Roland watched me from the altar. There were many people, but I glanced to the side and noticed the expression his brother gave her, he was glaring. I wanted to yank her arm, but no... I was the one marrying the man she wanted. I pretended not to hear her.
"Look, Beatriz," Juan muttered through gritted teeth, and when he was angry, he was a different person.
"I was her first boyfriend for nearly three years and never touched her. Suffer, little sister, she is a woman worthy of being taken to the altar. Unlike you... I'm sorry."
"Idiot!"
I don't know if he saw me smile. At that moment, the wedding march began, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I realized I had arrived when Dad spoke, and even though he didn't agree with my marriage, he accepted it. He wasn't rude to Roland, who hadn't stopped looking at me. Father Gabriel smiled.
"I have nothing more to say. I know you'll take care of her with your life, that much is clear. Love her."
"Thank you, Mr. Fausto."
"I still wonder what she sees in you."
I lowered my gaze; it was something even I couldn't explain. Roland smiled.
"If you figure it out before I do, please let me know."
Dad stepped away, leaving me with him at the altar. The priest had a microphone attached to his cheek.
"I want to comment," the priest began to speak. "It's been over two decades since I conducted a wedding where the bride wore a veil." Roland looked at me with a furrowed brow, and the priest bowed to me. "It's a pleasure."
From what I could see, I would have to explain the meaning of the veil to my future husband with playdough; he didn't understand it. The ceremony began, and the next hour and a half flew by and yet felt slow. Roland never stopped looking at me. We made our vows, and when he placed the ring on my finger, I realized my hand was worth a fortune; it was thick, matching the engagement ring, and had at least six diamonds. The morning was incredible, well, everything seemed incredible to me today, the day was perfect.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the priest said. Roland looked at him. "God gives you your wife, take care of her and protect her."
"Thank you."
He stood in front of me, lifted my veil, his eyes shining brightly. We had kissed countless times, but this was our first kiss as husband and wife.
"What does the veil mean?" he asked in my ear, and I smiled.
"I'll tell you in a bit, now kiss me."
We were a pair of fools. We kissed again, and it wasn't a typical wedding kiss; it was long and drawn out. The priest cleared his throat a couple of times, and we pulled apart, laughing.
"What God has joined together, let no one separate."
He gave us his blessing, and the commotion that ensued when we turned around was overwhelming. We were swarmed with hugs, kisses, and handshakes. My father and brother hardly let go of me.