19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Lisa
After all the guests leave, and Lily and Noah head off to spend the weekend at the lake house, Mateo and I begin cleaning up after the party. Pink confetti is scattered everywhere, clinging to nearly every piece of furniture in the living room. We move methodically, gathering the remnants of the celebration, the comfortable silence between us a welcome reprieve after the chaos of the last few hours. Every now and then, our eyes meet, and I know we’re both thinking about what we shared in the guesthouse—the incredible moments that bound our hearts together forever.
After I toss the last paper plate and cup in the trash bag, Mateo ties it into a tight knot. His expression softens as he glances at me. "I got a call from my secretary while I was at the house," he says. "I have to go to Mérida next week."
"Next week?" I say, watching him closely
He nods, his tone apologetic. "I’d want you to come with me, but I know you just got back to work, and there’s still so much to do for the wedding."
I smile faintly, trying to hide my disappointment. "And I’m taking time off for our honeymoon," I say, teasing to lighten the moment.
"I can go and be back in a few days," he promises, stepping closer. His voice lowers. "I’ll miss you, though."
"I'll miss you too," I reply. "I'll use that time to decorate the house and attend my bridal shower."
"Have the girls already set a date for your shower?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "That was fast."
"Nothing is more productive than the last minute," I quip, flashing a grin.
He chuckles, but his gaze turns thoughtful. "I’m keeping my house in Mérida," he says. "We can vacation there throughout the year. It’s beautiful—right on the beach. You’ll love it."
I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his neck. My voice dips as I tilt my head to meet his gaze. "You’re not planning to take me there for our honeymoon?"
His arms encircle my waist, pulling me close. He brushes a kiss against my neck, his breath warm against my skin. "No," he murmurs, his lips trailing upward to meet mine in a tender kiss, before adding. "I’m taking you to Spain."
"Spain?" I exclaim, unable to hide my excitement. "Ooh! Do I get to meet your family?"
His smile deepens. "Yes. I want you to meet my parents, my brothers, their wives, and all my nieces and nephews. They’ll adore you."
Curiosity flickers in my chest. "Why isn't Lily close to your side of the family?" I ask, tilting my head.
Mateo’s expression shifts, a shadow crossing his features. "She met them a few times when she was little," he says, his tone softer now. "But once she started school, Sophia and her parents became... protective. They wanted her focused on academics, and they controlled her time tightly. I saw her during the holidays, but after the divorce..." He pauses, the memory evident in his voice. "Sophia never let me take her out of the country again, except for Mérida. My mother sent her birthday and Christmas gifts for the first few years. At some point, the distance was enough for everyone to forget we were a family.”
“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” I say, guilt twisting in my chest.
Mateo shakes his head, his gaze distant. “You don’t have to apologize,” he murmurs, the weight of his own guilt evident in every word. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.” He exhales sharply. “I allowed it to happen. I should have tried harder. Done better.”
The pain etched into his face tells me he's been carrying this regret for years. I reach up to cup his cheek, my thumb brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. "You have the power to close the distance," I whisper. "I think we should plan a family trip to Spain next summer."
His hand covers mine, his fingers warm. "I'm so lucky," he says softly. "They're going to love you."
***
Lily and I are at the new house today, decorating the guest room. Something in me still hopes that my father will show up for my wedding and I know he would want to stay here.
“Are you sure you don’t mind watching Davey while I go to my doctor’s appointment?” Lily asks, tucking in the corner of the sheet on the bed.
“Of course I don’t mind,” I reply, as I smooth the comforter. “Davey’s promised to teach me some Spanish. I’m counting on him to help me impress my in-laws.”
Lily pauses, her hands lingering on the pillow she’s fluffing. “I spoke to Dad,” she says, glancing at me with a spark of excitement in her eyes. “He told me about your suggestion. Noah and I talked it over, and... we’d love to go to Spain next summer. I want to reconnect with my family and have them meet Noah, Davey, and Charlotte!”
"Charlotte?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
"Charlotte Sophia Linder," she says, her face lighting up.
"It has a nice ring to it," I say with a smile, picturing baby Charlotte in my mind now that she has a name. My heart swells at the thought. "I can’t wait to meet her."
Lily’s expression shifts, her eyes alight with something unsaid. It’s the kind of look that hints at news she’s been holding onto.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Marian left a couple of days ago," she says, trying to hide a smile. "She told Noah she’d stay until after Christmas, but then she showed up unexpectedly—like she always does—and said goodbye to Davey."
The news leaves me momentarily stunned.
"Are you kidding me?!" I exclaim, matching her grin, "It sounds like Christmas came a little early."
"Davey was disappointed," Lily says, her voice tinged with sympathy. "He really wanted her to see him in his tux on your wedding day."
I nod. "I’m sad for him too," I admit. "But honestly, I’m relieved she won’t be here. At least now I don’t have to worry about her trying to ruin my wedding."
Lily tilts her head, her expression curious. "Speaking of the wedding, have you asked Aaron to walk you down the aisle?"
A smile spreads across my face. "We had dinner with him and Loren the night before Mateo left for Mérida," I say. "I asked him, and he said yes."
"I'm so happy for you!" Lily exclaims.
"Aaron has been so much more than a friend to me since the day we met," I say, my voice filled with gratitude. "He and Loren have been there every step of the way, supporting and encouraging me with every goal I’ve set for myself—first school, then my business. I don’t think I could’ve done it without them."
I turn to Lily. "I don’t think I could’ve done it without you either."
***
“What do you think?" I ask, stepping out of the dressing room. My happiness is mirrored in the faces of my best friends—Lily, Katherine, Loren, and Laila.
I turn to face the mirror, and for a moment, I don’t recognize myself. The dress is breathtaking, with delicate lace sleeves that skim my arms and a neckline that feels both timeless and elegant. The train pools behind me, and the veil drapes over my shoulders, cascading down my back like a waterfall, the lace edging shimmering softly under the boutique’s warm lights.
“I knew this one would be perfect,” Katherine says, stepping closer, her tone confident. “The neckline, the lace—it’s like it was designed just for you. Absolutely stunning. And that veil?” She gestures toward it, bunching her fingers, kissing the tips, and flicking them outward with flair. “Chef's kiss!” I glance at her through the mirror, my lips curved into a disbelieving smile. “You think so?”
“Think so?” Laila pipes up, tilting her head as if she’s analyzing every inch of the dress and veil. “Are you kidding? It’s amazing! But, more importantly—” She steps closer, her practical side kicking in. “Is it comfortable? You’ll be wearing it for hours. No pinching? No itchy seams? And can you move with that veil?”
I laugh, shifting my shoulders a little to test the fit. “Shockingly, yes. It’s actually comfortable. I can breathe. I can move. The veil doesn’t even feel heavy. I think I could even dance in it.”
Loren sighs dramatically, clasping her hands together like she’s watching a scene in a romance movie. “Forget comfort. Can we talk about how utterly romantic it is? This dress—and that veil—makes you look like you just stepped out of a fairy tale.
Lily steps forward, her gaze warm. “They’re all right, you know,” she says. “You look beautiful, Lisa. Not just because of the dress or the veil. It’s... you. The way you’re glowing right now. I can't wait to see my dad's face when he sees you walking down the aisle.”
I blink quickly, feeling the telltale sting of tears. The reflection staring back at me feels surreal—like this version of me belongs in a storybook. “Thank you," I say, emotion bubbling up in my chest.
I let out a shaky breath, turning back to the mirror. My friends are all reflected behind me, their smiles wide and reassuring. This moment is so much more than just a dress and a veil—it feels like a symbol of everything waiting for me in this next chapter of my life.
“I think I’m in love,” I whisper, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
“With the dress or the groom?” Katherine teases, her voice light, drawing laughter from everyone.
I meet their eyes in the mirror and smile, my chest swelling with joy. “Both,” I reply softly, feeling the truth of it settle into my heart.
***
When the girls ask what I want to do for my bachelorette party, they probably expect me to suggest a small party or a girls’ night out. But none of us drink, and honestly, spending time together is always the goal. So, we go out for brunch, and I ask them to come over afterward to help me decorate the new house. It’s the perfect way to celebrate and prepare for Mateo’s return.
When we’re done, we stand together and admire our handiwork. It’s perfect—warm, welcoming, and brimming with little touches that feel like home.
“The porch is my favorite,” Laila says, stepping onto the wraparound porch. She twirls in place, her arms outstretched. “Look at the lights! You can’t tell me these fairy lights weren’t the best decision ever.”
“They make the space feel warm," Lily says, dropping onto the wicker loveseat. "Despite the cold weather, I could sit out here all day." She plucks at one of the bright floral pillows. “I'm taking credit for these pillows. You’re welcome.”
Katherine laughs, "I think we can all agree this porch is perfect. I mean, lanterns, pillows, fairy lights—it’s like Pinterest threw up in here.”
“And it’s gorgeous,” Laila adds, adjusting one of the lanterns dangling overhead. “I told you the lanterns would tie it all together.”
I open the door, and everyone follows me inside, where the familiar scent of fresh flowers hits me. Loren’s idea. Of course.
“Okay, but the kitchen,” I say, my voice pitching higher with excitement. “This is exactly what I wanted—clean, airy, and welcoming. The island is just begging for late-night snacks and conversations.”
“Or late-night make-out sessions,” Katherine chimes in from behind me, waggling her eyebrows.
“Katherine!” Loren exclaims, throwing her a mock glare.
“What?” She smirks. “You know I’m right. That man’s probably halfway through his flight right now, dreaming about all the ways the two of you are going to christen this house.”
“Oh my gosh, stop!” Lily groans. “No one wants that mental image, least of all me.”
I laugh, leaning against the counter and taking it all in—the chatter, the laughter, the love filling the house. It feels right. Mateo will be walking through that door soon, and I can’t wait to share all of this with him.
***
"Ugh, I missed you so much, hermosa ," Mateo's voice wraps around me as his arms hold me tight. I inhale deeply, savoring his scent and the closeness of him.
"I missed you too!" I exclaim, planting featherlight kisses all over his face. "Come here!" I say, walking up the porch steps. "Do you like it?"
He glances around, taking in the updated porch. "It looks amazing," he says.
"Wait until you see inside," I smile, a little giddy. "Close your eyes."
He grins, closing his eyes as I lead him inside. "Okay, open your eyes."
He opens them, and I watch as his gaze sweeps across the room, taking in every detail. "You did a wonderful job, hermosa . I love it all."
I give him a tour of the rest of the house, except for our bedroom. "This is where we're going to spend our wedding night," I say, leaning against the door. "I want it to be a surprise."
"Come here," he murmurs, pulling me into a warm hug.
"Are you tired?" I ask, sensing the weariness in his tone. "Was your trip a success? Did you get everything squared away?"
"I'm not tired," he smiles, though there’s something unreadable in his gaze. "I'm hungry though. How about we go out for dinner after I shower and change?"
"How about you go do that," I say, "and in the meantime, I'll make dinner for us here instead?"
"And then I'll make you dessert," he teases, his voice low and playful.
"Mateo makes the best dessert ." Marian's words intrude into my thoughts, sharp and unwelcome, like a thief stealing something precious. I push them aside immediately, determined to focus on this moment with the man I love.
When his lips find mine, I melt into his arms, the kiss so familiar yet so new. A week was way too long. I never, ever want to be apart from him again.
***
My wedding day is finally here, and I’m so ready to marry Mateo. This is something I’ve dreamed about for as long as I can remember, and the fact that it’s finally happening feels surreal. My bridesmaids have just stepped out—Katherine and Loren to check on their kids, and Laila and Lily to the bathroom for what feels like the hundredth time today. Pregnancy has them running there constantly, but they insist they wouldn't miss a second of this day.
Left alone for a moment, I stand in front of the mirror, taking in my reflection. The dress is everything I imagined and more. For the first time, I truly feel like a bride. The room is quiet, save for the soft rustle of fabric as I adjust the train, and I close my eyes for a moment, letting the significance of this day sink in.
There’s a light knock on the door, and it cracks open. I glance over my shoulder, expecting Laila or maybe Lily, but instead, Aaron steps inside. His handsome face shows a mix of pride and genuine happiness for me, "You look beautiful," he says, though something about his expression shifts, becoming more serious.
“What is it?” I ask, my pulse quickening as I turn fully toward him.
His eyes soften as a slight smile touches his lips. “Your father is here,” he says, but the familiar, protective look in his eyes tells me he’s ready to shield me if necessary. “What?” I murmur, the words catching in my throat. “Dad is here?”
My heart stutters, disbelief washing over me. For a moment, I don’t know if I should feel relief, joy, or the sting of old wounds reopening.
"What do you want to do?" Aaron asks. "He's dressed for a wedding, Lisa."
I blink, trying to process his words. "Give me a few minutes," I manage, my voice unsteady. "I never expected him to show up."
Aaron’s hands settle firmly on my shoulders, grounding me with a quiet strength. His steady gaze meets mine, full of understanding. "Whatever you decide," he says gently. "It’s your day, Lisa. If you want your dad to walk you down the aisle, I’ll support you. My feelings won’t be hurt—this is about what makes you happy."
"Thank you," I whisper, a small smile forming as I look up at him.
"Take all the time you need," he says, his voice warm and reassuring. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before stepping back.
As he shuts the door softly behind him, the room grows quiet, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I take a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. It doesn’t take long for clarity to settle in. I know exactly what I want to do.
***
Five minutes later, the door creaks open, and my father steps inside, dressed impeccably in a tuxedo that matches my wedding colors down to the tie and pocket square. His gaze sweeps over me, lingering for a moment when our eyes meet. He offers a small smile—polite, restrained—but it doesn’t reach his eyes. The warmth I once longed to see in them is still absent, replaced by the familiar disapproving scowl that seems permanently etched into his features. "So, you're doing this," he says, his voice flat. "I will walk you down the aisle, Annalisa, but don’t mistake my willingness for approval. I don’t accept the colossal mistake you're making."
"Why can't you just be happy for me, Dad?" I say, my voice trembling with disappointment. "You traveled all the way here, got dressed, only to come in here and remind me, once again, that you disapprove of my choices. Why even go through the trouble?"
"I'm your father," he mutters, his voice low and cold. "It's my duty to give you away."
I can’t help but replay the moment I asked Aaron to walk me down the aisle.
"It will be my honor to give you away," he had said, his eyes glistening with quiet emotion. "The things you've accomplished all on your own fill me with fatherly pride. I'm so proud of you, Lisa."
The contrast between their words—my father’s duty versus Aaron’s genuine pride—hits me hard.
"Thanks, Dad," I say, the reality of the moment settling over me. "Thanks for confirming what I’ve always known deep down: no matter how much I love you, how much I crave your approval or wish you were part of my life, you don't feel the same way. And you never will."
I watch as a wave of emotions sweeps over his face—shock, anger, disbelief, indignation. His round face turns a bright red. He flaps his lips, looking for words to throw back at me. "I didn’t come here to be insulted by my own daughter. You should be thankful I showed up at all!"
"I'm thankful you're here," I say, offering him a genuine smile. The truth settles over me, rooting itself deep inside, bringing a quiet acceptance that calms my soul. "Thank you for being here, Dad. You can join our wedding guests downstairs and be part of the festivities afterward, but Aaron is walking me down the aisle."
For a moment, he just stares at me, his chest rising and falling with each angry breath. His eyes flicker with something—something that almost looks like pain—but it’s quickly replaced by more defiance. Slowly, he turns toward the door, his back to me, his posture stiff with resentment. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t look back.
The door clicks shut behind him, and I stand there for a moment, feeling the weight of what just happened. It’s over. The finality of it settles over me, but strangely, I feel a sense of peace. I’ve made my decision. I’m moving forward—with Aaron, with the people who truly love me. And that’s all that matters.