50. Hugo
Chapter 50
Hugo
I married Mallory, not in the wedding hall we built recently, but among the olive trees, where my dad walked. A place where I can close my eyes and hear the rich baritone of his laughter. Feel his gait beneath me as I sat atop his shoulders.
When I look into Mallory's brown eyes and pledge my everlasting love and devotion to her, I know he is present.
"I felt him today," my mother says later, eyes shiny with unshed tears. "When I was getting ready. I looked in the mirror, and I felt his hands on my shoulders."
"I believe it, Mom." I kiss her on the cheek. "I've never given much thought to how it all must've been for you when he died. You were devastated, but it didn't keep you from taking good care of us. How did you manage that?"
"Hugo, my boy," she reaches up, pats my cheek. "I could see your father in your faces. My broken heart came second to my responsibility to you and your sister. "
"Thank you, Mom. I mean it." I hug her, spot my wife over her shoulder. Mallory smiles wide. Happy and beautiful. I send her a wink.
I'm not a gambling man, but I'd bet someone had a hand in bringing her to me.