Chapter 67
GAbrIEL
Cecilia steals my breath the next day when I arrive at her place to pick her up for my Mother’s wedding.
She greets me at her door in a pale blue dress that falls to the ground in soft gauzy waves. The dress is sleeveless, the neckline scalloped in a way that accentuates the column of her neck.
Her hair is styled in loose waves around her face and she’s wearing more makeup than usual. A mask to cover the lingering discoloration on her skin, but she’s just as beautiful as ever.
“You look stunning,” I tell her and offer her my arm.
She accepts my arm and follows me outside. “Thanks.”
I lead her to my bike only to hesitate as I take in her dress once again.
“I didn’t really think—”
“I wore shorts underneath,” she says with a grin.
Perfect.
Helping her adjust her helmet, I guide her onto my bike and we set off for the wedding.
We’re a few minutes late when we arrive, so I slip in the back, taking a seat in one of the last pews of the church. Cecilia slides in beside me, her hand immediately finding mine. “You doing okay?” She squeezes, a subtle sign of reassurance.
“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 makes their 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.
“Justin,” he supplies before turning to my mother. “Bernadina?” There’s a question in his voice.
My mother’s face contorts in disbelief. ”What are you doing here, Gabriel?” She whispers my name as if it’s a curse.
I step back, realization digging knives into my chest. “You sent me an invitation. I … I thought you wanted me to come?”
Her new husband—Justin—looks taken aback, clearly not at all aware that his new wife has a son.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “I didn’t know Bernadina had a surviving son.” So she told him about Carlos, but she didn’t bother mentioning me?
Sharp talons sink into my chest, twisting and yanking until it becomes difficult to breathe.
My mother tries to regain her composure, her voice strained. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. There must have been an oversight. I didn’t mean for you to be here. I—”
The words sting more than I expect, and anger bubbles up within me. “An oversight? Really, Mom?” There’s a bite in my voice that I don’t intend to be there, but fuck—is she for real right now?
The younger of the groomsmen steps forward.
“I’m the one who sent the invitation,” he says, and all eyes turn in his direction.
“I found your contact information in Bernadina’s address book.
I didn’t know who you were. I thought you were family, given the last name.
I’m sorry. I was just trying to help with the wedding.
” He ducks his head and mumbles another apology.
“It’s alright, son,” Justin tells him. “We’ll get this sorted out.” I can see it now. The resemblance between the two of them. I flick my gaze between him and another of the groomsman, who’s now making his way toward us.
“Hey.” He smiles wide as soon as he’s close and offers me his hand. “I’m Asher. Have we met?”
They’ve got to be no more than a year or two apart. Close to my age. Brothers. A spear of jealousy hits me square in the chest.
Cecilia’s fingers wrap around my biceps. “Gabriel?” she says, and I realize the groomsman—Asher— is still waiting for me to shake his hand.
Fuck. My jaw clenches.
Asher drops his hand once he realizes I’m not going to take it. He looks around at the faces in our circle, taking note of the tension that hangs thick in the air. “What’s going on?” The question is directed at his brother. “Adam?”
“You replaced us,” I say to my mother. “One for Dad—” I indicate Justin, her new husband.
“One for Carlos.” I turn to Adam. “And one for me.” My eyes meet Asher’s dark brown and confused gaze.
He’s the closest in age to me. Hell, for all I know, he’s also twenty-two.
A stepbrother. Carlos is dead, and this guy is now my stepbrother.
The surrealness of the situation slams into me and I bark out a laugh. It’s jagged and hollow even to my own ears, but fuck if I care.
My mother winces.
What she’s doing, it’s a slap in the face. She’s built an entirely new life with a new husband and new children, one where there’s no room left for me.
I can’t contain my emotions any longer. “I’m sorry for intruding on your perfect day,” I snap, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Congratulations on your new family. I hope you give a shit about this one more than you did your last.”
I turn my back on them and storm away. Cecilia rushes after me, struggling to keep pace in her heels. I know I need to slow my steps, let her catch up to me, but I can’t. All I want to do is put as much distance as possible between me and my mother.
Fuck her and fuck her new family.
“Gabriel, wait!” Cecilia calls out.
I ignore her. I can’t … fuck. The walls are closing in on me. I can’t breathe. My chest squeezes like a vice cutting off my airflow. I can’t do this right now. I need—my eyes dart around, searching for an escape— a way out of this nightmare.
I shove my way through the crowd, ignoring the bewildered looks from my mother’s guests. Cecilia’s cries fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the storm of emotions raging inside me.