13 - LARA
The flight is delayed, and my first thought is: it's a sign.
I say I'm giving up, but they talk me into it again.
Pri says “That's my girl!” That's how she keeps us going until we're rushing around in the bus station bathroom, a few kilometers from the church, getting ready amid laughter.
Priscila's laugh is loose and carefree. Mine and Barbs's? Nervous and apprehensive.
“Wow, must be a fancy wedding,” the rideshare driver comments as we pull up near the church and spot several upscale vehicles parked outside, along with some security guards nearby. Well, at least they look like security guards.
In front of the cathedral, I take a deep breath, and Priscila pulls me along.
We climb the stairs. This place has never felt so massive. I feel like I'm being swallowed by the double doors at the entrance. The ceremony must be halfway through. Bárbara and Pri settle into the second-to-last pew. I take the last one, a little corner just big enough for me, right behind them.
I notice everyone at the altar is emotional, including my twin brothers.
I spot Olavo with a blonde woman who looks a lot like David, and David himself is there with his wife, Paula.
All of them so elegant. I press my palms against my thighs.
What am I doing here? This is crazy. Then again, what hasn't been crazy these past few weeks? I'm completely lost.
Laura, looking beautiful, wipes a tear from Adam's face. My chest tightens. I feel like my heart might explode from all these powerful, contradictory feelings battling inside me. He won't stop smiling. God!
Then I remember I didn't come here to try anything.
I'm here to show that... I'm superior? How horrible!
They walked all over me. Fine, I went overboard at the engagement party, even after suspecting who they were.
I put my personal drama above everything—my wounded pride, not the betrayed woman's pain, because the betrayed one is the one getting married.
Oh my God, I need to leave! My thoughts are spiraling. This isn't me.
And Barbs? She never made it clear what she wants. Closure, or to try something with Olavo? He brushed her off... because of me. Crap! Okay, I'm here for her. For Barbs. That's it. I take a deep breath. I swallow my pride.
Lord have mercy, the vows...
I see Priscila whispering to Bárbara. The bride and groom's words at the altar pull my attention. I think my friends are looking at me. I'm not even sure. Everything's a hazy blur. How could I have fallen for this guy?
No... I can't do this anymore. Not anymore. Not like this. It's torture. I'm not a masochist. Bárbara will have to forgive me—I can help another day, another time, but not now. I stand up and Priscila collapses. What?
I hear people calling for help. All eyes turn to... me.
I watch them carry Pri off to the sacristy.
Bárbara goes with her, catching Olavo's incredulous stare as they pass down the center aisle, crossing in front of the altar.
David looks like he's on the verge of panic when the beautiful woman beside his friend announces she's a doctor and rushes to help.
I don't even know how I ended up here, in front of the bride and groom, being hugged by a tearful Louise.
My father stands behind her, smiling weakly.
Natanael gives me a subtle “what the hell?” gesture. Nicolas watches too intently.
“If you ruin this, I'll kill you,” my mother whispers in my ear, her voice smiling as she finishes greeting me.
The moment I'm free from her clutches, I notice Adam's parents on the other side, their looks suspicious and accusatory.
While the priest asks for calm, assuring the guests that everything is under control—whose control?
God's? Look, Father, He's been pretty cruel to me lately.
With all due respect—and that they'll continue with the ceremony shortly, Laura starts toward me.
I murmur something like an apology to everyone nearby and go after Bárbara and Priscila.
In the sacristy—a spacious, bright, airy room—I learn the doctor is David's cousin.
She checked my friend's heart rate and vital signs, found nothing wrong, and concluded it must have been emotion.
Weddings do that to people. Right... I'm the one who's emotionally shaken that she didn't realize it was all an act.
They bring cotton soaked in alcohol. I almost joke that now she'll wake up. She might even ask for another dose.
Pri puts on a terrible performance of waking up. I see David slip in quietly.
“ágata, please, you can go. I'll take it from here,” he says politely, his voice so controlled I can almost hear a suspense soundtrack starting. The beginning of the massacre. Damn, this blond guy is terrifying. He whispers something to her, and she glances at us before leaving.
Olavo is in a corner and takes two steps toward the door.
“You stay,” David demands.
Olavo freezes. Bárbara sits down next to Priscila and takes her hand, her eyes fixed on the floor.
“Understand, I have nothing—we have nothing—against the lifestyle you've chosen, but that doesn't give you the right to ruin other people's lives.” What is this guy talking about?
David looks at me hard. “From what I understand, you were paid for a year's worth of work at the club, plus full severance.
You should be satisfied, because nothing more is coming out of Adam's pockets for you.
Or Olavo's for you,” he says, turning to Bárbara with a dismissive gesture.
Pri hugs our friend. David turns back to me.
“If your sister wants to offer you something, give you money, that's between you two. After your vulgar little show at the engagement party, I doubt she will.”
What's happening? Who does this jerk think he is? What did he mean by work at the club? Oh. My. God. I slowly turn to look at my friends. Guilty expressions. They understood. They hid this from me. All those whispers and hushed conversations I waited so long to have explained.
“You lied to me,” my voice comes out low but sharp, directed at Bárbara. “It wasn’t about being in love with Olavo, it was about this. They think we’re prostitutes?” They stare at me in silence. “Answer me, Priscila! Because any second now, she’s not the one who’s going to faint for real—I am.”
Silence.
“They’re not, David,” Olavo speaks up, his voice choked, gaze fixed on Bárbara, who’s also tearful. “There was a problem with the group we hired. They went somewhere else. I... I just wanted everyone to have fun.”
“Sorry, Lara...” Priscila murmurs.
“You knew all along?” Bárbara releases her, shocked.
“Olavo told me... Like he said, we just wanted everyone to have fun. You guys needed it. I just...”
“We paid the group for Adam’s bachelor party, damn it!” David loses his temper, cutting Priscila off.
“It was refunded. It wouldn’t have made a difference in our bank accounts anyway,” Olavo says, justifying himself childishly.
“We paid these three! You and Adam got laid, but not me! I paid for the time, but I didn’t do anything sexual with her,” David points at Priscila roughly. “I woke up on the floor, completely wrecked, but I didn’t do anything. Absolutely nothing.”
“No, you asshole, we didn’t have sex,” Priscila confirms.
“The envelope on the nightstand—you said he’d left a tip for the motel.
Our argument about my work, he wasn’t talking about me being an engineer, about working at construction sites that are mostly men...
no, he... The envelope on my bed... my God!
” I feel my eyes burning. “He thought I was... He thought I was... He was a client... I... It was never real... Nothing...”
“What? You left it at the motel? He said it was a wad of cash,” David says, surprised, ignoring my outburst.
“No, it’s in an investment account.”
“We didn’t want to touch dirty money,” Bárbara adds, finishing Priscila’s thought.
“Dirty?” I laugh, a mix of despair and mockery. “Now prostitutes are dirty?! Screw all of you.” I have to get out of here. “I want to be far away from all of you.”
One of the priests enters, wants to know if everything’s okay—they need to finish the union. Union... what an appropriate little word.
I leave the sacristy on wobbly legs. He always thought I was a prostitute.
Now he’s getting married. How many more will he have during this marriage?
Doesn’t matter to me. I look at the couple in disbelief.
Adam frowns at me. His hand on her waist. I approach them.
I feel anxious eyes following me as I walk.
What? Are they expecting another scandal from the whore?
I try to convey as much warmth as possible to Laura. I don’t know how much of this mess she deserves, but from the bottom of my heart, I truly hope she’ll be happy. That he’ll be a better husband and find happiness too.
“I wish you a marriage filled with love. Sorry for all the trouble.” Before stepping down from the altar, I hug my brothers, assuring them I’ll stay far away.
Starting over from scratch has never been a problem for me.