“I’m just happy I could live long enough to see you return to the family. We missed you, Isabellita. You’re so special to us. To me. And Rosita. Te quiero, mijita.”
She plants a light kiss on my cheek.
“Is that my Isabellita?” a voice bellows, startling me.
I look up to see Rosita standing a few feet away. She wears a floor-length gown in a rich, deep shade of grey that catches the light with every movement. The fabric is soft and flowing, draping beautifully over her curves. The dress is adorned with delicate, intricate beading that sparkles in the fairy lights, adding a touch of glamour to the already stunning piece. As Rosita moves toward us, the dress skirt sways gracefully, revealing a hint of her strappy, metallic heels. She has accessorized with a simple yet elegant clutch in a matching shade of grey, and her hair is swept back into an elegant updo, revealing sparkling drop earrings that perfectly complement the dress.
“Hola, Tía!” I rush over and embrace her in my arms.
“Isabella, I am so proud of you. You did the thing that so many of us have been too scared to do. I’m so sorry I never told you.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I understand, I promise. I’m not mad at you. Is Sofia?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “She’s surprisingly taking it well. That, or she’s good at hiding how she really feels.”
“It’ll get easier, Tía. I promise.”
“Come, mija. I want to show you something,” Rosita says, leading me toward a random table to sit down.
Rosita reaches into her purse, pulls out a folded photograph, and slowly hands it to me. I open it to see Rosita and Roberto standing next to each other. Roberto is kissing Rosita on the cheek, and she’s smiling at the camera. It’s very clearly a couple’s portrait. I look closer and notice that Rosita is wearing a red shade of lipstick. One that looks nearly identical to the one on the note Valentina and I found in the journal but couldn’t match.
“I have to admit,” she begins, “that I’ve been avoiding you a bit all week.”
“You have? I guess I haven’t seen you much, now that I think about it. I was also super busy trying to discover the truth.” I laugh.
“I was. It’s been tough for me to see you here. It brought back a lot of sad memories of Roberto and me. All I wanted was for him to dance with Sofia at your quince, but Mari refused because people would know something was up. Or they’d start rumors, and she couldn’t have that.”
“I’m so sorry, Rosita. That must have been so hard,” I say, placing my hand on hers.
“All I wanted was for Sofia to grow up with her father, and she couldn’t. I lost my best friend, the love of my life, and my daughter’s father all in one night. Seeing you here reminded me of that night. But you’ve changed them for me. I’m finally at peace now, knowing Sofia knows the truth. I wish I could have done it differently, but I wasn’t brave enough. You were, mija, and I will forever be thankful for that.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my father’s help. His journal revealed everything. It especially revealed just how much you loved him. I only wish you could have had the life you wanted with him. You both deserved that. I love you so much, Tía.”
She pulls me in for a hug, her arms trembling slightly as she holds me close.
As she pulls back, she looks at me, her eyes heavy with regret. “I want you to know something, Isa. I never wanted to pretend to be your mother’s sister. That was Mari’s doing. She was the one who insisted I play along, that it was the only way to keep things quiet. Roberto agreed because he thought it would protect Sofia. It was Mari’s idea to tell everyone I was just another sister in the family. That way, no one would ask why I was always around, and no one would suspect Sofia was his daughter. She didn’t want anyone to question her marriage to Roberto, not even for a second.”
I blink, absorbing the revelation. “So you did it to protect Sofia—and to protect him?”
She nods. “I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. Mari threatened to cut me out of your lives entirely if I didn’t go along with it. She said I wouldn’t be allowed to see you or your father. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing both of you. So I went along with it, even though I still barely got to see you. And for years, I lived with that lie. I hate that it kept me from being honest with Sofia, but at least now she knows. Now, we can all move forward.”
“I can’t believe Mari had that much control over everything,” I whisper, my voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.
“She did,” Rosita says, her voice firm but laced with sadness. “But no more. Promise me you will tell Sofia everything you can about Roberto.”
“I promise.”
The sun has set, and the wedding is bathed in the warm, amber glow emanating from the canopy of string lights above the tables and dance floor.
Sofia and Luciano make their grand entrance, the canopy of string lights twinkling above them. As the band begins to play a soft, romantic melody, Sofia and Luciano make their way to the center of the dance floor, hand in hand. The guests, their eyes fixed on the happy couple, fall silent as the two begin to sway gently to the music.
Sofia is resplendent in her bridal gown, the delicate tulle and flowing train adding to the graceful movements of her dance. In his perfectly tailored suit, Luciano holds her close, his eyes locked on hers as they move together in perfect harmony. As they dance, it’s as if they are the only two people in the world. The rest of the room fades away, and they are lost in the moment’s magic. The string lights above them cast a warm, golden glow, highlighting the love and joy radiating from their faces. As the song builds, the tempo increases and Sofia and Luciano’s movements become more confident and spirited. They twirl and dip, their laughter ringing across the campsite, and we cheer them on, clapping and whistling in admiration.
Finally, as the song ends, they share a tender, lingering kiss. They pull away, their faces alight with happiness and contentment, and the guests erupt into a standing ovation. It’s a moment of pure magic, a celebration of love and joy that will be remembered by all fortunate enough to witness it. As Sofia and Luciano take their seats, their hands still entwined, it’s evident that the rest of the night will unfold in a whirlwind of music, dancing, and pure, unadulterated joy.
The tables at the reception area are draped in crisp white linens, and each setting is adorned with delicate silver flatware and shimmering crystal glasses. The centerpieces are an exquisite combination of white roses, baby’s breath, and greenery arranged in antique vases that add a touch of vintage charm to the affair. Sitting next to Valentina, I marvel at the beauty of it all, feeling as if I have stumbled into a magical fairy tale and Sofia is the princess.
The reception begins with a sumptuous feast, served individually to each guest by the waitstaff. The menu is a gourmet delight, featuring locally sourced, organic ingredients that have been masterfully crafted by Valentina and her team into an array of mouthwatering dishes. There is roasted salmon, served with a tangy dill sauce and a medley of grilled vegetables; braised short ribs, cooked to perfection and served with creamy mashed potatoes and roasted garlic; and a fragrant mushroom risotto, topped with shavings of aged parmesan cheese. Each dish is a work of Valentina’s culinary art, and I savor every bite.
