“You’re crying. I’ve never seen you cry when you werehappy.”
She laughed, sniffed, smiled up at him. “I’ve never beenthishappybefore.”
He drew her close, held her, kissed the top of her head. “This is just the beginning,Mia.”
There would be so many happy days tocome.
Epilogue
June2
Mia looked into the mirror, her heart swelling. Her reflection smiled back at her, excitement on her face, long red curls hanging around her shoulders. “Wow.”
“You look stunning.” Holly stood beside her, beaming, makeup brushes inhand.
“You look beautiful—like a bride.” Isabel adjusted the lace veil attached to the barrette that held Mia’s curls back from her face. “My son is a luckyman.”
“Oh, Mia.” Elena, Mia’s maid of honor, blinked back tears. “Iknewyou and Quino would be right for eachother.”
Mia reached out, took Elena’s hand. “I will always love you forthat.”
Mia glanced around the room. “Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have pulled this together so quickly withoutyou.”
Elena had worked with the Cousin Mafia—that’s what Mia called them now—to help Mia order flowers, print and mail invitations, and pull together areception.
Isabel had loaned Mia her veil—the same antique lace veil she had worn at her own wedding and her mother beforeher.
Holly, who had become Mia’s closest friend, had done Mia’s hair and makeup. She had also helped Mia choose her dress—a white sleeveless gown with an illusion neckline and sweetheart bust that made the most of Mia’s chest, and a full skirt of silk taffeta that emphasized her narrow waist. The delicate lace details on the neckline were a close match for the lace in Isabel’s veil. But the best part about the gown was theskirt.
It came with a surprise, and only Mia and Holly knew what thatwas.
Mia turned so that her mother, who stood near the bedroom door, could see, too. “What do youthink?”
Her mother gave her a tight smile, her puffy eyes proof that she’d been crying. “You look verypretty.”
Mia knew her mother believed that the lack of sleeves was immodest, but Mia’s choice of gown was the least of her objections. What troubled her parents far more was the fact that Joaquin had been raised Catholic—and that he had brown skin. They’d never come right out and said it, but she knew it wastrue.
“Forget them,” Holly had said after the rehearsal dinner yesterday. “You enjoy yourday.”
Mia’s parents had offered to drive her to the dinner, but had taken the scenic route to Mateo’s restaurant, making Mia late. They’d spent the entire drive trying to talk her into calling off the wedding. She’d thought they had warmed up to Joaquin. After all, he had almost died trying to save her life. But what they’d said on that drive had proved to Mia that they’d been pretending to care abouthim.
“This is your last chance, Mia,” her father had said as they’d pulled into Aztlán’s parking lot. “End this before it becomes anotherregret.”
“I don’t have any regrets, Dad. I’m proud of the choices I’ve made. This isyourlast chance. Either accept that I love Joaquin and that I’m going to marry him, or go home and stay out of mylife.”
Mia had beenfurious.
Determined not to let her parents steal her joy, she took her bouquet—a confection of pink cabbage roses—from Elena, while Holly and Isabel adjusted her skirt andveil.
“The limo’s here,” Mia’s father called fromdownstairs.
“Let Elena carry your bouquet so you can hold your skirt,” Isabelsaid.
Mia’s mother stepped away from the door. “I’d like a moment alone with mydaughter.”
Isabel and Holly looked at Mia, whonodded.
Mia’s mother waited until the door had closed. “I wanted to give you this. It used to belong to mymother.”