Page 129 of Never the Bride
It hits me then, how strange and wonderful this is. Six weeks ago, Selena got married, and somehow that changed all of us. We’ve been spending more time together, cooking, shopping for household items, talking, and actually learning who we are to each other outside the roles we used to be stuck in.
I used to carry around my family like a scar that refused to heal. They were something I distanced myself from, like the space would somehow prevent me from being like my mom and Selena. But standing here, dancing clumsily in the kitchen to Salt-N-Pepa, hearing my mom laugh as she tries to teach me how to chop cilantro without nearly taking off a finger, I feel something inside me stitching back together.
I don’t want to spend the next twenty-six years looking backward, cataloging the mistakes and the hurts. We’re not perfect. But we’re trying. Forgiveness is strong and important and heals my fears more than anything in my life ever has.
Well, anythingbesidesHess.
The conference room is bright,all glass and polished wood, as I sit across from Landon and his father, Clyde Hamilton. Never in a million years would I have thought I would be in a job interview with my brother-in-law to join his legal team, where I would draft and review real estate purchaseagreements, leases, and address zoning issues, but life keeps sending me in new and unexpected directions, and it’s exciting.
My palms are smooth against the folder of references I brought, though I keep my smile easy and professional.
“So,” Clyde begins, leaning back in his chair, “I hear you were quite a star at Van and Wendtz Law.”
I let out a small laugh. “I was for a while, and then I lost my passion for those kinds of cases.”
“Divorce cases?” Clyde clarifies.
“Yes.”
“I can imagine that would be an emotionally taxing line of work.”
More than you know.
Landon grins as he flips a pen between his fingers. “Camila is quick,” he says to his father. “And a hard worker. Selena brags on her all the time.”
“I’ll take hard work over anything else,” Clyde replies then fixes his gaze on me.
“Tell me about yourself. Let’s see if you’re a good fit for this company.”
The question hangs in the air. For a moment, I think of all the ways I’ve answered it before: law school credentials, experience, case history. But none of that is what comes to my lips now.
“I’m sure you’ve heard from Landon, but I’m married to Hess.” I say the words confidently, as if being his wife is my greatest achievement. “That’s an important part of my life. I’ve learned that, while I’ll always work hard at my job, I also believe family and relationships need to come first.”
Even as I say it, I feel a flicker of surprise, an imposter syndrome I can’t quite shake. I don’t even recognize myself in this answer. The old me would have led with ambition, with late nights and wins notched like battle scars. But this version—the one who sets her heart right beside her career…she feels likesomeone I want to know better. Someone I’m proud of being at the end of the day.
I meet Clyde’s gaze again, sitting straighter in my seat. “What that means is, I’m committed. When I take something on—whether it’s my marriage or your portfolio—I give it everything I’ve got.”
For a beat, the room is quiet. Then Clyde’s mouth curves in approval, slow but certain. “That’s the kind of loyalty we value in this company, and I think you’d be a great asset here.”
Landon’s eyes meet mine, and there’s something like respect there—maybe even admiration. I’ve come a long way from the girl who tried to break him apart from Selena.
I breathe a little deeper, a little easier.
I like this new me.
I like the woman who is working just as hard to make her marriage last as she does to build her career. And for the first time, I believe I can have both.
Sunday dinnerat Bart and Anita Taylor’s house is nothing short of controlled chaos. Hess’s mom insists on serving everything family-style, which means the table is crammed with bowls and platters of meat so heavy you’ve got to pass with two hands or risk disaster. Everyone talks at once, and instead of making me feel overwhelmed, it makes me smile.
Anita fusses about who let the serving spoon fall into the potatoes, Bart argues the green beans need more salt, Ashley is topping off glasses of punch on the kid table behind us like she’s racing to finish before they spill, while Hess and his brothers passionately discuss yesterday’s ASU game.
I grew up with dinners in front of the television, where the only discussion was who Selena and I thought would get kicked off ofDancing With the Starsnext. Here, everything is a messy, loud, tangle of voices, and I love it.
I’m reaching for the cornbread when Rhett suddenly leans forward, fork raised like he’s purposely calling me out. “So, Camila,” he says, loud enough to silence at least half the table, “what cinched the deal? What made you actually want to stay married to my brother? ‘Cause we all know it sure as heck wasn’t that lame kiss he gave you at the cabin.”
Dane wipes his lips with his napkin. “I think it was whatever Hess did to break the bedframe.”
Ashley bursts out laughing, while Anita gasps.
