Page 40 of The No Falling Rule
“Whoa, calm down, little brother,” Fernando says, his tone mocking. “I just thought you were going to introduce her as your wife.”
The woman beside Fernando shushes him just as the music fills the room.
A spotlight lands on the musicians, elegant in their tuxedos and gowns. As they launch into the wedding march, the opulence of the whole scene steals my breath.
Everyone rises, and Violeta appears at the end of the aisle, looking like a dream Barbie. Her dress is gorgeous—a white tulle gown scattered with tiny diamonds that catch the light as she walks. The deep V-neck corset hugs her body perfectly, and her long veil glitters with the same delicate gems.
When she and her father reach the groom, the men exchange a few words. Then, as the bride and groom finally stand together, he leans in for a kiss—but she pulls back with a teasing smile and shakes her head. The crowd laughs, and I breathe a little easier, feeling Diego relaxing next to me.
The officiant begins speaking about the happy couple and how love is “palpable.” I don’t know them, so I tune out, letting my gaze drift around the venue. The soft colors and delicate details make everything feel like a fairy tale. Tall floral arrangements are strategically placed throughout the venue, creating a sense of an enchanted forest within the room.
Before I know it, they’re exchanging vows. A low murmur ripples through the crowd as the groom pulls a rumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Diego takes my hand in his, resting them both on his lap. Butterflies run wild in my belly as he recites the traditional vows in my ear. I close my eyes and let his words seep into my soul.
He knows I’m a sure lay—I told him as much when he picked me up earlier. But no one recites vows just to get someone into bed. Right?.
I need to believe these magical days are real—and that somehow, we’ll make it work when we’re back in the States.
As the bride and groom are pronounced husband and wife, I tilt my head up to kiss Diego’s jaw—right as he leans down to kiss me. Pure kismet.
While the newlyweds are ushered toward the beach for photos, Diego and I linger at cocktail hour. This time, he takes me to chat with his parents. Both greet me with warm smiles, engaging me in conversation like I’ve always been part of their circle.
“So, Mia, do you live in the States? Or are you local?” Diego’s mom asks as he’s pulled aside by his dad and brothers.
“I live in North Carolina,” I say, as my eyes follow Diego across the room. He seems frustrated, his gaze flicking toward me more than once.
“Oh, that’s good. Not too far from Massachusetts,” his mother replies warmly. “I’m sure you and Diego will find a way to stay in touch once everyone’s back home.”
I nod and take a slow sip of champagne. The bubbles burn my throat as they go down. It feels wrong to talk about future plans with her when Diego and I haven’t even had this conversation yet.
A few of the other women in the family join us, their laughter filling the space, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Diego. His expression hardens with each passing second, irritation tightening his jaw.
“He’ll be alright,” Eva—the mother of the bride—says, noticing my worry. “They just learned that the deal they were hoping to close in Chile early next year might fall through unless they go in person to make a counteroffer.”
A dozen thoughts race through my mind.
“And he got the short end of the stick,” I say quietly.
Eva chuckles softly. “You’re a quick learner.” She clinks her flute against mine, and although I smile, my stomach sinks. I can already see what’s coming.
If she’s right, Diego will have to leave for Chile. Which means I’ll be heading home—alone—and without ever having talked to him about the vows, about us, aboutanything.
Movement catches my eyes, and before I realize it, Diego’s crossed the short distance between us. His presence is sudden but steady, the heat of him pressing close enough for his breath to brush my skin.
“Bonita,” he whispers against my neck as the rest of the men approach our circle.
I give him a tight smile, hoping it’s enough to hide the ache rising in my throat.
He frowns. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, of course,” I lie smoothly. “I’m just a little nervous being around your entire family, and I haven’t even spoken with Violeta yet. I just hope I don’t ruin her day when she sees me here.”
It’s not a total lie. Although I’m nervous about his niece causing a scene, that’s not what’s twisting my insides.
“Don’t worry about her,” he says, resting a hand on my shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll have time to talk to her later. Right now, I want us to go grab some food, enjoy ourselves, and dance.” His eyes sparkle, full of easy joy.
I swallow and return his smile, trying to make it look real. If he doesn’t bring up the fact that he has to leave, I won’t bring it up either.
Maybe that’s for the best.
