But her body didn’t believe her.
Outside the church, the murmurs began to swell. Not compliments anymore—questions.
Where is Alejandro?
Doña Consuelo, the groom’s mother, glanced at her gold watch with the kind of worry that tasted like anger. She knew better than anyone what Alejandro had been doing the night before. She had prayed he would show up sober. Presentable. Anything that wouldn’t stain the family name in front of the entire town.
Then a black SUV screeched to a halt at the church steps.
Alejandro stepped out with a movement that was too sharp, too sloppy at the same time. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes until he reached the shade of the atrium. His stride was firm but aggressive, like he was marching toward something he resented.
And the smell—God, the smell—aged tequila threaded through expensive cologne, lingering behind him like a warning.
He didn’t greet anyone. Not even his mother.
He walked toward the altar with his jaw clenched, as if the wedding were a punishment.
María Fernanda got out of her car the moment she saw him enter, relief washing over her so suddenly she almost laughed at herself. Her father offered his arm. The organ began the wedding march. Cameras rose. The town stood.
For a moment, her beauty made everyone forget the groom’s lateness.
But when María reached the altar, Alejandro didn’t turn to look at her.
He stared past her, past the priest, toward the wooden Christ at the back of the church like he was daring heaven to judge him.
When her father placed her hand in Alejandro’s, he gripped it too tightly, no gentleness at all. His fingers were damp and cold. María searched his face for that familiar connection they used to have, the one she had convinced herself still existed beneath stress and business and heat.
He didn’t meet her eyes.
The priest spoke of love, patience, respect. Alejandro wiped sweat from his brow, growing more irritated by every sentence. Each time the priest said “honor,” the groom’s mouth twitched like he was being forced to swallow something bitter.
When it was time for vows, María’s voice was clear. Sweet. Full of hope so genuine that a few women in the front rows wiped their eyes.
Then Alejandro spoke.
His words came fast, like a man reciting a contract he couldn’t wait to finish.
He didn’t look at her once as he promised to love and respect her.
