PART 2
When the garden gates opened and the music started, I felt everyone holding their breath.
Don Ricardo walked beside me with a serenity that my own father had never shown, not even when wishing me a happy birthday. Tall, impeccably dressed, with gray hair and that way of looking that men who don’t speak just to hear themselves talk. He didn’t ask me anything. He didn’t make me feel sorry for him. He was just there.
That was enough for Daniel to start crying from the altar.
The guests stood up. Some of my aunts cried too. My heart was shattered, but I walked upright. And when Don Ricardo left me next to Daniel, he squeezed my hand once, as if to say without words: this is real family.
The cameras recorded everything.
Three weeks later, Elisa posted a preview of the documentary on Facebook. It was two minutes and eighteen seconds long. Flowers, candles, nervous laughter, Daniel wiping his eyes… and then the exact moment when Don Ricardo offered me his arm. My voice could be heard softly:
“Are you sure?”
