Chapter 17 - The Wedding Maria Should Have Seen
They married at Maria's House.
Diana refused a luxury hotel.
Dominic suggested a cathedral.
She rejected that too.
“I want home.”
So they transformed the backyard.
White lights hung between trees.
Simple flowers covered long tables.
Rachel handled decorations badly enough that Elena eventually took over.
Marcus managed security even though nobody expected trouble.
“Habit,” he said.
Rook was ring bearer.
This decision proved questionable.
During rehearsal he stole a sandwich and disappeared under a table.
Dominic defended him.
“He's under pressure.”
Diana laughed.
The morning of the wedding, Rachel helped with her dress.
Their friendship had survived.
Changed.
More honest.
Not identical to before.
Better in some ways.
Harder in others.
Rachel fastened the final button.
“Do you trust me again?”
Diana looked at her through the mirror.
“Yes.”
Rachel's eyes filled.
“Completely?”
“No.”
Rachel nodded.
“Fair.”
Diana turned.
“But enough.”
They hugged.
That was what healing looked like.
Not erasing.
Rebuilding.
Elena entered carrying Maria's ring.
Diana stared.
“You ready?”
“No.”
Elena smiled.
“Good. Nobody interesting ever is.”
Outside, Dominic waited beneath an arch.
No charcoal suit.
No blood.
No gunfire.
Just a dark formal suit and the nervous expression of a man who had faced gang wars with more confidence than marriage.
Miguel walked Diana down the aisle.
She had asked him because he had known Daniel.
Before they began, Miguel whispered, “Your father would be proud.”
Diana squeezed his arm.
“I know.”
For years that sentence would have made her cry.
Today it made her smile.
When Dominic saw her, he forgot to breathe.
Marcus leaned toward him.
“Boss.”
Dominic didn't move.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“You're supposed to stand up straight.”
“I am standing.”
“You look like you're being arrested.”
Diana heard and laughed.
The ceremony was small.
Hospital friends.
People from Maria's House.
Alvarez.
Miguel.
Rachel.
Marcus.
Elena.
Dominic's legitimate business partners.
No press.
No spectacle.
The officiant asked for vows.
Dominic went first.
“I once promised your mother I would protect you and stay away.”
Diana's eyes filled.
“I kept the wrong half too well.”
People laughed softly.
Dominic continued.
“I won't promise that nothing bad will ever happen. I learned I don't control the world.”
He took her hands.
“I promise truth, even when it makes me look terrible. I promise to ask instead of decide. I promise to stay when staying is hard.”
Diana swallowed tears.
“And I promise never to alphabetize your spices without permission.”
She laughed.
“Important.”
Then Diana spoke.
“I spent years believing needing someone meant losing independence.”
She looked at him.
“You showed me that love can make room instead of taking it.”
Her voice shook.
“I don't need you to rescue me.”
Dominic nodded.
“I know.”
“I choose you anyway.”
That sentence mattered more than any other.
They exchanged rings.
Rook barked during the kiss.
Everyone laughed.
At dinner, Elena placed an empty chair near the family table.
On it rested photographs of Maria and Daniel.
Diana stared at them.
Not ghosts.
Guests.
Memories invited rather than feared.
Later Dominic found Diana alone near the photographs.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You miss them.”
“Yes.”
“So do I.”
She leaned against him.
“Maria would've bossed everyone around.”
“Absolutely.”
“My dad would've cried.”
“Definitely.”
“How do you know?”
“He cried at commercials.”
Diana laughed.
“Seriously?”
“Anything involving dogs.”
“Rook would've destroyed him.”
“Yes.”
They danced beneath the lights.
No expensive orchestra.
Just music from speakers.
Rachel drank champagne and eventually danced with Alvarez.
Marcus somehow became surrounded by nurses.
Miguel told embarrassing stories.
Elena cried openly.
Diana looked around.
“This is my family.”
Dominic held her closer.
“Yes.”
For years, family had meant blood and pain.
Then obligation.
Then fear.
Now it meant choice.
Six months after the wedding, Diana stood inside a hospital bathroom holding a pregnancy test.
Positive.
She stared.
Then took another.
Positive.
Then a third because nurses were terrible patients and worse at trusting home diagnostics.
Positive.
She sat down.
Joy.
Fear.
Disbelief.
Memories of Maria.
Everything arrived together.
Dominic was cooking when she returned home.
Actually attempting to cook.
Smoke filled the kitchen.
“What happened?”
“The pan betrayed me.”
Diana turned off the burner.
“You're banned.”
“Reasonable.”
She placed the tests on the counter.
Dominic looked.
Then looked again.
“Are those—”
“Yes.”
He went pale.
Diana became concerned.
“Dominic?”
“I'm fine.”
“You don't look fine.”
“I'm going to be someone's father.”
“Apparently.”
He sat.
Diana laughed nervously.
“Not the reaction I imagined.”
“No, I'm happy.”
“You look terrified.”
“I am.”
She sat beside him.
“So am I.”
Dominic stared at the tests.
“What if I'm terrible?”
“You will sometimes be terrible.”
He looked at her.
“So will I.”
“Comforting.”
“We'll learn.”
He touched her stomach, then stopped.
“May I?”
Diana smiled.
“Yes.”
His hand rested gently.
Tears filled his eyes.
“I want this child to know everything good.”
“Then we'll teach them.”
“And nothing I knew.”
Diana shook her head.
“Some things you knew were good.”
“Like?”
“Loyalty.”
“Yes.”
“Persistence.”
“Stubbornness.”
“Exactly.”
He smiled.
Rook entered.
Diana looked at him.
“You're getting demoted.”
Dominic frowned.
“Absolutely not.”
Months passed.
Pregnancy was not cinematic.
It was nausea.
Swollen feet.
Back pain.
Dominic reading parenting books like legal documents.
He installed a crib three months early.
Then reinstalled it because Diana pointed out he had reversed two pieces.
Rachel organized a baby shower.
Elena knitted blankets.
Miguel bought too many books.
Alvarez bought noise-canceling headphones for Dominic.
“What are these?”
“For survival.”
Then, one rainy evening in November, Diana's contractions began during dinner.
She looked at Dominic.
“I think it's time.”
He dropped a glass.
Rook barked.
Diana laughed despite pain.
“Calm down.”
“I am calm.”
“You shattered a glass.”
“Strategically.”
At the hospital, Diana became the world's least patient patient.
Dominic held her hand.
Eight hours later, their daughter arrived.
Healthy.
Loud.
Perfect.
Diana cried when they placed the baby against her chest.
Dominic stood beside the bed.
He looked completely overwhelmed.
“What do we call her?” he whispered.
They had debated names for months.
Now Diana knew.
“Maria.”
Dominic's eyes filled.
“Maria Elena Cross.”
Elena cried when told.
Diana looked at her daughter.
Tiny fingers.
Dark hair.
Furious little expression.
“She has your temper,” Dominic said.
“She is ten minutes old.”
“I can tell.”
Diana laughed.
The hospital room glowed with warm Christmas decorations.
Almost exactly one year and eleven months after another hospital room had changed their lives.
But this time Diana wasn't bruised.
Dominic wasn't bleeding.
Nobody was afraid.
Then the nurse entered.
“You have visitors.”
Rachel.
Elena.
Miguel.
Alvarez.
Marcus.
And Rook waiting outside because hospital policy remained stubbornly unreasonable in his opinion.
Diana looked at Dominic.
“We made it.”
He kissed her forehead.
“No.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“We're making it.”
Diana smiled.
He was right.
Happy endings were not destinations.
They were lives people chose again every morning.
May you like
Continued in Chapter 18…
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