“That woman has you under a spell,” my aunt said.
“What you want is a mom, not a wife,” my cousin spat.
“He’s going to use you and then throw you away,” my father said, hurt.
But I held on. I fought for her. I defended her in front of everyone. And even though the whole town labeled me as ambitious, crazy, or a freeloader, I didn’t back down.
The wedding was at a former hacienda , lit with candles, decorated with white, and featuring musicians playing as if it were a party for powerful people. There were too many men dressed in black, too many radios in their ears, too much security for a simple wedding. I noticed it, yes. But I was so blinded by what I felt that I decided not to ask.
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