When Betrayed, I Married the Best Man novel · Chapter 1 of 12
Chapter 1: The Best Man
Adalberto arrived at our wedding two hours late.
I was waiting in the vestry of San Francisco Church.
I wore an ivory dress, my grandmother's lace veil, and my hands were ice-cold.
The guests had been murmuring for ninety minutes.
The orchestra had played the same piece four times.
My mother dried my tears twice with a handkerchief.
"He's coming," she said. "Something must have happened on the way."
At twelve-fifteen, the sound of a car pulling up in front of the church silenced everyone.
The doors of the temple swung open.
Adalberto walked in.
Wearing a dark gray jacket, matching pants, a silver tie, and a white flower on his lapel.
It was the best man's suit.
The groom's—a black tailcoat with a silk vest—he'd left crumpled on the sofa at his house.
I saw him from a distance, through the crack in the vestry door.
And I saw who he had on his arm.
A slender woman with short chestnut hair, green eyes, and a light blue dress.
Gabriela Aponte.
His first love.
She'd walked out of his life eight years ago.
Three months ago, she'd crashed her car on the Sacaba highway and woken up with no memory of those eight years.
We'd seen her at the hospital.
The doctors had gathered us all in a room.
"Retrograde amnesia," the specialist said. "She thinks she's twenty-four and that her partner is Adalberto. We mustn't shock her."
"Any painful information could set back her recovery."
So we hid all the bad stuff from her.
That they'd split up eight years ago.
That he'd been engaged to me for three years.
That today he was getting married.
Adalberto approached the vestry, Gabriela on his arm, smiling at her with a sweetness I'd forgotten he had.
He saw me.
He left Gabriela with a cousin and came over to me.
He took me by the shoulders.
"Vero," he said, low. "My love. Forgive me."
"Where were you?"
"With her. I wanted to bring her. I was afraid to leave her alone."
"In the best man's suit."
"It's just that Gabriela thinks..." He took a breath. "If she sees me dressed as the groom, she'll panic. She thinks we're together."
"But we are together, Adalberto. She thinks you two are a couple."
"Exactly."
I looked at him.
"And your groom's suit?"
"I left it at home."
My throat went dry.
"Think carefully about what you're going to say," he warned me, suddenly alert. "Be generous, Vero. Don't make me hate you."
That sentence hit me harder than everything else.
Be generous.
As if the wedding were a cake.
As if the eight months of planning, the invitations, the flowers, the guests were a favor I could just give away.
I smiled.
The kind of smile that hurts your cheeks.
"And the ceremony?"
"The ceremony goes on. But..." He paused. "Fabricio will be the groom. It's just symbolic. A performance so Gabriela doesn't get scared."
"Then, next month, we'll sign quietly."
"With Fabricio as the groom?"
"Just today. He's my best friend. He's the best man."
I stood still.
"Vero," Adalberto said, hugging me tenderly. "Can you understand me?"
He kissed me lightly on the cheek.
I smelled his usual cologne.
I thought: now.
I thought: now or never.
I pulled away.
"It's fine," I said.
He smiled, with a childlike relief.
He walked off with Gabriela toward the front row.
At the altar, the best man was waiting, hands clasped in front of him.
Fabricio Lemus, thirty-six, a neurologist, my fiancé's best friend since school.
Tall, slim, with black hair graying at the temples and thin-rimmed glasses.
He was looking at me with an expression I couldn't decipher.
My father offered me his arm.
"Sweetheart," he murmured. "You don't have to do this."
"I know."
"Then?"
"This time, I'm not doing it for him."
I walked to the altar.
He let go of my arm on the last step.
Fabricio extended his hand.
I took it.
It was warm and firm, with long fingers.
"Veronica," he said in a low voice, without moving his lips. "The judge is the real one. If you sign, it's legal."
"I know."
"You can stop right now."
"I don't want to stop."
He looked at me for a second.
Then he nodded, with a calm that ran down my spine.
The ceremony began.
The priest spoke of love, patience, promises.
I barely listened.
When it came time for the questions, Fabricio answered in a grave voice, without hesitating.
"Yes, I do."
And then it was my turn.
In the front row, Adalberto was smiling at me.
Gabriela, beside him, was clapping with tears in her eyes.
I took a deep breath.
"Yes," I said. "I do."
I signed the register the judge held out to me.
With my full name, in my usual handwriting, without trembling.
Fabricio signed after me.
The judge stamped the book.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," he said.
In the front row, Adalberto was clapping, convinced it was all an act.
He hadn't realized he'd just lost me.
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