the altar, accepting the hand I offer. From there, the ceremony seems to go by in the blink of an eye. Elena is calm and steady, her voice clear when she says her vows, her hands steady as she accepts the ring I slip on her finger. At the sight of the massive, princess-cut solitaire I chose for her, her eyes go wide and she looks at me in disbelief. I give her a little smile while she slips on my plain gold band, then wink. I know she wasn’t expecting such a ring, but I was motivated by a need to give Elena what I can. When I took her, it wasn’t with plans to keep her forever. Life with me wasn’t something she wanted, but I can make sure it’s comfortable for her—maybe even enjoyable.
With a kiss and the resulting communion, the deed is done. Elena is my wife.
We smile while facing our guests, who applaud as if having watched an elaborate stage play. In reality that’s exactly what they’ve witnessed.
Elena and I spend the rest of the day making our encore performance. There’s very little time for a break before we have to greet our guests in the ballroom; no time for me and Elena to be alone. We go on performing through the reception, raising our glasses for toasts, making small talk with our guests, and hitting the dance floor.
During our first dance, I lean in close to her ear. “You’re holding up well, gatita.”
She scoffs a dry laugh. “I’m wearing flats. If I was going to have to spend my day in petticoats, I was not going to force myself into heels.”
“Smart girl,” I murmur, pressing my lips to the side of her neck. She shivers, her hand tightening on my arm as I twirl her around the floor. “Are you going to let me help you out of those petticoats tonight?”
Tension starts winding through her like a spring, and that familiar heat flares between us. She turns her head to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “Only if, after you’re done, you get down on your knees and kiss my ass.”
With a chuckle, I nuzzle my nose against hers. “I’d do more than kiss it if given half the chance.”
She’s not so full of sarcasm now, her mouth falling open as she stares back at me. I stroke my fingertips down her spine, tracing what seems like an endless row of white buttons.
“You wouldn’t have to let me inside you if you don’t want. I won’t press the issue. But it’s your wedding day, and the bride deserves to be treasured. Let me treasure you, gatita … with my hands … my mouth …”
Elena’s breath hitches and she grows heavier in my arms, as if her knees have gone weak. “Goddamn you, Diego,” she hisses, her breath warm against my ear.
I’m shaking with laughter now, struggling to keep the timing of the music. “The offer stands, dear wife. All you have to do is say yes.”
The rest of the day seems to drag by, when all I can think about is getting Elena alone—getting my wife alone. Everyone wants to talk to the bride, dance with the bride, make toasts in her honor. I hold my jealous instincts at bay, knowing I’ll have all the time in the world with her after this day. My patience wears thinner by the minute, but I manage to wait until enough time as passed that it wouldn’t be rude for us to make our escape.
Elena looks anxious when I offer her my arm, but she lets me lead her from the ballroom. Her veil was removed hours ago, but her train rustles on the stairs. She still looks as perfect as she did this morning despite all the dancing, eating, and drinking.
Once we’re in our bedroom, I pace away from her and start loosening my tie. I need some distance between us until Elena indicates she wants that to change. I won’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. As I shrug out of my jacket, then sit on my side of the bed with my back to Elena, I can’t hear any movement. It doesn’t sound like she’s undressing or even sitting down after hours on her feet. My entire body is wound tight, so many urges pulling me in opposite directions I don’t know which to act on. I want to kiss her senseless. I want to tear her out of that