Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(68)

I smile. Indeed, I’ve developed a love affair with retro fit-and-flare dresses. They accentuate my waist, aren’t too revealing, and are long enough for my taste. I’m wearing a light and dark sky-blue chiffon dress with tulle underneath. I like how the colors match my blue eyes. A hairstylist even did a chignon in my hair.

“Thank you, Luiz. You look great too.”

I greet Miguel and Claudia and am introduced to Norberto and his girlfriend—which are both also in their early twenties.

All of a sudden, we hear the sound of a sports car engine approaching.

Ugh. Not surprisingly, it’s the gorgeous Rafaela and Alexander in a dark-gray Maserati. What a pathetic show-off, I think, shaking my head.

They get out of the car, Alex hands the key to the valet, and then buttons his black jacket. Damn. He looks hot as hell, wearing a satin-lapel black tux—just like when I saw him at my father’s fifty-fifth birthday. I can’t help but smile. He notices and smiles back.

Rafaela looks just as gorgeous wearing a red silk gown with some lace floral motifs on the sides. I realize how busty she is. Her breasts look so firm and round, I wonder if they’re natural or not. “Rafaela, you’re strikingly beautiful!”

“Oh, Petra. Look who’s talking. You look like an angel!”

“You look just as divine,” I reply, climbing the stairs with them to the entrance of the palazzo where the wedding will be held.

We are welcomed into a sumptuous patio—the main area of the wedding. But we don’t go there. Instead, we cross the corridor and enter into a ballroom where the religious ceremony will be held.

The room with high ceilings and chandeliers is also immersed in white tones and flowers. A long dark-blue carpet down the aisle leads to the altar at the end. I am seated beside Luiz and his brother.

The pastor is already standing in front, along with the groomsmen and bridesmaids. The religious ceremony is intimate, with no more than family, close friends, and relatives in attendance. A maximum of a hundred guests now wait for Paulo and Anabela to arrive. The other two hundred guests are expected only afterward.

The first processional song is a melodic solo piano. Everyone stands up at the opening of the doors. We catch sight of Paulo, looking sharp and radiant in a black tux. To my surprise, he’s escorted by his mother; arm in arm they walk together down the aisle. Everyone claps and cheers at the sight of them. He waves to the crowd, visibly emotional. I can’t help but smile. He stands next to the alter and waits nervously, staring at the entrance for Anabela, like the rest of us.

After a couple of impatient minutes, a few young girls and boys appear, spreading white petals on the floor while a new piano melody plays.

Wow. Finally, catching everyone’s breath, the wonderful Anabela emerges like an angel. I love her custom-made Dior off-the-shoulder lace gown and the white bouquet she’s holding.

Paulo’s eyes twinkle at the sight of his future wife walking slowly down the aisle, her father by her side. Looking around at everyone’s astonished faces, I better understand what Dad meant yesterday at the beach. Indeed, the couple in front of me are a powerful proof of love and commitment, no matter the age difference.

My eyes dart unintentionally at Alex. A smile on his face, he’s looking intently at Anabela and Paulo, now standing together in front of the altar.

The pastor asks us to sit, and the religious ceremony begins.

“I’d like to start by saying to everyone: do not delay happiness.” I raise an eyebrow at the pastor’s speech. “Some people think happiness is only attainable once they achieve something, like a promotion, a better job, a house, kids… but no. Happiness doesn’t happen because of achievements. Happiness is built and lived every single day of our lives when we are with the ones we love and cherish. So don’t be afraid to love, my dear friends. And do not be afraid to be happy.”

I didn’t expect the words of the pastor to be so deep and to resonate so much with me, and apparently with the rest of the guests.

I look around at the very muted crowd. Claudia’s drying her tears, while Miguel’s holding her hand tightly. I smile, letting out a sigh. Deep inside, I wish Alex were sitting beside me and doing the same.





After the ceremony and a very long dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Marques finally reach the dance floor to have their very first dance to the beautiful song “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis Presley. They walk excitedly together hand in hand to the patio. We follow closely behind, surrounding them.

The newlyweds start slowly swaying together and singing the lyrics to each other. Everyone keeps staring with eyes full of spark and emotion. I love this song, a true classic. They couldn’t have chosen better. I’m in the front of the line watching them and instinctively smile—Alex is standing right behind me. I can recognize his scent from miles away.

“Do you believe in this?” I ask.

“In what?” He bends down slightly to get closer to my face.

“This, like marriage and stuff…” I reply, looking at the couple.

Alex wasn’t expecting such a question; he looks again at Paulo and Anabela, pondering for a while. “Don’t let the divorce of your parents prevent you from believing in it.”

But his answer doesn’t satisfy me. After all, he didn’t really answer my question. “What about you, then? Why didn’t you marry Amanda? You were together ten years.”