Page 121 of Not For Keeps
In the middle of wedding madness, we also finalized Mateo adoptingMaya.
To no one’s surprise, Nico didn’t even put up a fight. I don’t know if that makes me feel sad or relieved. There’s a part of me that still grieves the version of him I once hoped he’d become. But when the papers came through and Mateo held them in his hands, I knew—without a doubt—we were exactly where we were meant to be.
Mateo is over the moon. And today…today I get to marry him. Today I get to become Analyse Rodriguez.
The dress fits perfectly. Creamy white, off the shoulder, with little lace details that Mariana insisted on adding “because you deserve to feel like a princesa.” My hair is curled and pinned loosely, a few strands framing my face. There’s a single white daisy tucked behind my ear—a nod to the dress I wore the first time Mateo ever saw me.
I smooth my hands down the front of my dress, nerves and joy tangled together in a knot somewhere beneath my ribs.
Anna pokes her head into the room. “Are you ready, bride?”
I look and smile, eyes already glassy. “As I’ll ever be.”
She steps inside and holds out a small envelope. “This is from Mateo. He said to read it before you walked down the aisle.”
My heart does a full somersault as I take it. The envelope is simple. No name, just a little heart drawn in the corner with a Sharpie. Very him.
Inside is a note, scrawled in his blocky, slightly tilted handwriting:
You once told me you weren’t sure if forever was meant for you.
Today is the first day of our forever. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.
I’ll carry your heart in every step, in every breath.
See you at the altar, chula. Te quiero mucho.
—M
I press the paper to my heart and let out a breath that shakes loose every last nerve. This is real. It’s happening.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s do this.”
The hum of music floats through our backyard, soft and golden like the fairy lights strung from the trees. It’s warm tonight. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in warm amber and gold. It feels like magic.
Laughter ripples through the air, mingling with the faint clinking of glasses and the smell of fresh florals and food.
I stand just out of sight, heart thudding in my chest, fingers curled loosely around my bouquet. Through the fluttering white curtain draped over the archway, I catch a glimpse of Mateo—he’s wearing a dark navy suit, pacing in place near the altar with a nervous smile on his face.
People are already seated, Mari is handing Maya her basket of rose petals, and the soft melody of “Moon River” is playing on a speaker nearby. And then the music changes. The soft strum of a Spanish guitar blends with the first chords of a ballad version of “Tu Amor Me Hace Bien,” and I know—it’s time.
The doors open.
Maya goes first, her little white dress sparkling with every step. She throws petals to the ground, pausing halfway to wave dramatically at the crowd. Everyone laughs.
And then it’s just me.
Mateo is standing under the arch, hands folded, eyes locked on mine like the rest of the world has disappeared. I feel it instantly—the grounding weight of his gaze, the love that pulses steady and deep between us. Every step I take feels like a vow in itself. Like a promise I’ve already been living.
When I finally reach him, he takes my hand, brings it to his lips, and whispers, “Hi.”
“Hi,” I breathe back.
His hands tremble slightly as they hold mine, and I realize he’s just as wrecked as I am. Hilda officiates—somehow managing to sound both gracious and slightly inappropriate, which makes the whole crowd laugh at least twice. But when she talks about love, real lasting love, she goes soft.
“I’ve known Analyse since she was just a girl,” she says, glancing at me, eyes glistening. “And I’ve never seen her like this. I’ve never seen her lit up from the inside out.”
My eyes sting.
