Lara’s eyes fill again.
“You shouldn’t have had to disappear,” she whispers.
“No,” you say. “I shouldn’t have.”
She smiles then, a tired, beautiful smile stripped of bridal glamour and made better by sincerity.
“I love your son,” she says.
“I know.”
“And I love the woman who raised him.”
That nearly undoes you all over again.
You reach out and smooth a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way you once did for Marco when he was too young to sit still for grooming. It surprises you both. For a second, there is a tiny awkwardness. Then Lara leans into the gesture so naturally that the awkwardness dissolves.
“You’ll make a good life together,” you tell her.
“We’ll try.”
“That’s all anyone can do.”
When you return inside, Marco is waiting near the doors with his suit jacket off and his tie loosened, looking as if this day has stretched his heart to twice its original size. He sees you and Lara walking back in together and something peaceful settles over his face.
