All my youth had worn down in failed relationships: some betrayed me, some simply used me as a temporary stop in their lives. Every year my mother sighed with concern, until one day she spoke to me almost pleading:
“What if you marry Michael?” he said gently. He may have a hurt leg, but he’s a good man… and he really loves you.
Miguel was our neighbor for many years. He was five years older than me. His right leg was damaged after an accident when he was seventeen, so he was walking with a slight lameness.
He lived with his elderly mother in a small house in the neighborhood. He was a quiet, reserved man who worked repairing electronics from his home. The neighborhood people always said that Miguel had been in love with me for years, but he had never dared to say it.
I thought:
At 40… what’s the point of still waiting for someone perfect?
And so, on a gray and rainy afternoon, I just nodded.
Our wedding was simple.
There was no white dress, no fancy flowers, no special music. Just a few tables with homemade food, some close neighbors and family.
That same night, in our humble house, began what was supposed to be our wedding night.
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