The Man I Swore to Hate
Just love, and silence, and the scent of fresh lilies wilting in my hands.
“Do you, Carmenta, take this man—Romero Mastrandrea—to be your lawful husband?” the judge asked.
“I do,” I said clearly, my voice stronger than I expected.
“And do you, Romero—”
“I do,” he interrupted, smiling down at me. “A thousand times, I do.”
It made everyone laugh softly. And then we were kissing, quietly, under flickering fluorescent lights. I never thought a moment so simple could feel so sacred. After the signing, after the laughter and hugs and simple pancit lunch, I found myself back at the nursing home.
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