The Hustle (Irreparable 4)

I can’t get a grip on the tears of joy that keep stealing my voice so I can tell him how much I love what he did for me.

“Maria will always be in my memories, but in my heart there’s only room for one love. That’s you. I wanted you to have a permanent reminder of how I feel.”

What was supposed to be me helping him move on, has essentially turned into providing me with something I needed more than I realized. Confir

mation of his love pulls at my heart. If there was ever a question of his commitment, it’s been answered. We’re one heart.

On a blissful summer afternoon, I stand under the oak tree where I proposed to Peyton, choking back tears as my angel appears behind Liv and Tori. The epitome of grace with her arm looped through her father’s, I can’t take my eyes off of her.

The thought she put into having the wedding here erased every doubt I ever had as to if she really knew me. She knows actually who I am. She knows me better than I know myself. I wouldn’t have thought to choose this spot, but there is nowhere else I would want to promise Peyton forever. All the kids I’ve grown to love like my own are able to be here with me, in a place that got me through the moment that robbed me of my own childhood.

Camilia walks in front of Javier, tossing rose petals to the ground and giggling. Javier plays it cool, but the focus in his posture shows his nerves as he balances the pillow with mine and Peyton’s rings.

I turn my head to the right and catch Brady looking at Tori as she walks the aisle behind Liv. There was a time I rode him hard about how that look made him a pussy, but now I understand how difficult it is to prevent. One glance at Peyton renders me stupid, and when The Bridal Chorus begins, those pesky tears burn my eyes.

It feels like an eternity for her to reach me, and in that solitude, I wait for doubt, for my conscious to try and plant some deep-rooted seed that I’m making a mistake. Nothing . . . nothing but adoration for this woman who loves and accepts me fills my heart and my thoughts. I exhale with the revelation that I’m finally free from the chains of guilt and blame.

I’ve finally chosen right.

Her father announces that he gives this woman to me, and I thank him, feeling the ache in my chest that she’s really mine.

While her parents conceded to us not marrying in the church, they insisted on traditional vows, despite Peyton’s protesting that she wanted us to write our own. I may have helped convince her it was okay because I could never put into words how I feel about her.

How do you explain to a woman how her confidence and fierce independence saved you? That her not needing me, is ultimately what relieved the pressure long enough for me to love her? Peyton never needed a knight in shining armor. She was . . . I can’t help but smile—okay.

Even when I broke her heart and I abandoned her, she was okay. I never defined her, and she didn’t need me to be happy, or for a better life or to save her. She simply wanted love and a partner to share her life with.

For some baffling reason, she chose me. By her being okay, the chaos was finally tamed, and I fell in love with a woman who will always be okay. That means I can’t fail her. Not because I’m not capable, but because you can’t ever disappoint a woman who won’t allow you to.

I tried many times. When she accepted who I was and the garbage left behind, I did everything in my power to force her to run, but she dug her heels in and refused to budge.

Her hand trembles as I slide the ring up her slim finger, promising to love her forever. It’s when she slides the ring up my finger and promises to love me that my hand begins to shake. The ring represents an outward reminder of our internal devotion, but my runaway emotions are a result of knowing she is now my wife. That she’ll share my love and my life and my family.

We’re one heart.

After we’re announced as husband and wife, we make our way up the aisle through a long line of friends and family, wanting to wish us well. Before I start, a firm hand presses on to my shoulder. I spin to see my big brother. He pulls me into a bear hug and lifts me off the ground. When he lets me go, he says, “I love you, kid.”

I let out a loud breath. I’m not going to cry. “Back at ya, old man.”

He tips his head back with a boisterous laugh. “The age gap is closing now, little brother. It’s all downhill from here.”

I know he’s joking but I shake my head. Peyton found me at rock bottom and took my hand. For me, life is all uphill from here.

The next face I see is Alejandro. He slides his hand into mine and offers a firm shake. I smile, pulling my hand away, but he keeps a firm hold. “This, young man, is what Maria would have wanted. She has peace. I’m proud of you.”

My eyes sting as I nod because if I speak, I won’t make it through the line. I hear giggling from Tori and Liv as they tell Peyton congratulations.

I thank Alejandro and move on to Guadalupe. She throws her arms around my neck. “Oh, Mijo. I’m so happy for you. Peyton is lovely.”

“Thank you.”

I hug Leti and Alex next and then move on to Rodrigo. He takes my hand, standing tall. After everything went down with my parents, he was the closest thing I had to a parent. He tried many times to talk to me, but I was too stubborn to listen.

“You’re a good man, son,” he says, pausing to take in a breath. “You’ve done a lot to help me at The Center, but you know I think of you as family, and I’m proud of you.”

I pull him in for a quick hug and thank him.

Tears leak from Tori’s eyes as she waits for me. I’ve loved this woman most of my life. For so long, I held onto regret and resentment for that love. Sick as it is, I once believed Tori sabotaged anything good in my life. I knew she loved me too, and I honestly thought she didn’t want me to be happy. Like she wanted me devoted to her in case Brady broke her heart. Yes, we share a dysfunctional love, but it was never meant to be a romantic love. She knew that long before I did. And if not for Tori, I’d still be lost. It was her who forced me and Peyton together.