Page 81
Story: The Pakhan's Sold Bride
She was buried in a little garden area away from the noise of the city. A place where I thought she could find some peace.
The parking area is a walk away from the gravesite, but I take it slowly, enjoying the sun on my face and the cool, fresh air of autumn as it brushes over my cheeks. I push my hands into my pockets and think about everything that’s been happening.
It’s like some unbelievable movie. A made-up story.
One minute I’m working, struggling to get by each day, focused and stressed. Next, I’m kidnapped, married, and living like a princess in a castle.
I grin as I arrive at the garden and push open an ornate iron gate.
There is a smooth rock at the foot of Mom’s grave, and I sit down on it, leaning forward to brush my hand over her headstone. A small, neatly carved stone with her name, years of life, and a quote I chose carved into it.
The light of a loved one’s smile will forever burn in the hearts of those left behind, even long after their death.
“Hi, Mom,” I whisper. “I really miss you.” My words are tight, and a tear rolls down my cheek. I brush it away with the back of my hand, smiling. “I’ve got a lot to tell you. So much has happened lately, that’s why I haven’t visited.”
In the afternoon sunshine, I talk to my mom about everything. I tell her about what happened with my dad, and how I’ve forgiven him and set boundaries—and I’m really proud of that. I tell her all about Nestor. How I hated him at first, butnow I’ve fallen for him. And about his mom and his sister. I tell her about how amazing his family is.
And finally, I tell her that I’m pregnant.
Wind whistles gently through the nearby trees in the long moment of silence that follows. I look up at the branches, swaying slowly.
“I wish you could tell me what to do,” I sigh.
More silence.
But in this silence, my lips curl into a smile and my heart warms.
I laugh, and the sound comes out joyful and relaxed.
“I knew you’d help me see things clearly,” I say.
Because suddenly I understand.
I have never been happier in my entire life.
I have never felt more welcome than I do now.
His family has embraced me, made me feel at home, as though I am one of them.
Nestor has been kind and more than generous, and he’s been respectful and caring.
For the first time ever, I feel like Imatter.Like I’m special to someone.
My poor mother wanted to give me that, but she was too weak. My father—he was too selfish.
But I have it now.
I have a family.
A family I will fight for and do anything to keep.
“Thank you, Mom,” I say excitedly as I stand up and pull my phone from my pocket.
As I walk back through the garden, enjoying nature and everything around me, I dial Nestor.
It rings once before he answers.
“Hello, little one, how are you feeling? Do you need me to come home?” he asks quickly.
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