Page 37 of Bittersweet
Without Constantine’s unwavering strength and love for his brother, we wouldn’t be here today.
The graduates stand for the final pronouncement, and Leo’s face turns toward our section once more. Athena waves her elephant frantically, and I watch Leo’s smile grow even brighter in response.
As the ceremony concludes and the air fills with the sound of cheering families, I remain standing, my eyes fixed on our son. Constantine pulls me close, and I feel his chest hitch with barely contained emotion. “We did it,” he whispers, his voice rough. “All of us, together.”
And he’s right. This isn’t just Leo’s achievement, though he’s certainly earned every moment of celebration. This is a victory for our whole family, for every person who believed in him, supported him, and loved him through the hard times. As the graduates begin to file out, I watch Leo’s black-robed figure merge with the crowd, knowing that this ending is really just another beginning.
“Everyone gather round,” I call out once Leo joins us, pulling the phone from my pocket. Years of managing crowd control at Bittersweet serve me well as I begin arranging our family forphotos. Leo stands in the center, his diploma held proudly in front of him. Constantine moves to his right, and I can see in my husband’s eyes the same overwhelming emotion I’m feeling—pride, joy, and love all mixed together into something almost too big to contain.
Athena darts between us, still clutching her elephant. “I want to stand next to Leo!” she insists, and Leo scoops her up with one arm, settling her on his hip. The gesture is so natural, so brotherly, that my throat tightens. Kay and her girlfriend position themselves on Leo’s other side, their hands clasped, faces glowing with shared happiness.
“One, two, three—smile!” I call out, but before I can press the shutter, Constantine steps forward. “Julius, get in here. I’ll take it.” I start to protest—I’m usually the one behind the camera—but he gives me that look that brooks no argument. A stranger might miss the tenderness in his stern expression, but I’ve learned to read every nuance of his face.
I join the group, sliding into place beside Leo. My son—and how miraculous it still feels to say those words—leans slightly into my side. He’s trembling, I realize, the way he used to during anxiety attacks, but this time it’s from happiness. I wrap my arm around his waist, below where Athena perches, and feel him steady against me.
Constantine adjusts the camera settings with practiced ease. “Ready?” he asks, and I watch him count silently, his lips moving in that endearing way they do when he’s concentrating. The camera clicks once, twice, three times.
“Now, one with silly faces!” Athena demands, and Leo immediately crosses his eyes, making her shriek with laughter. Kay sticks out her tongue, her girlfriend pretends to swoon, and I find myself pulling the most ridiculous expression I can manage. Constantine captures it all, his own laughter making the camera shake slightly.
“Let me take one with you in it,” Kay’s girlfriend offers, and Constantine hands over the camera after a brief tutorial. He moves to stand beside me, and just before the shutter clicks, he reaches over to adjust Leo’s cap, tilting it to a slightly better angle. The gesture is so characteristic of him—always attending to the small details, always making sure everything is just right.
Around us, other families are taking their own photos, their joy adding to the festive atmosphere. Balloons bob in the gentle breeze, and the college’s banner stretches proud and wide across the lawn. I hear snippets of laughter, congratulations, and plans for the future. The air is thick with possibility.
“Look at what we’ve built right here,” Constantine says softly, his words meant only for me.
I follow his gaze across our little group—Leo, still holding Athena, his posture relaxed and confident in a way I never thought I’d see during those early days. Athena, secure in her brother’s arms, completely at home in this family we’ve pieced together through choice and chance and endless determination.
“We did build this,” I agree, my voice rough with emotion. “All of us, together.”
Constantine’s hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining with the ease of long practice. Around us, the celebration continues—handshakes and hugs, promises to keep in touch, plans for dinner and parties and future gatherings.
Constantine leans into my side, and I feel his soft exhalation against my neck.
“Ready for whatever comes next?” he murmurs, and I nod.
“Ready,” I answer, and I mean it. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together, just as we’ve faced everything else. The camera hangs forgotten in my hands as I stand with my family, surrounded by love, pride, and the endless possibilities of tomorrow.