"So when are we going to my parents' place for that dinner?"
I turned to him after applying my makeup for the banquet.
"Well, it's been canceled, so I guess you'll meet them at the banquet."
"Sure."
I think I heard something like, "and you'll like my surprise."
I noticed he was still in the room. I walked to him in my robe whilst I sacked him out of the room.
I stared at the woman in the mirror. Today is going to mark the day my life is gonna change.
The dress fitted me perfectly like a gown. He was to call some stylist, but I told him, "I'll do it on my own."
---
"You are nervous," Zavid asked Celeste when he noticed she was fidgeting.
"No, am not."
He shook his head.
"Don't worry, you'll do well."
When the car stopped by the red carpet, I felt really nervous.
"Hey."
She turned to him.
"Zavid, I can't go out there, erm, what if I fall?"
"Then I'll catch you."
"Now isn't the time for your cheesy lines."
Then he laughed.
"You'll do well."
As the car came to a halt, Zavid stepped out, exuding confidence and charm. The crowd of onlookers, dazzled by his presence, didn't understand why he extended his hand and kept the door open. It was unusual, almost peculiar, until Celeste placed her delicate hand in his. With his support, she gracefully stepped out.
The moment she emerged from the car, a wave of gasps rippled through the crowd. Everyone was stunned, captivated by her ethereal beauty and the soft innocence that radiated from her face. The paparazzi, momentarily frozen, snapped back to reality and hurriedly started taking pictures. The flashes of their cameras lit up the evening like fireworks, but Celeste remained poised, her hand still in Zavid's.
As the couple began their walk toward the banquet, the murmurs in the crowd grew louder. Whispers filled the air, a mix of awe and curiosity. Someone from the crowd, bolder than the rest, called out:
"Mr. Costa, who is this woman to you?"
Celeste felt her heart skip a beat. She wasn't sure if Zavid would answer. Would he brush it off, keep her identity a secret? But she didn't have to wonder for long. Without hesitation, he turned to the reporter, his voice firm but warm.
"She is my wife, Mrs. Costa."
The words hung in the air, silencing the crowd. Celeste felt a surge of pride and nervousness as Zavid's declaration echoed in her mind. They continued their journey into the banquet hall, hand in hand, as a sea of eyes followed their every move.
Inside, the atmosphere was equally overwhelming. The room was filled with influential people, their gazes sharp and assessing. Celeste, feeling slightly out of place, took a sip of her champagne to calm her nerves as she spoke to Zavid.
"Your mom is such a nice woman," she said earnestly, her voice soft but sincere.
Zavid chuckled lightly.
"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Celeste replied quickly. "I'm not lying, but… I think your sister doesn't like me," she added, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"You mean Zena?" Zavid said, his tone nonchalant. "She doesn't like a lot of people," he added with a small smile.
"Sure," Celeste replied, trying to hide her unease.
As they moved through the room, they continued chatting casually. They greeted countless individuals, many of them powerful and influential figures. Yet, despite the introductions and handshakes, Celeste found herself unable to remember most of their names. The evening felt like a whirlwind, but her focus remained on Zavid, the man who had stood by her side through it all.
The banquet hall was alive with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. Celeste moved through the crowd with practiced grace, greeting faces she didn't quite recognize but pretending she did. The names of the influential people she met blurred together, and she struggled to recall any of them. Her mind was beginning to drift when a voice pierced through the noise, startling her.
"Aunt Celeste!"
For a moment, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Was someone calling her? Surely, she must have misheard.
"Aunt Celeste!"
This time, the voice was unmistakable, clear and urgent. She turned her head sharply toward the sound, her heart skipping a beat. To her surprise, it was Alberto, running toward her with a broad smile on his face.
"Al!" she gasped, her voice filled with both shock and delight. "What are you doing here?" she asked, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his face as he came to a stop in front of her.
The people around them turned, their eyes locking onto Alberto. For a moment, the festive atmosphere seemed to shift. Celeste noticed the way their expressions changed. It wasn't just curiosity—it was fear, creeping into their features and settling there as they stared at the boy.
Celeste felt a twinge of unease. Despite the joy of seeing Alberto, something about the crowd's reaction was unsettling.
She looked around, scanning the room, and her eyes landed on a group of familiar faces. Standing not too far away were Aunt Zoe, Penelope, and her father. Before she could process what was happening, Alberto grabbed her hand and began tugging her toward them.
"Aunt Zoe," she greeted, her voice soft and unsure.
The older woman gave a low hum, her lips pressed into a thin line. Celeste could tell she was upset.
Gently, Celeste reached out and took Zoe's hands in her own.
"I'm sorry I didn't call," she said earnestly. "And… for making you worried."
For a moment, Zoe's face remained stern, her gaze heavy on Celeste. But then, slowly, her expression softened. A small smile crept onto her lips as she pulled Celeste into a warm embrace.
"Don't worry," Zoe said softly, her voice forgiving. "I forgive you."
Celeste felt a wave of relief wash over her, but before she could respond, another voice rang out—a voice she hadn't heard in years.
"Grandma," Alberto said, his tone filled with love and longing.
Celeste froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned her head toward the source of the voice, her breath catching as memories flooded back.
" Don't hug Aunt Celeste again, she's mine."
Alberto's voiced came out possessively as he stared at his grandma holding her hand.
How are they here she wondered.