Love Takes Your Breath Away

by Caleigh Hernandez

As always, Diego ends the kiss too soon and I’m being placed back in my seat.

  “Now that that’s over,” drolls Sebastian with a roll of his eyes, “my turn.”

  Diego whispers into my ear, “By all means, princess.”

  His jab at Baz’s expense rips a burst of laughter from my chest. Quickly, I snap my hand to my mouth. Sebastian glares at us. I remove my hand and mouth to him, Sorry.

  “Diego and I met when we were kids, as you all know. We grew up together. We fought. We laughed. He cried. I was too tough.” There’s a little bit of truth to this. Sebastian was always getting into fights. “We held each other up when life kicked the other down and we never gave up on each other. We’re brothers,” he shrugs. “We’ve never thought otherwise.

  “In fact, after Diego met Izzy on myyyyyy date with her,” drawing out his claim of possession, “he couldn’t stop talking about her. I found the brotherly thing to do was, let him have her.”

  Now, Diego is the one glaring. I shake with a silent chuckle. Yup. Brothers.

  “At least that’s my story,” he claims. He pauses for dramatic effect, “And I’m sticking to it.”

  Gotta love Baz. He continues on about some of their antics as children and teenagers. From their stories, it would seem like they were in trouble more often than not. Knowing Baz, he was probably the cause ninety-nine percent of the time.

  “When I met Izzy, it was the beginning of the end and the start of something new. Izzy, we were fast friends and my hotness had you dying to get under me.”

  There’s the glare from Diego again. I just shake my head.

  He continues, “Okay, so maybe not under me, but you did ask me out.”

  Mazzy mumbles next to me, “It was always going to be the first and the last.”

  “But that date with you changed my world. It wasn’t all at once and it certainly wasn’t that simple, but spending that time getting to know you and your story, I knew that it was time to stop denying my own story. Thanks for helping me be me.” I can’t control the tears; neither can Sebastian. As I look around the room, many faces are streaked with the emotions of Sebastian’s words.

  “Thank you for being my twisted sister and best friend. Thanks for making me the hottest single guy, then and now.”

  The man has no modesty.

  “And Izzy, thanks for giving my best friend, my brother a chance.”

  “Diego, thanks for being the man you are. The one that loves me no matter whom I love. Thanks for including me in this special time in yours and Izzy’s life.

  “To you both, I’ve never been happier watching two people get tied down. If there’s a couple that can make forever work, it’s you two. Just remember, in any marriage there are two people, two minds, two personalities…the one that’s always right and the husband.”

  “To Izzy and Diego, congratulations.”

  Another round of clinking glasses and being swept off my feet by Diego ensues. Except this time, rather than placing me back in my seat, Diego sets me on my feet and Baz hands me the mic.

  My face screws up recalling Mazzy suggestion to picture our guests naked.

  “It’s not that bad,” whispers Diego, shaking me from the unappealing thought.

  “You can’t see what I see,” I mumble inaudibly with a shake of my head.

  “So, it’s my turn,” I start on a sigh.

  “First, let me thank you. Thank you all for being here. And second…HOLY SHIT! How did all of you keep this a secret?” My exclamation is met with hearty laughter.

  “Of course, I think this answers any lingering question I may have had about some of you avoiding me,” I chuckle. “It makes complete sense, now.

  “Most of you know, I am not one for the limelight, but I suppose it’s unavoidable when you’re the bride. So, I’ll start with a story.

  “Growing up, I had the best life. I wanted for nothing and all my needs were met. Mom would play dress up with me. Dressing me in my Nana’s wedding dress and talking to me about my future Prince Charming.

  “Of course, no one could hold a candle to my stand-in, my daddy. It was completely inconceivable at my ripe old age of six, that I’d love any other man more than him,” the memory squeezes my heart

  “Each time we’d play dress up in my Nana’s wedding dress, daddy would sing to me Nat King Cole’s Unforgettable; Mom would bestow upon me words of love and wisdom.

  “When I was older, she’d said, ‘Love is only the beginning of your happily ever after. You have to work for the rest. Find the man that wants to work with you.’”

  Looking up to the heavens, and back down at Diego, “I found him, mom.”

  I hear Mazzy sniffling at my side, as I struggle to continue.

  “To Mazzy and Bazzy,” Sebastian is half scowling at my rhyming their nicknames. “There will never be enough words for you two. Every day that I’m blessed with your friendship and love is another day I consider myself lucky. Oh, and you’re both lucky this was a good surprise, otherwise, I’d have some stories of my own to tell.

  “Diego, my amazing husband,” God I love saying that. “Every day you never cease to amaze me with just how much you love me. And this,” gesturing to the room, its decoration and occupants. My voice is stuck in my throat, choked by the sobs threatening to break free. “This, so much, so much.”

  Before I can throw my face into my hands, Diego has rid me of the mic and cocooned me in his large frame. The power and strength of his love, tangible in his embrace. Without fail, there’s this charge between us.

  I don’t know how long he holds me like this. Just being in his arms shuts the rest of the world out and time is irrelevant.

  With a sweet kiss to my temple, he situates me in my chair and prepares to give his speech.

  “Izzy this was a no brainer. Nothing makes me happier than taking your breath away,” he delivers with a wink.

  “Thank you all for being here and by keeping it a secret. The worth is in the smile on my blushing bride’s face. Mazzy and Sebastian,” he addresses our best friends, “without you tonight would not have been possible. I know you know this, but I love you, especially for loving Izzy enough to lie to her.

  “Izzy, I’m sorry that our story was written without your mom and dad. I’m ninety-five percent certain that I’d have eventually charmed my way into their hearts. However, I feel like I know them. Through you. They must have been amazing to have raised a woman as bold and brave, intelligent and beautiful as you.”

  His words reaching the darkest parts of my slightly heavy heart and filling them with the music I’d lost the day my parents died.

  “Izzy, you are the reason my heart beats. You are the music.” He raises his hand to me. When I move to give him mine, he closes the distance and grabs me, pulling me to my feet.

  He’s guiding me to the dance floor. That’s when I recognize the song the deejay is now playing in the background. Celine Dion and Peebo Bryson crooning out Beauty and the Beast.

  “With you, I am a better man. Together we’re the Beauty and the Saint.”

  There’s that collective, ahhhh when our guests recognize the song and make the connection to his words.

  Placing the mic on the nearest table, he spins me around the floor. Those couple of years of dance lessons paying off as Diego gives me the princess fairytale of twirling at a ball with a prince. A beast. A saint.

  The rest of the night was filled with good friends, a fucking to-die-for burnt almond cake, champagne and more champagne, dancing, karaoke, and memories to last several lifetimes. Thoroughly spent and ready for some alone time, we call it a night.

  “One more thing, okay?” Diego leans in with a quick peck. He’s pulling us to the deejay’s table.

  “Soooo,” he draws out getting our guests’ attention. “Izzy and I are going to call it night, but before we do, I have some news I’d like to share with you all.

  “We’re moving to London,” he declares nonchalantly.

  My eyes flash to his. What th
e fuck? “Did I forget to mention that this afternoon?” he asks. Amusement pulling at the corners of his eyes, his dimple deepening with my stunned silence.

  “Ladies and gentleman, for the first time ever, I give you the speechless Izzy.” The room erupts in a roar of laughter.

  My shocked gaze turns to a glare. He’s right. When am I ever without words?

  “As you all know, I decided to ‘take the year off.’ Truthfully, that wasn’t exactly the truth.” Diego chuckles. “For months, there have been discussions about me playing for another league…overseas. Izzy and I,” he squeezes my hand with the mention of my name, “were really hoping for England.”

  Looking back down at me, “I got the call this afternoon just before you caused a commotion poolside.” A mention of poolside and the lift of his eyebrow has my face blushing with the memory of all we did poolside. “And I got the text from my agent, confirming their intent to make me an offer about twenty minutes ago.”

  “I’m excited for this opportunity and even more excited to be taking this next adventure with my wife.”

  Much like when we arrived, we’re crowded with the congratulatory hugs and kisses as we make our way to the double doors.

  Chapter Five

  It’s So Hard

  We’ve taken the last few weeks or so to organize, declutter, and pack up our place in La Jolla. It’s been a bit bittersweet boxing up my life here.

  I remember when mom and dad were looking into getting a bigger place. When we found this place.

  They went out of their way to include me in the decision-making. I was a teenager and this oddball getting ready to start high school. I’d been having some issues with my health and our family history came up during one of my doctor’s appointments. That’s when they informed me that Alex, my dad, was not my biological father. Talk about a “holy shit” moment.

  I knew in my heart it didn’t change anything. I knew it. But in my head, I felt like I’d lost a part of me. Mom tried to explain to me why this wasn’t brought up sooner, but I couldn’t see it. She’d lied to me my whole life!

  After a few days of giving me my space, dad (I couldn’t call him Alex) had had enough. He sat me down and said his peace.

  “Izzy?” I remember looking up at him hovering uncertainly in my doorway.

  I didn’t respond or invite him in, but he came in and sat next to me.

  “Baby, I know that what your mom and I told you made you feel sad, but what does it change?”

  He waited for a response, but I didn’t have the words.

  “Izzy, can I tell you a story?”

  “If I say no, are you going to tell me anyway?” I was a shithead to him that day. I’d never been so a day in my life before then.

  “Izzy Pop,” he pleaded, using his nickname for me. “Please?”

  I’m sure I shrugged him my answer.

  “When I fell in love with your mother, you were barely more than a blip on the monitor. She loved you so much already that your existence was her first answer to my asking her out. I’m sure she thought she’d scare me off, but your mom…she had this light about her that made me want to get to know her more. You have that same light.

  “Four months later you were born and the day after, I asked your mom two things.”

  I remember him piquing my interest with the word two. I’d heard part of this story before…this was how he proposed to mom.

  “The first thing I asked, as you’re already aware of, was if she’d be my wife. The next thing was an even bigger one. I asked your mom to list me as your father on the birth certificate. The day you were born, you were mine.

  “I’d never considered kids before I met your mother, but my time with her as you grew in her belly changed me. And the moment you took your first breath, took my breath away. In that moment, it didn’t matter that we didn’t share the same DNA; I knew that I would give my last breath if it meant you’d never have to experience hurt or pain or a broken heart.

  “In that moment, I saw your life in my hands and I wanted to give you the world and everything in it. I pictured twirling you around in your wedding gown on your wedding day.

  “I’m sorry that we lied, Izzy. But that was a truth we’d forgotten about, because neither your mother nor I considered you anything less than my daughter.

  “I’ve watched you grow, stumble, fall, and pick yourself back up. You’re on your way to being an amazing woman, and I’m so proud to call you my daughter. Please don’t punish your mother or yourself.

  “We did the best we could; obviously made some mistakes, but we had the greatest intentions.”

  “I know, dad,” I sniffled. I choke on each of my words. My sobs getting the better of what I want to say, “But…now…it’s like…there’s…a part…of me…I don’t know.”

  When I’d looked up into my dad’s eyes, I remember being shocked. That was the first time I’d seen my daddy crying.

  “Izabella Zoe, the man that left your mother pregnant with you isn’t who you are. You are my baby, my daughter. You are the young woman destined to take the world by storm no matter what you do, because knowing who you are isn’t about who provided your genetic makeup, it’s about knowing what – who, is in your heart.

  “Tell me something, Izzy. Who’s in your heart?”

  “You. Mom,” I’d answered.

  “Well then, that settles it, right?” he’d questioned with a squeeze of my shoulders.

  A small, sad smile creeps up on my face at the next memory.

  “Not quite,” I’d said. “Can you sing me our song?”

  Like every time before, he obliged. “Don’t worry about a thing, ‘cause every little thing…”

  When he was done, we’d found my mom lying out by the pool, wrapped up in the latest Danielle Steel book. They told me about their plans to buy a new house. Asked me about what I wanted. Of course, like any teenage girl I’d said a big closet and my own bathroom. Mom wanted something on the beach and I didn’t object.

  A few weeks later, we were moving into this palatial two-story beach house fit with five bedrooms and five private bathrooms. The front with its stonework and lattice entrance combined with the solid wood garage door over simplified the grandeur of our new home. Until you were inside the house, it looked like a single-story beach home. Once inside the gates, you were greeted through the windows of the front out through the windows on the back of the house with a breathtaking view of the beautiful Pacific Ocean off the coast of San Diego. Tucked inside, and below the main level of the house, were the indoor and outdoor living areas that made up the second story.

  I won’t sell the house. We picked it out together. The three of us. This is where Diego and I will raise our kids, where we can grow old, and retire.

  “Hey, babe,” Diego startles me from my thoughts.

  “What’s up, stud?” my voice squeaking out my response. I look up at him.

  When his expression changes, I realize he can see that I’ve been crying.

  I answer the question he’s about to ask, “It’s not going to be easy leaving this place. When I moved back, after mom and dad passed, I did it because I needed to be closer to them…” my voice trails off. “I was just remembering when we moved in.”

  “Gah! Okay, enough of this fucking crying,” determined to just get over it. I return to the box I was sealing up.

  “Izzy.”

  I don’t respond. I’m going to lose it. I don’t want to lose it.

  “Izabella Santo, look at me,” his voice stern, but I can hear the concern.

  I hate to ignore him, but I’m not this. I’m not weak. I don’t cry like this. I just want to get this over with…

  Diego has resorted to sinking to the floor in front of me, dipping his head down so that I am looking directly at him. The copper flecks in his russet brown eyes sparkling from the afternoon sun flooding the room melt my resolve and crack the barrier I’d been trying to build around my still battered heart.

  I collapse into
his waiting arms, relieved not to have to hold in the grief and pain any longer.

  “Izzy, just talk to me. It’s okay. You don’t always have to be so tough and put on a brave face. Let me take care of you. That’s my job.”

  He lifts us both off the ground, my legs wrap around his waist. I cling tighter. I can’t explain it, but when I’m with him, in his arms, I feel invincible.

  He’s making his way down to the outdoor living area. I can hear music playing as we get nearer to our destination. It’s Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely.

  The scene I’m presented is surreal. He’s a mind reader. I give him a quizzical look, “What is all this?” gesturing to the outdoor space filled with the brilliant setting sun, sparkling Christmas lights, and bubbles. Bubbles? In each of the four corners of the room, there are what appear to be children’s bubble machines.

  “Izzy,” I’m still taking in the rest of the room. On the dining table, all my childhood favorites, including strawberry shortcake – no strawberries, Butterfingers, Pay Days, and Cool Ranch Doritos.

  “Aha,” laughing at what he’s done. He’s got my “Daddy’s Little Girl” playlist; I know it because Iggy Pop’s singing about being a real wild child.

  “I kneeww,” emphasizing the ‘knew’, “this was going to be tough leaving this place, Izzy. I know how this doesn’t just feel like home, this is your home and I’m taking you away from it. From them.”

  “It’s not that…” I interrupt, but am quickly shut down with a look that says, Let me finish.

  “Whether you can see it or not, I’m taking you away from them or at least it’s going to feel like that. And I figured that tonight, I’d show you we can bring them with us.

  “We can play the music trivia game, you used to play with your dad,” he smirks, he knows he doesn’t hold a candle to my music knowledge, but he likes to goad me with his shit talking. “I’ll let you win sometimes, too.” That gets a snigger from me.

  “We’ll go site-seeing, do the photo scavenger hunts like you did with your mom. We’ll play Scrabble,” he gestures towards the coffee table in the sitting area. He’s got the Scrabble board set up. We make our way over to it.