Elizabeth

"Lizzy!" I heard my mother's voice calling from the kitchen. Leaving my room, I head toward where she is.

"Yes, Mrs. Juana?" I tease my mom, as usual, to get a rise out of her. She shoots me a mildly annoyed glance, but soon her laughter breaks through, and it's infectious.

"Get ready, we're going out for a family meal," she says, still grinning.

"What's the occasion, Mom?" I move closer to get a better look at her expression.

"It's a surprise, so get dressed up, and look pretty," she says, planting a tender kiss on my forehead.

"Okay, Mommy," I dash out of the kitchen and hurry to take a shower.

I enter the living room donning a black dress that falls just below my knees, paired with white sneakers adorned with a charming black bow. Unrestrained, my hair cascades naturally, slightly tousled in a way I adore. I notice my parents emerging from their room, looking polished and affectionate, Dad complimenting Mom on how stunning she looks and that he has the most beautiful woman in the world. Mom blushes—a telltale reaction even after so many years, whenever Dad compliments her.

"I hope one day I'll have a love as beautiful as my parents'."

"Someday, you'll have a marriage just as good or even better than your parents'," Grandpa seems to have read my thoughts. I nod in agreement and offer him a smile.

We hop into my father's car, with one of my favorite songs, "Anxiety" by Rafael Montaño, playing on the radio. The city lights mesmerize me as I let the wind caress my face with the window slightly ajar. Eyes closed, I revel in the sensation of the cool breeze.

We pull up to a restaurant bathed in light at the city's heart. Grandpa greets a man at the far end of the venue—a close friend of his since their military service days, Mr. Teobaldo, accompanied by his daughter Mrs. Carmen and his grandson Andres. We approach and exchange greetings.

"You've grown so tall and beautiful," Mr. Teobaldo comments with a warm smile, and I can feel myself blush, though I try to conceal it.

"Isn't she beautiful, Andres?" his grandfather nudges him, making some gesture I fail to catch.

"Yes, you look really pretty and grown-up," he echoes his grandfather's words.

"Thank you," I respond with a half-smile, attempting to camouflage my emotion.

Something feels odd as Grandpa seats us all at the same table.

"The presence of Mr. Teobaldo's family here can't be coincidental."

Amidst idle conversation, the food we ordered arrives. A brief silence ensues, during which Grandpa and Mr. Teobaldo exchange knowing looks.

"Folks," Mr. Teobaldo calls for attention, "Ramon and I have decided it's time our families became even closer," he reveals enthusiastically.

"And how's that, Grandpa?" Andres asks curiously, his interest mirrored by my own.

"Through marriage, son," his grandpa clarifies, adding, "Specifically, your marriage, Andres."

"MARRIAGE?!"

Astonished doesn't begin to cover how I feel, but Andres looks even more shocked. I nervously sip my drink to help swallow the food now stuck in my throat.

"Grandpa, what does this mean? It's a joke, right?" Andres addresses his grandfather, visibly upset but keeping his voice down.

"You know I don't joke," responds his grandfather sternly. I stand up, embarrassed by both my grandfather's declaration and Andres's reaction.

"Excuse me," I mutter, retreating to the back of the restaurant where I can be alone. A deep sigh escapes me, trailed by an unexpected tear.

"Why am I crying?" I ask aloud.

"Because you've been in love with him since childhood."

"Liz!" Andres's voice is unmistakable. I discreetly wipe away my tear and turn to face him. "Sorry about earlier. I was caught off guard and didn't know what to say," he apologizes, but his words still sting, even with his sincerity.

"It's okay. I was startled too," I say, trying to absolve him of any guilt. As I start back to the restaurant, Andres reaches out, halting me with a gentle grip on my arm.

"Liz, I have a girlfriend, and I'm deeply in love with her," he confesses, looking earnestly into my eyes. Holding back a lump in my throat, I reply with resolve, despite feeling my legs go weak.

"You owe me no explanation. Speak to your grandpa; it's he who wants to marry you off," I say firmly, and after releasing his hold, I return to the dinner table. The remainder of the evening is awkward, with no further mention of the arranged marriage—something for which I am profoundly grateful. Once the meal concludes, we bid farewell to Mr. Teobaldo's family.

The car ride home is engulfed in silence. I want—no, need—an explanation for this secret they've kept from me.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" My emotions bubble to the surface, plainly displayed for all to see.

"We wanted to surprise you, Elizabeth," replies my father, eyeing me through the rearview mirror.

"Well, the surprise wasn't well received," I add, hearing my voice crack despite my best efforts.

"It's time for you to get married," Grandpa announces, taking my hand. "Your grandmother and mother were married by your age, and Teobaldo's is a fine family—Andres a good, hardworking, responsible young man." He seems dead set on this union.

But the truth stares us in the face; Andres doesn't want to marry me, and it's obvious to everyone.

Upon arriving home, I retreat to my room, don my pajamas, and lie on my bed staring at the ceiling. A fleeting smile at the thought of marrying Andres quickly fades, crushed by the weight of his words.

"I have a girlfriend, Liz, and I'm deeply in love with her." Those words snuff out the last flicker of hope, leaving me in the dark.

Andrew

After that remarkably awkward dinner with the family, we arrived home, and my mother was extremely serious while my grandfather seemed quite irritated due to my reaction. I knew I had been wrong, which is why I followed her to apologize—I owed her an explanation for my behavior.

"Grandfather, why didn't you tell me before?" I challenged him, anger in my voice.

"She's a good girl from a decent family; what's wrong with that?" he replied, his voice more composed now.

"I don't love her, and she's too young for me," I pointed out the obvious.

"Your mother married at 15, and your father was 25, it's not unusual," he countered.

"I won't marry—you can't force me," I retorted, my fury growing as I moved away from him, heading to my room.

"I won't force you, but..." I heard my grandfather begin to say something but then he stopped, which made me turn to look at him—"I won't include you in my will, and you won't own my stores," he said with a completely calm expression that unnerved me slightly.

"Are you blackmailing me?" I asked, surprised, and he merely shrugged. "How can you do this to me?" I concluded, visibly upset.

"I gave my word, Andrew, and my word is always honored. But I can't force you. So, you choose—either marry or get nothing from me or my stores," he raised his voice so much it sounded almost like a shout.

Heading to my room, I pondered what to do and what to say to Teresa. Everyone was asleep, so I decided to call her, telling her everything that had happened. At first she didn't understand and cried, fearing our relationship would end, but I explained that I'd talk to Liz and if we got married, it would be out of obligation, not love. I asked if she'd be willing to be my wife while I stayed with Teresa, only until we found a way to divorce. Teresa agreed. Now the only thing left was for Liz to agree to help.

...

Elizabeth

I keep reflecting on yesterday's dinner and more so on Andrew's reaction...

"Miss Elizabeth, Miss!" my teacher calls out, noticing my distraction.

"Yes, professor?" I rise to answer, a hint of fear in my voice.

"Please pay attention to my class," he instructs firmly. I simply nod and endure the mockery from some of my peers.

Class ends and I'm with Rosa, my best friend, who keeps asking why I'm so preoccupied. I want to tell everything to Rosa, but I’m embarrassed for her to know about my unrequited love, so I feed her a little white lie, which she clearly doesn’t buy.

"Liz! Liz!" I see Andrew approaching us; his presence here strikes me as odd.

"Liz?" Rosa says, puzzled by the nickname.

"He's called me that since we were kids," I reply.

"How sweet," she says with a grin, though I’m not sure if she’s referring to the nickname or to Andrew.

"Hi Liz," Andrew greets me as he joins us.

"Hello, Andrew," I say, confused by his visit. A brief silence falls upon us until Rosa clears her throat to snap me out of it.

"Rosa, this is Andrew, a friend," I introduce them.

"A pleasure," says Rosa, extending her hand. "Likewise, Miss," Andrew responds cordially.

"Liz, can we talk?" he asks. His unexpected visit has taken me aback, but I don't want to be rude.

"Yes, that’s fine," I reply, quickly suppressing the smile that surfaces.

"See you tomorrow, friend," Rosa departs, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"Bye, Andrew," she waves goodbye, and Andrew reciprocates. From afar, Rosa gestures towards Andrew, giving me thumbs up and miming that he’s very good-looking, which makes me blush intensely.

"He invited me to lunch," Andrew's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Let's go," I answer.

We head to a nearby cafe and order burgers. I'm feeling uncomfortable, nervous, and unsure what to say or do to break the ice.

"Liz, I think we should get married," he suddenly drops the bombshell, sending my heart into a flutter of excitement. But then I remember what he has told me.

"What about your girlfriend, Andrew?"

"Liz, my grandfather wants to cut me out of his will and take away the stores if I don't marry you, and I can’t afford to lose the inheritance..."

I ponder his words and realize he’s asking for a marriage of convenience, while he loves someone else.

"I don't understand..." I wrinkle my brow, "what exactly are you asking of me?"

"I'm suggesting we get married but lead separate lives. I'll continue with my girlfriend, and you’re free to date whoever you want, until we can find a way to divorce... To the family, we’ll appear as the perfect couple."

I'm dumbstruck. The boy I've loved all my short life is asking me to fake a relationship to claim an inheritance and be with the woman he loves. If my heart was shattered yesterday, now it’s turned to dust.

"A sham marriage?" I say incredulously, looking him in the eyes. He simply nods, and I shake my head repeatedly.

"I can’t deceive my family, and I have self-respect."

"Liz, be my wife, please," he holds my hands and looks me in the eyes earnestly. "I’m begging you," he implores, his gaze still locked on mine.

"Yes, I'll help you," storms through my mind. I must be the biggest fool in the world, but I couldn't refuse him, try as I might. He rises from the table and pulls me up into a hug, planting a thankful kiss atop my head.

After finishing our meal, we go to our parents’ house to announce that we will marry. My mother is thrilled, as is my grandfather, and my mother fetches her wedding dress for me to wear—"Family tradition."

Once we tell our families that we'll be getting married, things move fast. My mom and Andrew’s mom plan everything, and in just two weeks, I'll be married.

Yes, I’m marrying the boy I love, but only to aid him in being with his girlfriend and to claim his inheritance.

Elizabeth

Two weeks later

Today is the big day of the sham wedding. I offer my mother a broad smile, even though I feel so bewildered. I can't decide whether to be happy about marrying the man I love or cry because it's all a sham for him to be with the woman he loves.

My bedroom door opens, and I see Rosa in a beautiful red dress that falls below her knees, her short hair adorned with a black ribbon.

"Rosa!" I rush to embrace her, desperate for a hug. "What are you doing here?" I ask, a bit nervous.

"How could I miss my best friend's wedding?" she says, shaking her head and clicking her tongue repeatedly.

(A week ago, I couldn't bear to hear my mother talk about the wedding and the preparations anymore; I felt suffocated. Rosa noticed how bad I was feeling and kept insisting that I tell her everything. Eventually, I did. I told her all about the wedding, my fake husband, and my unrequited love. She didn't want me to go through with it, but she agreed when I told her to relay whatever happened to me. She supported me, even though she didn't want to, and she'd be there when I needed her most.)

"Elizabeth, it's time!" my mother calls out for me to come out. I pace back and forth, debating whether to go out or not.

"Don't worry, I'll be there in case you want to run away," Rosa says, making me laugh involuntarily. I hug her with all my might. She steps out, and I stay in my room a few minutes longer. Anyway, the wedding is in my home's garden; they can wait a few more minutes for me. My father awaits me outside the room, and I step out to see him.

"Daughter, it's time. Let's go," he urges me, offering his hand, which I don't take immediately.

"Father, is this the right thing to do?" I say, very nervous.

"I wouldn't hand you over to that man if I didn't know it's the best for you," he reassures me, kissing my forehead and smiling widely. "Besides, you look stunning." I show my gratitude with a tight hug and a kiss on his cheek. We walk to the altar. There's Andres, who, despite his smile, I know it’s false, the only truth being that he wishes he could run away just as much, if not more, than I do.

"Elizabeth Palacios, do you take Andres Castillo as your lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?" the officiant concludes.

"Until death do us part? We're already planning on divorcing."

"I do," I reply.

"Andres Castillo, do you take Elizabeth Palacios as your lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?" the officiant locks his gaze on Andres, awaiting his response.

"I do," Andres states, offering me a smile.

"You may kiss the bride," declares the officiant.

*WAIT! KISS ME*???

I forgot completely about the kiss he has to give me; this would be my first kiss. I hope he doesn't notice.

Andres steps closer, his lips hovering near mine but not touching, though I am certain it appeared as a kiss to the onlookers.

The celebration is simple, just what I expected from all this. The impending night is what I dread most. My mother mentioned that I must spend the wedding night with Andres, the whole night in one room. I am frightened by what might happen... My parents go to bed, as does my grandfather, leaving us alone in my room. Andres seems calm, the complete opposite of me.

"I'm going to change, could you please turn around?" I ask him.

"Of course," he replies, turning his back on me. I try to reach the zipper on the back of my dress, but it seems impossible.

"Could you..." I hesitate to ask Andres for help; I don't want him to get the wrong impression.

"Don't worry, I'll help you," he chuckles, turning back around and noticing my struggle with the zipper. He lowers it slowly, so slowly it seems never-ending. Once done, I thank him and he turns away again. I change as quickly as I can to not keep him waiting, but there's one problem...

"How are we going to sleep?" I ask, indicating my bed while I watch him strip off his jacket and shoes, leaving him in just a shirt and trousers.

"We'll have to sleep together. If your mother comes in and sees me on the couch, she might get suspicious," he answers, making sense even though I'm not fond of the idea. If my mother saw that scene, the fake wedding could be ruined.

"You're right... Did you bring pajamas?" I venture to ask.

"OH MY GOD! HE'S IN HIS UNDERWEAR!"

"I don't wear pajamas," he states bluntly. I turn away to hide my blushing face. "Time to sleep," he declares, flopping onto my bed like a small child. I remain standing for a few seconds, waiting for the redness to fade. When I finally manage to compose myself, I lie down next to him, turning my back, yet even without touching, it feels strange. His presence disturbs me somehow. I try not to think about it and gradually fall asleep...

I wake up next to Andres, my head on his chest and his arm around my neck. Not wanting to wake him, I rise as carefully as possible and head for the shower. Exiting the bathroom, I see Andres waiting for his turn.

"Good morning," I greet.

"Good morning, Liz," he replies, still groggy, and enters the bathroom. I go to the kitchen to help Mom with breakfast. In a few minutes, everything is ready, and I set the table for a family breakfast like we always do. We start to eat and chat about everyday things; I've always been grateful for our close-knit family.

"After breakfast, Andres and Elizabeth, we need to step out; I have a surprise for you," my grandfather announces. I glance at Andres, and he mirrors my action. Without a word, we both know what the other is thinking.

*Another surprise?*