He nodded.
“About marrying me?”
He turned quickly.
“Never about that.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
“Then what?”
He closed his eyes.
“Do you believe a person can do something terrible for a reason that started out good?”
I pulled back.
“What kind of question is that?”
He forced a smile.
“Wedding nerves.”
I should have pressed harder.
Instead, I kissed him, told him our day would turn out great, and went to bed.
The next afternoon, I stood at the chapel doors beside my mother.
The music began.
She squeezed my hand.
“You look beautiful.”
“So do you.”
“I know.”
That made me laugh.
The doors opened.
At the altar, Leo looked like he might cry.
I smiled at him.
He did not smile back.
He looked terrified.
I walked down the aisle.
When I reached him, he took both my hands. His fingers were shaking.
The priest welcomed everyone.
Then, before the vows, Leo spoke.
“Wait.”
The chapel went silent.
He looked at the priest, then at me.
“I need a moment with Monica.”
My mother frowned from the front pew.
I whispered, “What’s wrong?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Everything.”
He led me a few steps to the side of the altar. We were still visible to everyone, and as much as he tried to drop his voice, he could still be heard.
“I cannot marry you today.”
The words struck so hard I felt dizzy.
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Then why are you saying this?”
“Because you do not know who I am.”
A nervous murmur moved through the chapel.
I searched his face.
“What does that mean?”
He reached into his tuxedo and pulled out an old photograph.
It showed two boys standing side by side.
