In a country like Malaguay which has been shaken by civil war for decades, death is an everyday occurrence. Felipe's is no exception. When I ask Miguel about the funeral, he informs me, without the slightest hint of emotion, that his cousin was placed in the mass grave outside the village with the rest of the bodies. It's an odd concept. People at home make such a big fuss out of family burials. Secretly, I'm glad since I dreaded going.

The only one remotely impacted by Felipe's death is Tomás. He is even broodier than usual, snapping at everyone who dares to speak more than two words to him. With the weekend marking the end of basic training, I'm relieved that I won't have to deal with him anymore on a daily basis. We all head to town for a drink to celebrate after the last training on Friday afternoon.

While the others turn to the bar, I quietly slip through a side door of the church. I'm mesmerized. The colorful glass of the mosaic windows filters out the bright sunlight, yet the hundreds of long, narrow candles that flicker against the arched walls offer a warm and comforting light. My gaze rests on the cross as I light a spare candle for Felipe.

"Goodbye, Felipe. I hope you found peace." When I remember his smile, a single tear rolls down my cheek. I had hated him for his betrayal with Charo, but a small piece of my heart will always hold a special place for him. After all, he was my first love, and I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him.

Leaving the church, I step into the bar.

Tomás looks up from his glass. "Where were you?"

"I wanted to light a candle for Felipe."

He snorts as he downs his shot in one go, signaling to the bartender to pour him another. "Why bother? It's not as if any one of us will go to heaven."

"You shouldn't say that."

"Come on, Stacy. As soldiers, we kill people. How can we ever go to heaven?"

"Any sin can be forgiven if you truly repent."

"I'm sure you're the expert." An unbearable smirk crosses his lips and he empties the glass again. "Besides, why would you light a candle for Felipe? You hated him."

"Forgiveness is another one of God's wisdoms."

"If you say so." He pours another shot down his throat.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"He was my best friend and the only one I had left."

"That's not true. You have Shauna."

He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath, and tosses a few bills on the counter. "C'mon, I'll take you home."

"What about the celebration?"

"For us, there's nothing to celebrate."

~~~~

In stark contrast to funerals going by almost unnoticed, the union of one of Malaguay's elite is celebrated in elaborate style. For Ramon and Bettina's wedding, Miguel arranges for a seamstress to have a special dress sewn for me that highlights my curves and looks astonishing. I spin around in front of the mirror in awe, unable to take my eyes off my changed appearance. Just three months ago, I felt like a plain Jane, but today, I'm proud of my looks. My sun-kissed skin has a golden glow, and my body has lost all resemblance to the saggy frame I struggled with for so many years. It feels good to have finally stepped out of the shadows.

"You look beautiful." A necklace with a single pearl appears out of thin air in Miguel's hand. He nibbles my earlobe while he fiddles with the clasp, his hot breath making me tingle all over.

"You're pretty handsome yourself." I turn around to straighten his bowtie.

His face is serious as he catches my hands. "Today's a really special day, Stacy. It's the first time I'll introduce a woman into Malaguay's society as my girlfriend. There might even be more eyes on you than on the bride, so try not to steal the whole show from Bettina."

I frown. "What about Juana?"

"Nope." He inspects me with a crease on his forehead and loosens a few strands of my French braid for soft waves to frame my face. "My father didn't approve of her, so she never accompanied me to any official function."

"And he approves of me?"

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "He has little choice. You're the perfect woman by my side."

I'm about to ask him what makes me so perfect when Naiara calls from downstairs. "Guys, the cars are here." She meets us at the bottom of the steps, her body squeezed into a lacy turquoise dress that isn't only way too short but also makes her appear even younger than her twenty-one years.

"Shall we?" Miguel offers me his arm and my hand finds the familiar firm muscles. As we walk toward the waiting limo, I feel like a princess being led by my Prince Charming. This day is going to be special.

~~~~

The church is nestled into the mountains on the outskirts of the capital, hidden from the views of spectators and snipers alike. We pass five patrol posts on the way, the soldiers saluting as soon as they recognize the president's car. As we pull up, TV crews and reporters surround us. They begin shooting as Miguel extends his hand to help me out of the limo.

"I didn't know there would be so much fuss about this wedding," I mumble, trying to ignore the heat in my cheeks.

"Ramon's father is what you'd call the Secretary of State. All of his so-called friends are here, so they can gossip about us over the months to come."

"And the reporters?" When a young woman snaps a close-up picture of me, my lips automatically tilt upward.

"Regional press from the surrounding countries." He flings his arm around my shoulders, giving the same reporter a big toothpaste grin. "Smile, honey. Everyone is dying to meet you."

I oblige, my lips soon frozen in a smile. It totally escaped me that as the president's son, Miguel is expected to take his place one day, making me the prime candidate for Malaguay's first lady.

Naiara has it down cold, waving at the cameras with this beaming expression that makes me sick to my stomach. It's a political circus I don't like. According to Miguel, none of the surrounding countries are supportive of the current regime and help the rebels whenever they can, short of causing the conflict to spill into their own territory. In a way, they are all guilty of Felipe's death. He didn't deserve to be slaughtered by Malaguay's enemies.

Miguel's hand rests on the small of my back as he ushers me through the church to our seats in the second row, right behind Ramon's family. General Varela shakes Santino's hand and gives Miguel and me a small nod with his usual grouchy face. The woman next to him offers a thin smile. That must be Ramon's mom. She lives with her family in Colombia most of the time, though Bettina said that she plans on returning to Malaguay when the baby is born. Bettina can't stand her, claiming she is outright vicious.

Sittingdown, I'm conscious about the whispers behind me. Before my training, this would've been torture; now, it doesn't bother me. The slight warmth in my cheeks is the only thing left of my former self, and I'm confident that even that will go away once I'm used to all the attention.

When Ramon steps in front of the altar, everyone's focus turns to the groom's party. Tomás is his best man, his gaze resting on my cleavage. He winks at me playfully.

Miguel stiffens. "I can't believe the bastard makes it that obvious."

"Miguel, we are in church. Don't swear."

"Sorry." He gives me a crooked smile as he makes the sign of the cross. "I just can't help it. Everyone knows he's a dog."

My forehead wrinkles. "But he's married."

"Yeah, but Shauna's a disobedient bitch who gives him the hardest time." He makes the sign of the cross again, mumbling another low "Sorry."

"I've always thought he's really mean to her."

"It's her own fault. That girl has issues . . ." His last words are drowned out by sudden music and we rise to our feet.

One by one, the bridesmaids walk down the aisle: first, a Hispanic girl I don't know, then Raine, and finally Shauna. It stings that Bettina didn't even ask me whether I wanted to be part of her wedding. Granted, the three were inseparable before I even got here, and once I started training, I didn't spend a lot of time with them, but I always thought there was a common bond among the foreign girls.

Walking behind her friends, Bettina is a little pale. The loose wedding gown is unable to hide her advanced pregnancy. With her due date in a couple of months, the baby must be kicking a lot, and she probably isn't getting much rest. She told me the other day that she thinks it's a boy because the baby is so active. A boy is also what Ramon and his father are hoping for. For me, gender wouldn't make a difference as long as the baby is healthy. It's the only thing that matters.

The ceremony is in Spanish, and despite having a couple of Spanish lessons with Naiara since finishing basic training last week, I don't understand anything other than the sí during the vows. I hide a yawn, my mind drifting to the weddings I attended in our church back in Indiana. Being pregnant would've been unthinkable, the white only reserved for virgin brides. 

People in Malaguay have a totally different value system, but it's much closer to reality. During the last few months, I have come to resent my sheltered upbringing. My parents made sure I lived in a pink bubble, totally oblivious to what's going on in the world; a fact that has left me unprepared to face so many challenges. If it weren't for Miguel, I'd still hide behind a facade of ignorance. Becoming a soldier has been good for me, and I don't regret, even for a moment, that I stayed in Malaguay instead of going back to the States. My parents' only response to my email was their "deep regret and disappointment that I viewed this step as necessary." Their lack of support left a bitter taste in my mouth and only confirmed that I'll never live up to their expectations.

Erupting applause brings me back to the church. Pulling Bettina into a hug, Ramon plants the mandatory wedding kiss on her lips and she looks incredibly happy as she makes her way up the aisle, her arm looped with her husband's. They make a cute couple.

"Have I told you today how much I love you?" Miguel whispers in my ear.

As so many times before, butterflies somersault in my stomach. I got so lucky with him. "I love you, too."

"You know, you could be next." His hot breath, fanning against my neck, robs me of my senses.

I indulge in the soft tingles his lips leave behind on my skin. "Hmm. Is that a proposal?"

"As much as I want it to be, this is neither the right place nor the right time." The glow in his eyes makes my heart jump. "Trust me, when I propose, it'll be epic."

His words triple my heartbeat; he has actually thought about our future together. It has been on my mind a lot lately, but I've been terrified to ask him, afraid that he would laugh it off as premature.

"Let's go, Stacy. The party is waiting. I can't wait to dance with you."

His face is utterly relaxed; he looks like a mischievous little boy planning on a great afternoon. It's so different from the tension that has been hanging over him at night after he finishes work. In this moment, he is the Miguel I fell in love with and the only man I could ever imagine spending the rest of my life with.

~~~~

The reception is hosted at Malaguay's only hotel and resembles a ball more than a party. Hundreds of people who couldn't have fit into the church soon line up on the large terrace to congratulate the happy couple. The buffet includes every delicacy imaginable, and the main feature of the open bar is a fancy champagne fountain.

Miguel hands me a glass filled to the brim. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

Before I can object, he disappears in the crowd. I sip my champagne, glancing around. Most guests have started to find a seat. The food looks delicious and my stomach growls, but I'm determined to wait for Miguel before digging in.

"Hello, Stacy. It's nice to see you again."

I turn toward the unfamiliar voice and it takes me a hot second to place the big man as the guy I met at the market the day I went shopping with Miguel. "It's Pearson, right?"

"Yes, it is." He has his hand wrapped around a whiskey glass and takes a good swallow while studying me. His intense stare makes me twitch. I rock back and forth on my heels, scanning the crowd for Miguel.

Another man steps beside him who inspects me with the same scrutiny. "Is that her?"

I frown at the hostility in his voice.

"Yes." Pearson's smile is sugary sweet. "Stacy, this is the US ambassador to Malaguay, Anthony Bennett."

"Oh." I swallow hard. All of a sudden, he's intimidating. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

He doesn't even bother with pleasantries but only glares at me without uttering a single word.

I keep rocking back and forth, unsure what to do about the awkward silence that has fallen over us.

Finally, Miguel comes to my rescue. "Mr. Ambassador, I'm so glad you could make it." His voice is chilled, as if he means the exact opposite.

Bennett tears his gaze off me and focuses on Miguel. "My condolences on Señor Gallega's death." His voice is just as cold. "It's always tragic to lose family."

"Thank you." Miguel's cheekbone jumps from grinding his teeth together. More pressing silence follows. A spark could have set off an explosion.

Miguel slides his hand under my elbow. "If you'd excuse us." He steers me toward a table where his dad and Naiara have found a seat, pulling out a chair for me.

I exhale with a puff. "What was that all about?"

"Bennett is just a jerk, playing some political mind game." Miguel's words tremble with anger. He moves the chair forward to allow me to sit down. "What gets me is that he lies to my face about how sorry he is over Felipe's death, but in reality, it was his government's fault."

"Well, I don't approve that his government sticks their noses where they don't belong. The US has enough problems of their own and should learn to stay out of other people's conflicts." I unfold my napkin, my hands shaking.

"His government is also your government," Santino says.

I gaze at him; never in my life have I resented being an American more. If it weren't for their snipers, Felipe would still be alive. "Truthfully, I never supported the US foreign policy. They have no right to be the policemen of the world. No one wants their help."

"I am glad to hear that." Santino waves for a waiter to fill our wine glasses. "Now, let us move on from this unfortunate incident. Today is a celebration. By god, we have far too few of those."

I nod, trying to calm the turmoil inside me. The encounter with Bennett really upset me.

"I'm proud of you." Miguel beams at me with a wide smile. "There's no one in the world I'd rather be with. In my eyes, you're not even an American anymore."

I shoot a nasty glare in Bennett's direction. "Malaguay is my home now."

"And I can't wait for you to become my wife, so you can officially change your citizenship."

The eagerness in his voice makes me grin; it's the second time today that he's mentioned marriage. I couldn't imagine a life without him anymore.

As I gaze at the happy faces around me, this feels right. Sure, Malaguay has its flaws, but what country doesn't? Home is where the heart is, and Miguel and his people have certainly conquered mine.

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2017

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