Roatan Plunge | Love Travels #2

Seven - Lorena

When I was a little girl, before my mother decided to become what she is, I used to dream of growing up to have a wedding with a prince in a grand ballroom. In all of its golden opulence, that ballroom pales in comparison to this one. Bianca's new in-laws have spared no expense.

"And I thought this was fancy in the daylight when we were decorating," Carla whistles as we walk under the ornate floral arch. "But in this twinkly lighting with the wall open to the ocean, I gotta say..." A low whistle is all that comes out.

My own jaw has clearly fallen to the floor as I inspect the tables and chairs which looked regal in the daylight and now appear almost ethereal. If it weren't for the fact that Óscar Calderón was literally out to ruin my life, I'd say this had the makings of a perfect day.

Okay, except the part where I almost drowned in the ocean. A shiver races through me and a small bubble of anxiety forms in my throat at the reminder that my phone is no more. The whole time I'm at this event I'm going to be completely cut off from my work and comments and photographs I could really use for my supplementary blog income.

I'm pulled back to the beautiful room when the live band strikes up in the corner and a beautiful woman I've never met before floats onto the floor in a skin-tight orange dress and twirls around her partner, ready to perform.

Bianca has still not made her entrance, and I'm determined not to make an outrageous scene at her rehearsal dinner because I cannot give anyone that satisfaction after the last time. We make polite conversation and wind through the tables as the couple spins on the floor and finally find the table labeled with our picture just as the man lifts his partner into the air as the music gives a grand crescendo.

I swirl around the table with them until I find my own name in a beautiful calligraphy. I can practically taste the delicious dinner already and the tension falls out of my shoulders for just a moment until I see the place card beside me.

"How could Bianca put him next to me?"

Oops. How could my huge mouth let that thought escape after the day I've had. Just one win, mouth! That's all I'm asking for.

"Who?" Carla peers over my shoulder and bursts out laughing. "Oh I didn't even think about their last names being the same. Bianca's hilarious putting Óscar's name on a card." She's laughing so hard at the situation she's gasping for breath.

"I don't think it's a joke." The words come out all choppy and hoarse, so perhaps Carla doesn't hear me over the music and her snorts of laughter. I can't do anything but stare at the card until the music pulls me back to the band just as the woman kicks her leg up and lands in a final pose that includes her leg over her partner's shoulder.

People should not bend that way. It's unnatural.

Polite applause rings out through the room and a few yelps indicate the arrival of Enrique's family.

"I see the Calderón's have arrived." I poke Carla's shoulder, drawing a much shakier breath than I expected as I crane my neck to see if Óscar is here.

"And look, not an archnemesis soccer star in sight," Carla says, drawing her hair back into a clip and grabbing my hand. "Now let's go say hello. I have my eye on the yummy black haired one."

"They all have black hair, Carla."

She doesn't hear a thing I'm saying as she drags me over to the older woman wearing a flowy red dress adorned with sparkly gems. The elegant way it drapes across one shoulder and under the other arm reveals a beautiful necklace and a very small floral pattern tattoo drawn in a deep brown ink only slightly deeper than her skin tone.