“Who told you about this bracelet?” she whispered.
Mateo raised his arm.
“I have one just like it. And I had a note… with my name.”
A ripple of murmurs swept across the guests.
The groom stepped closer, placing a protective hand around her waist.
“What is he talking about?” he asked, confusion and fear mixing in his voice.
The bride stared at Mateo. Long. Searching.
Then her eyes filled with tears.
“Mateo…” she breathed. “That’s the name I chose when I was seventeen.”
Her shoulders shook.
“I was terrified. My parents said they would disown me. I gave birth alone… during a storm. I thought someone would find you right away. I left you where I believed you’d be safe. I went back the next morning—but you were gone.”
She dropped to her knees before him, her dress pooling around her.
“I’ve been looking for you for years. I hired investigators. I searched shelters. I never stopped.”
Guests openly wept now. Even servers stood still, wiping their eyes.
Mateo swallowed.
“Walter raised me,” he said quietly. “He’s really sick.”
The groom, who had remained silent, lifted his hand. The music stopped completely.
He looked at his bride. Then at the boy. Then at the hundreds of guests watching.