Chapter One
I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else noticed that I was reciting my part of the wedding vows, before the preacher had even stopped talking.
After all, this was my third time around.
Naturally, I had memorized what it was that I was supposed to say.
Here I was again, for the third time, standing at an altar, in an off white wedding gown, vowing to love the man standing across from me forever.
I tried to look as happy and as hopeful as I had the first time around; though I had the feeling that I wasn’t exactly selling the part as well as I’d hope to.
I glanced briefly at my parents. They were smiling, but their eyes seemed to be passing judgment. Earlier that day Daddy had made a comment saying that this was his fourth time given a daughter away…but he only had two daughters. You, damn right I was offend…but he was right.
After all, being on my third husband was just a tad bit depressing.
But I was already in my thirties; and if I didn’t marry now, I’d probably spend the rest of my life alone.
And that was something I just couldn’t do.
And believe me I wasn’t in this situation because I wanted to be. If it had been up to me, I’d still been married to one of my first two husbands’. But let’s just say that forever had come a lot sooner than I’d thought it would.
But on the bright side of things, I’d always heard that good things happen in three’s…did that apply to marriages too?
It’s been said that the third time was the charm and for my sake, and Santana’s, I sure hope so.
I smiled sincerely at Santana.
Santana Jones was the definition of a damn good man. From the very beginning, he had been nothing but good to me and in almost two years, I could truly say that he was still the same man that he’d always been.
You know, most people change as time goes by; but not Santana.
Santana was adorably charming, exciting and witty. He was like a rainbow at the end of a stormy day or that first cup of coffee first thing in the morning.
And I guess it didn’t hurt that he had a good bit of money; not a lot---but enough.
We could live comfortably, and worry free. I didn’t have to work, and it was more than enough to keep us stress free.
But…I must admit; it was a lot less than I was used to.
My first husband had been a doctor; the second had owned his very own technology company.
And Santana, well, he just owned one-fourth of a construction company.
Santana and three of his friends from college started the business from scratch only a year or so after graduating. Granted, they’d made a good bit of money, and had come a long way from where they’d started, but after expenses and splitting everything four ways---it was just enough.
And Lord knows that if it wasn’t for Santana, they would have probably been out of business a long time ago.
Santana was the brains of the operation; the man in the suit, behind the desk, finding and landing the contracts for their business. He went in the office during the week every single day as if he had to, to make sure that he kept things going for them. The other three were some of the laziest men I’d ever met. But they were his friends…not mine.
But getting back to the point, Santana’s life style just wasn’t as lavish as I was accustomed to.
I guess in a way that was a good thing.
Money was the root, the branch; hell the whole damn tree, of evil.
Everyone wanted a piece of the pie, and experience had taught me that they were willing to do pretty much anything to get it.
But if I had to be completely honest, with or without Santana, money was the least of my worries. I had more than enough of it stashed away; but that was a conversation for another day.
Santana and I met by mistake, and he’d swept me off of my feet by surprise.
The day that we’d met, Santana had actually mistaken me for someone else. I turned around to face him with an attitude, but instantly my face softened as
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