Tango’s head lifted, gaze narrowed and cautious. “Talk about what?” But he knew; his face revealed that he did.
“You probably don’t want to unpack it all, but if it would make it easier to take if you walked through it all–”
“No. I can’t.”
Aidan nodded. “I get that. I do. But how are you gonna move past it?”
Tango shrugged. “I don’t guess I’m going to.”
The water was ready. Aidan poured some into a mug – slopping a good bit onto the counter – and added the tea bags to steep.
“No peppermint,” he said as he set it in front of Tango. “But it’s still tea.” He offered a quick smile. “Maybe it’ll help.”
Tango wrapped both hands around the mug and stared at its contents for a long time, as the water began to darken. Finally, he lifted his head. “You’re different, brother.” A raw voice, quaking and vulnerable.
“I…” Aidan groped for what to say.
“In a good way,” Tango assured. “Much better.” He twitched a small smile.
It wasn’t an insult or even a compliment, but an observation. A deep one, coming from a place of long-held friendship.
It filled him with a great sadness, to see Tango in this shape. Mercy was right; they were going to have to do something, and fast, or they’d lose their fragile hold on him.
“You could be different too,” Aidan said, and meant it to be encouraging.
Tango raised his mug to his lips. “I don’t think I have it in me.”
~*~
The dress was simple, fluted, and cream, with sheer lace sleeves down to the wrist. Tasteful and elegant, and a steal too, since she’d bought it off the rack. It came with a headband adorned with seed pearls and small white roses. Sam wore it standing in front of Emmie’s floor-length mirror and didn’t recognize herself.
In the reflection, she saw Helen move in close to stand beside her. Her mother was teary-eyed, but beaming, face radiating nothing less than maternal joy. “You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart.”
“I wish Dad was here,” Sam murmured, because suddenly, there was a lump in her throat and it hurt to swallow.
“I do too.”
Sam watched herself smile in the mirror, a sad smile. “Although, Dad would probably hate that I’m marrying a biker.”
Helen breathed a laugh. “I don’t know if he would or not.”
“That’s comforting,” Sam said with a snort.
“Your father would want you to be loved, and happy, and to make your own decisions.” Her brows plucked with worry. “This is a big decision, Sam. Aidan. His child.”
God, was it ever.
“But I know you,” Helen said, voice firm. “And I know you love Aidan, and so I’ve never had any doubts about the kind of man he is. Because of you.”
Because of me, Sam echoed in her thoughts. No pressure, right?
But it didn’t feel like a burden had been laid across her. It had never been that way with Aidan.
“I didn’t change him, Mom,” she said, quietly. “He just didn’t know what he was capable of.”
“Oh, jeez,” Erin said, rolling her eyes as she came up on Sam’s other side. “You guys are so cheesy. Barf.”
Sam checked her smile and glanced over at her sister. “You don’t like weddings?”
