Our wedding was small, intimate.
Six months after Declan proposed for the second time, and more than a year after that secret phone call, we gathered in the backyard of my father’s house. There was a white wooden archway erected at the end of the garden, vines and flowers twining around it in a bloom of color. The only people invited were our families and close friends, all of them watching as Declan and I said our vows one last time.
It felt different this time.
Maybe I was just trying to reassure myself, but Declan’s smiles came easier these days, his eyes brighter without the heavy weight of his father’s darkness resting on his shoulders. The day we got married, he cut those ties for good, changing his name legally to Declan Foster…with both his mother and my father’s blessing. It had been like watching a weight lift off his shoulders, helping him see the world in a new light, all the while refusing to let Donald Masters’ darkness touch our lives together.
It didn’t mean the last few months had been easy. Our names had been dragged through the media again when the inmate who had originally brought suspicion on Donald came forward with more information. Turns out, he’d essentially been a hitman for hire, and he had anice paper trail leading right to Donald’s door. The guy had sat on it all these years, just in case he ever needed it.
A year ago, he’d killed someone high up in the local Italian mafia. He’d gotten caught and now the head of the mafia was apparently threatening his family, as well as making the guy’s life extremely uncomfortable in prison. There was nothing the authorities could do for him behind bars, but in return for his information, they’d promised protection to his family.
So, Donald had been found guilty of first-degree murder as an accomplice, as well as obstruction of justice and embezzlement. There were other charges brought forward by the DA’s office, and he’d been sentenced to life in prison without parole, as well as a litany of other sentences.
All of which meant there wasn’t even a slim chance he’d ever walk free again.
Abigail had cried for days after the verdict came back and the sentencing was handed out. After that, she’d brushed herself off and carried on rebuilding her life. She was still going to therapy, but Declan, Nolan and Darcy had started showing up for her, even attending sessions as a family. I think that, more than anything else, had helped her to realize how much Donald’s influence had poisoned their family.
I’m not sure she’ll ever be completely free from the shadow Donald left over her, not after years of enduring him, but she was trying.
My mother…Gloria…
I still struggled with my lack of grief for her, knowing she was my mother but not knowing her. It feels like something was stolen from me, but it was something I didn’t even know I’d lost.
Reading about her and how she’d died, it felt distant. Like when you read a sad story, and think,‘God, I hope that nothing like that ever happens to me.’ I grieve for the woman I never got to know, and the memories I lost, but it doesn’t hurt like it should.
The owner of the diner she worked in remembered her, and the date she’d started. It had only been a couple weeks after my father had kicked her out, and the owner confirmed that she’d never shown any sign of being pregnant. We would never know what really happened, but she had to have lost the baby, either by miscarriage or abortion.
I don’t turn around as Declan comes outside, wrapping his arms around me. He leans down, resting his chin on my shoulder, both of us looking out over the view. We’re on the porch of our rented cabin, halfway up a mountain, surrounded by dense forests, and at least thirty minutes from the nearest town.
Just the two of us. And no phones.
I sigh deeply, his warmth at my back and the chilled air brushing against my cheeks. It’s a dreary day, overcast and drizzling with rain, but I can’t imagine anything better than this.
“You regretting this over a beach yet?” His warm breath brushes against my earlobe, making me shiver. He leans forward, the bristles of his jaw brushing against my cheek. I turn, catching his mouth with mine in a brief kiss.
“No,” I say quietly. “This is…” Another sigh escapes as I lean back, letting him take my weight. “I think we needed this, and I couldn’t imagine a better location.”
When we originally planned the trip, he’d looked death straight in the eyes as he jokingly suggested returning to Hawaii. After I threatened to go on the trip by myself, he’d backtracked pretty quickly, apologizing for his poor sense of humor with enough kisses that we’d ended up back in bed, both of us decisively choosing to go anywherewithoutsand.
Behind me, he grunts. “Still think a serial killer would say the exact same thing. You planning on offing me now that we’re married again?”
I roll my eyes, exclaiming, “Damn! You’ve caught onto my masterplan.” I wait a beat. “Luckily, you wouldn’t have warned anyone, and I made sure our location was kept secret from anyone who would go looking for you!”
I spin in his arms, just in time to catch his brow winging up.
“Your dad knows where we are.”
I give him a mock-pitying look. “Oh, honey…he’s definitely in on it.”
He scowls, reaching down to pinch my ass through my jeans, but I barely feel it, but then he’s palming me completely, groping me with a leer. “Better get my kicks in then,” he says. “You know, before you off me and bury me somewhereon this mountain.”
“I suppose that would be the kind thing to do,” I say thoughtfully. “Let you go out with a bang.”
His smile widens, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Bangis the right word for it,” he says huskily, making me laugh. He joins in, but then the laughter falls away, leaving us in a comfortable silence. I stare up at him, my hand lifting to play with the silver chain around his neck. My new rings glitter brightly on my finger, even with the sun hidden behind the clouds.
“It feels surreal here,” I tell him. “Married again, and on another honeymoon. I never thought…”
“This isn’t a honeymoon,” he disagrees.
