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Grace pulls away, and blinds me with her megawatt smile, which we both got from our mother. She has our father’s dark hair and eyes, whereas I am a carbon copy of our mother. Aiden, too. Red hair and green eyes, with a splash of freckles across my cheeks that only appear after a bit of time spent in the sun.
“I’ll need all the help I can get to have this wedding planned in time for April.”
Yes. The reason I’m home after ten years away.
The wedding of Grace O’Leary and Connor Fraser.
Our uncle James, the boss of the Irish mob in Dublin, sent Connor to help our father after the car accident left him lost. He was young but experienced and quickly earned our dad’s respect, becoming his right-hand man in a few short years.
His engagement to Grace was surprising but not entirely unexpected. By marrying his eldest daughter to his most trusted man, he essentially secured Connor’s loyalty for life. And with the absence of a direct male heir, Dad was forced to keep power within the family. It was a smart move. I'd almost be impressed if I wasn’t so angry with my father.
When Grace told me the news and shared how happy she was, I was honestly shocked. I didn’t even know she liked Connor because she never spoke about him when we talked. That was when Grace let me in on a little secret of hers. When she returned home from university, she developed a huge crush on Connor. She once made a pass at him after drinking too much champagne at an event. But being a total gentleman, Connor shut it down fast despite liking her back. He said our dad would kill him if he even laid a finger on her. Which, to be fair, was true.
“I am at your disposal.” I move to link our arms together. “Use and abuse me.”
With my sister’s help, the eight suitcases containing the past ten years of my life are unpacked and organized in my old childhood home. We spend the afternoon going over wedding details, including cake tastings and a recent disagreement she had with Connor about seating arrangements.
“Now that you’re home, I can set up an appointment to have you try on different styles of dresses and get you fitted.”
I grab a bottle of water and curl up on the couch in the sitting room attached to my suite of rooms. “I can’t wait. Your wedding will be a gorgeous affair. I even saw it on one of those gossip sites.”
Grace joins me on the couch with an exaggerated huff. “I know. It’s unbelievable how interested they are in a simple wedding.”
I snort. “Your wedding is anything but simple. It’s the event of the season. Talk of the town even!”
Grace playfully shoves at my shoulder before we fall into a fit of laughter. The energy shifts before she whispers, “I’m really happy you’re here. I know you don’t want to be—”
“No, I don’t,” I snap, harsher than I mean.
Grace drops her eyes to her glass as if she still feels responsible.
“I’m sorry.” A wave of shame washes over me. My frustration about being in Miami is not her fault. “I didn’t mean—”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Rose,” Grace says, using Mom’s nickname for me to comfort us both. “You didn’t leave on purpose. Dad gave you no choice. He can say all day long that it was for your education, but we all know why he really did it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as the memories of the accident crash over me like a wave. The sound of metal crunching, the terrified screams, the burning smell of—
Grace’s hand on my arm breaks through the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. “Looking like Mom is not an excuse to send your daughter away. It’s like he forgets you were in the accident, too.”
“Trust me. He hasn’t forgotten.”
My sister has never blamed me for the accident that claimed the lives of our mother and brother because she has compassion and love and plain common sense. Dad, on the other hand, has never said it out loud, but in the months following the accident, I saw the words plain as day in his eyes. If the devil gave him the chance to make a deal, he wouldn’t hesitate to trade my life for theirs. After all, what’s a girl’s worth in the grand scheme of our world? Aiden was his heir and Isabelle his wife. I’m nothing but a constant reminder of everything he’s lost. A spare daughter.
“I remember how scared you were.” Grace swallows hard before continuing in a choked voice. “I didn’t want you to go. I fought with Dad, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” She reaches for my free hand and squeezes it hard. Sometimes I forget that Grace was only eighteen when Mom died. Older but still a child too young to lose her mother. “Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but as terrible as it was to have you gone, you bloomed over there, Rosaleen. Who knows what ten years of living here with Dad would have done to who you are as a person now? Mom would be proud of the incredible young woman you’ve grown to be. I know I am.”
My sister’s words make my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“Dad can think he was punishing you when he sent you away,” Grace points out, “but I think it was the best thing he could have done for you, and he doesn’t even realize it.”
Tears stream down our faces as we embrace each other tightly; two sisters who have finally found our way back to each other.
Connor waits by the table when we walk in for dinner later that night. He quickly wraps his arm around Grace’s waist and places a kiss on the crown of her head. “Hello, beautiful.”
My father’s second is no longer the lean young man I remember. He’s filled out, his chest and shoulders broader and more defined. His reddish-blond hair is longer than it was in the past, and his facial hair has grown out, which adds to his overall Irish charm. He stares down at Grace like she’s the very air he breathes, his blue eyes twinkling with love. It’s my first time seeing them together, and it’s clear as day that they’re genuinely happy. Something that makes me happy too.
Placing her hand on Connor’s chest, Grace smiles up at him before turning to face me. “You remember Rosaleen?”
Connor shifts his attention to me and smiles. “Of course, I do. It’s good to have you back in time for the wedding.”
