Page 122 of His Wicked Revenge

“Nope. That last hour was hell. I can’t wait to eat good food and get drunk.” I tip my glass back again, emptying the contents, and then turn back around for a refill.

“Don’t get drunk yet. We still have the wedding rituals ahead. First dance, father-daughter dance, cake cutting. All the fun stuff,” he says it stalely.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a mother-son dance?”

“Yeah, but he opted out because Myles doesn’t speak to his family. Chloe felt bad and told him she’d skip out of her dance with our dad, but Myles insisted she still do it.” He takes another sip. “My mother always told him that when the day came, she would have danced with him.”

The sentence tugs at my heartstrings. “You don’t talk about her much. You used to always love talking about her.”

Twisting his lips, he nods slowly. “Talking about her hurts too much.”

I don’t bother saying anything else because tonight is supposed to be about happiness. I won’t bring the mood down by talking about his mother when he clearly doesn’t want to talk about her.

“Let’s go find our seats,” he suggests, holding out his hand to lead me to our table.

CHAPTER 44

Leo

The whiskey burns my throat as I swallow. It’s my third drink, and I have been nursing this one. I don’t plan on having more than this. I’m not trying to match the amount Veronica is guzzling down. She has her fourth glass of wine, staring at the guests on the dance floor.

We are separated at the long table that is stationed front and center. Between the two of us, Chloe and Myles sat in their seats as we listened to my father’s speech and ate our dinner.

We haven't spoken much since the two seats are keeping us apart. This is fine with me because my head has been working on overdrive since my conversation with Walter. I feel exhausted with his words rattling around in my mind and trying to keep up a good act with Veronica.

Walt asked if the person I wanted revenge on had hurt me. When I answered with a yes, he told me to do what needed to be done. Does he mean I have to hurt her as much as she hurt me? I know what that entails, but it is a risk.

Hurting her in the same way she hurt me could land me back in prison. I swore to myself that I would never end up back in there, not only for myself but for the sake of my family. I can’t miss Chloe and Myles’s married life or watching my best friend become a father. I can’t leave my father or Carter behind.

My heart warms as I watch my father and sister dancing together. They are talking, but I can't hear what they are saying over the music. Chloe smiles at our father, the man who raised us and loved us unconditionally.

Soon, her lips flatten, and even from where I am sitting, I can see the shine of tears in her eyes. I have no doubt that he said something about our mother. A pang in my chest diminishes the warmth that once wrapped around my heart.

We would give anything for our mother to be here to celebrate with us. Although the atmosphere in the hall is positive and full of joy, it still feels like something is missing.

Our mother.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. I thought that with time, it would get easier, but it doesn’t. Her being gone and never coming back fuels the constant pain that will never leave my body. As much as I try to suppress the emotions, they will live with me forever.

I drop my eyes from my sister and bring them to the white cloth draping over the table. After allowing myself a moment to wallow, I lift my gaze and twist my head in Veronica’s direction.

She was already looking at me with a soft smile as if she knew what I was thinking. Offering back the same smile, I bring the glass to my mouth and finish off the rest of the brown liquid.

Myles flops into his seat, blocking my vision of Veronica. Pure contentment and happiness gleam on his face. “You ready for your speech?”

This is the part I really didn’t want to have to do. Before I went to prison, I wouldn’t have had an issue, but almost everyone here knows what I did. They just don’t know the person I did it for is also sitting in this room.

“Can’t wait,” I state with sarcasm.

“Good because you’re up once the dance is over.”

On second thought, another drink sounds terrific. When the decision is made up in my mind, the music from the father-daughter dance ends.

Great. Looks like I’ll have to get that drink after the speech.

The DJ comes on the microphone, asking everyone to take a seat for the speeches, and as the guests make their way to the tables, the DJ comes to me with the microphone.

I stand, and everyone falls quiet. Clearing my throat away from the microphone, I begin.