AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I didmyjob with the resources I had,” Max snaps with all his feathers clearly ruffled.
“Okay, kids, no fighting at the table,” Kieran butts in as he slaps Max on the back. “You two need to go work this out in the gym.”
Eyes on fire, Eva tips her chin toward Max. “He won’t spar with me because I can out-fight him any day.”
That earns her a rumbling growl and two slit eyes that say more than words ever could.
Oh boy. They’ve got some issues to work out. Maybe Kieran should have suggested the sack instead of the gym.
Before the tension at the table snaps something in half, Ariel jumps up. “I think I’ll get that dessert now.”
Declan, who hasn’t said a word the whole time, pushes back from the table. “I’ll help, I'm good for helping carry heavy stuff, if you remember.”
Ariel’s head whips around, her eyes are wide, and her lips are pinched together. Oh yeah, she remembers.
“Gotta run to the restroom,” Nikki quickly says. Marcus says he’s going to make a drink run. Kieran and I just get up from the table, laughing as we take off across the lawn.
Yes, indeed. Sparks are going to fly so high that something’s sure to catch fire.
EPILOGUE
Eight Months Later
My balance is a little off. My heart is too heavy for my chest. It might be morbid, but my entire family understood. This is where I wanted our first meeting to be.
Thirty yards ahead, a man is standing between the graves, head heavy on his shoulders, a bouquet of pale flowers wrapped in tissue gripped in his hand.
Behind me, my husband stands sentry at the end of the row of headstones. His steady eyes on me give me strength to do this.
The morning is mild. Mist clings to the blades of grass making them dazzling green, and the sun creates a soft effect on everything. It makes me think of angels.
I must make a sound because the man raises his head and looks at me as I approach.
When I reach him, a sucker punch hits me in the gut, then soothes something that was aching inside me for more years than I can count. He has my eyes.
Water glosses his, pooling on thick, dark lashes. He reaches toward me tentatively, extending the flowers. “I brought these for you.”
My hand is shaking when I take them. When I glance down, there’s another bouquet on the grave that holds my mother’s and his lover’s remains. “Thank you. That was very sweet.”
We both let out a nervous exhale at the same time.
“This is hard,” I say quietly.
He nods and pushes his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “It’s never gotten easier.”
“I miss her even after all these years,” I admit with a wobble in my voice.
“Me too.”
We stand silently, and the calls of birds and a distant overhead airplane are the only noises in our little bubble of pain.
“I kept tabs on you and watched you grow up into a fine young woman. Your mother would be very proud,” Riordan Shea says with his thick Chicago accent.
I’m too emotional to reply.
Regret in his voice, he says, “There wasn’t anything I could do to get you away from Coghlan, though. I tried like hell.”
When I turn to look at him, his face is etched in pain. Years of grief are furrowed in heavy lines around his mouth, along his brow, and beside his eyes. Voice thick with misery, he says, “I loved your mother with all of my heart.”
