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"Understood, and I appreciate the sentiment."
"There they are." Arthur walks up, Tiny by his side.
The mutt brushes against my wife, who pats his big head. "How’s my boy?" she says in a soft voice. "Did you miss me?"
Tiny makes a purring noise in his throat and leans into her touch. And damn, if I don’t envy him. She loves him, that's clear. Could she still love me after everything I’ve done?
"I see you got rid of the three witches with a 'B,’" Arthur drawls. "No offense." He glances at Cyril.
"None taken." Cyril shrugs.
"Why did you invite them?" I lower my chin to my chest. "They’re not family."
"They had a role to play." His eyes gleam, but the expression on his features does not change.
I stare at him, and he meets my gaze with an innocent look.What the—? Did he invite them, knowing they’d prompt me to come to her rescue and help her make up with her father, thus providing more common ground between my wife and me? Nah, he can’t be that strategic.I frown.Can he?I tilt my head.It'll bet that's why he invited Baron and Ava.The canny old man wanted to prove to me I'm truly over my past. It's time to move forward, and what better way to bring that home than by having my best friend and the woman who I once thought I loved over for our family dinner? For me to able to look at them without feeling an ounce of envy or yearning. It proves to me, even more, that she is my future.
I glower at my grandfather; he beams back, a look of satisfaction on his features. The man is devious with his schemes. And of course, he’d justify it by saying he did it with our best interests at heart. In this case, sadly, I must agree.
Tiny looks between us and whines.
"I think he’s hungry," my wife offers.
"He’s always hungry. The dog has the appetite of a horse." Arthur clicks his tongue, and Tiny rises up and walks over to him. "Let’s eat."
* * *
Arthur taps his fork against his champagne glass, and the talk around the table dies down. "I propose a toast."
"Oh, no," my wife whispers. I follow her glance to where Tiny is watching the bottle of champagne, which has been placed in a bucket next to Arthur, with an unflinching gaze.
"Shit, what was Arthur thinking?"
"Thinking about what?" Nathan asks from next to me.
"The champagne." I nod toward the bottle on ice. "The mutt likes champagne."
"You’re kidding." He blinks.
"Nope." I shake my head."
"Umm, maybe we should do something?" my wife interjects.
"And steal Arthur’s moment in the limelight?" Knox smirks from across the table.
"What are you’ll nattering about?" Ava turns to my wife. She’s seated next to her with Baron on her other side. My once-best friend, with whom I parted on good terms when he and Ava had gotten married—then failed to keep in touch with him. I’ve also avoided meeting his eyes all through dinner.Loserthat I am. Because what can you say to a man who was practically your brother, in all but blood, and who you decided not to talk to because you were jealous.Face it; you hated the fact he got the girl you thought you loved.And I’d have continued thinking that way, but for the fact I found the one I really wanted.And then you did everything in your power to alienate her. She should leave you. She should never forgive you. You should never forgive yourself.How am I going to repent for what I did? I reach for the flute of champagne and raise it.
"Thank you to all of you for coming here to bring in the New Year. Congratulations to Edward—the first of my grandsons to get married."
"—but not the last." Knox coughs, and Nathan glares at him. He continues to smirk and raises his flute in Nathan’s direction.
"A big welcome to the family, Mirabelle. You put up with Edward every day, and I can only thank you for that."
"Hear, hear," Sinclair calls out from across the table, and it’s my turn to scowl at him.
"He doesn’t deserve you, my dear, and if you ever need someone to kick his arse"—Arthur smirks, —"you only have to ask."
"And me," Sinclair adds.
