Right on cue, the door opens and Artem sticks his head in.
“Are you three done with your makeup?” he says impatiently. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Grinning like a fucking idiot, I leave my room and head downstairs. Artem falls into step beside me. Technically, he’s the officially-designated best man, even though it feels like I really have three of them today.
Quinn comes slinking up as we pass through the house. He’s got something in his hands. “For you, sir,” he says simply.
“Pretty sure gifts are supposed to wait until after the ceremony,” I drawl.
“This one was earmarked for early delivery, sir.”
I frown. “Who’s it from?”
In reply, he just hands it to me and walks away.
I set the bulky item down and tear away the brown paper wrapping. Inside is a wreath of stunning flowers.
But it looks different than any of the bouquets I’ve seen yet today. Oddly foreign. Almost like it’s from…
“Those motherfuckers…” I laugh under my breath. My hands are shaking a little as I open the card that came with the wreath.
Poncho!!! it reads. A little birdie told us you were getting married today. I’m sorry we can’t be there, but I wanted to send you a gift. Papa says hello. So does Gaspar, even though he’s getting kinda old and fat and lazy. He misses you. We all do. I hope you did whatever you had to do up in Ireland so you can come see us sometime soon. There’s a roast chicken with your name on it if you do (and also the roof needs fixing, so if you could hurry, that would be great!)
Te quiero mucho (that means I love you very much),
Carla Amengual de la Cavallería Hernandez
I set the card down with a goofy smile stretching from ear to ear. “Culín,” I whisper under my breath. “Te quiero mucho, too.”
I have a feeling she’ll get the message.
“We really gotta go now,” Artem says from my shoulder. “You can’t be late to your own wedding. Saoirse will murder you.”
I shudder and tuck Carlita’s card inside my jacket. “God forbid. That woman is terrifying.”
* * *
Saoirse is the one who insisted we get married in the O’Sullivan Manor. As always, her choice was right.
Artem and I make our way to the lower garden that overlooks the lake. There’s a giant canopy arch rippling with flowers.
It’s the perfect setting. I feel excitement rush through my body.
This is why I came back to Ireland.
I came back for the happy ending I’d left behind.
The guests murmur as I walk past them. A few say hi and others rise to shake my hand.
Padraig’s seat is in the front row, next to Ma and Da, though it’s empty while he waits for Saoirse in the back. Thankfully, Ma will be situated between the two men, the natural buffer to a relationship that is strained but civil.
Sean slips into a seat in the row just behind them, next to a beautiful woman with blue-black hair and shimmering, light-green eyes.
Artem gives his wife a kiss before he joins me under the arch, taking up his position on my left-hand side. Esme clutches little Phoenix’s hand and waves excitedly at me.
“Doesn’t Uncle Cillian look handsome?” she coos, throwing me a wink.
Artem snorts. “Not nearly as handsome as Daddy, right?”