Page 116 of Shadow Dance

I get it. The life we lead, the choices we make, they come with risks. “I get it, but I don’t want you worrying.”

“Then promise me you’ll always come home. No matter what happens out there, no matter what they ask you to do, you’ll always come back.”

“I will.” I tilt her chin up, wanting her to look at me. “I promise.”

“Good,” she says. “Because I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“And my family really loves you too,” she says almost wistfully. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised they wanted to make things official.”

Epilogue

Maeve

“Do you remember,” begins Bria, perched beside me on the loveseat, Jules at her breast, “the first time I came here? For Thanksgiving? We were like, sixteen.”

“You were still fifteen.” I let the makeup artist tilt my face to apply more bronzer. “Of course, I remember. That’s when you and my brother began your sordid affair.”

“Anyway,” she says loudly, “we were driving up and you showed me a picture on your phone. You said you’d get married in that garden one day.”

I grin, remembering. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Bria grins, too. “And now here we are.”

Herebeing the country house in Winchester. “Full circle. Although now that I think about it, you and Eviebothstole my thunder.”

“Whatever, youmademe get married here,” she says, flicking my arm. “And Evie had no choice in the matter. Right, Evie?”

“Right!” Evie glances over from her conversation with Portia and Delphine. “Uh, what are we talking about?”

“Maeve’s salty she didn’t get married here first when it was her idea,” Bria says.

“Oh, yeah.” Evie glances out at the garden, which is steadily filling with people. “Well technically, Tristan and I got married in Savannah. We just had our first anniversary here.”

“That’s true, but don’t remind Sloane.” Bria smiles impishly at my mom as she hands Juliet over to her. “Anyway, how does it feel to finally get your dream wedding?”

“It feels like … well, a dream,” I say with a soft laugh. The makeup artist finishes with a small flurry of a shimmery powder and steps away so the photographer can capture a few more behind-the-scenes shots.

Cruz asked me to marry him last Christmas. We’d talked about it, and it was something we both wanted, but I was still surprised when I unwrapped the tiniest box beneath the tree and found a diamond ring inside.

We had a small, private ceremony at St. Brigid’s last week to officially receive the sacrament, but I wanted to have the big wedding up here. Like Bria said, it was what I’d always wanted, ever since I was a little girl, and it was fun bringing those dreams to life. Our guest list isn’t quite as insane as hers and Lucky’s was, but people have been flying in all week and now that the big day is here, the estate is buzzing with excitement.

Rising from the loveseat, I cross the room so I can see my makeup in the mirror. “I can’t get over how beautiful that dress is,” Mom says, fussing with the greenery in my hair while my niece tries to grab a piece. “It’s just so romantic.”

Which is exactly what I was going for. With its intricate embroidery on the bodice, sweetheart neckline and full tulle skirt, it really is the thing dreams are made of. Along with my white bridal ballet flats and the sapphire teardrop earrings from my grandmother, Grace, I feel like the star of my very own dance.

If I’m the principal here, then Bria, Evie, Delphine, and Portia are my corps. I follow them out of the guest house, admiring how the soft, tulle fabric of their matching dresses floats around their legs. “See you soon,” calls Delphine, blowing me a kiss as they disappear into the garden.

Blowing out a nervous breath, I stand beneath a tree and wait for my father. It’s a warm July day, bordering on hot, but thankfully there’s a breeze. I probably could’ve picked a cooler month, but my mother’s garden is a riot of color at this time of year, a fragrant oasis of roses,hydrangeas, peonies, and wildflowers. I’ve always loved the way it looks at the height of summer.

Besides, we have wide panels of pale blush and white chiffon stretched over the rows of wooden chairs, providing shade from the brilliant sun. And it’s late afternoon, so it’ll cool off soon enough. And well, it’s my wedding damn it. This is what I wanted.

When we’re given our cue, Dad gives me his arm and walks me down the aisle where Cruz is waiting with my brothers, his Uncle Armando, and my girls. Bria takes my bouquet when Dad hands me off to Cruz, and Father Twomey, the same priest who once baptized me as a baby, proceeds to bless our vows.

The rest of the world falls away when I look at Cruz’s face. It’s just him and me and everything we went through—chaos and violence, peace and promises, determination and resilience. His dark eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen, filled with something so deep, so steady, that I can hardly breathe. He fought so hard for me. He chose me. And he keeps choosing me every day.

Tears prick at my eyes as he holds my hands a little tighter, like he’s reminding me that we made it. And I know, without any doubt, that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be, with the only person I was ever meant to love forever.

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