Page 67 of Shadow Dance

Dinner is a grand production. A rambling, tipsy grace is said, a few toasts are made, and then we eat on the patio, surrounded by twinkle lights and space heaters. My phone vibrates from my lap, and when I look down, I see Liam grinning up at me with a massive turkey leg in his fist. My heart aches, but then it soars.

I’ll be with them at this time next year.

I’m making small talk with the girl to my right, a distant cousin of Callum’s, when the din at the table falls to a hush. Even the music has been lowered. I turn to find Callum standing at his spot beside me, lightly tapping a fork to his glass. Dario watches from the head of the table, a small smile playing at his lips.

“It’s not often I get to see everyone, especially not all at the sametime,” begins Callum, setting down his glass. “I’m grateful for that. Thank you for bringing us together, Uncle Dario.”

A hearty chorus of thanks rises from the table, speckled with applause as everyone raises their glasses in tribute to the family’s patriarch.

Callum looks down at me with a grin that would have melted my heart a few years ago. “Maeve, we’ve been together a long, long time.”

Nausea washes over me, and it has nothing to do with all the food I just ate.Please, God, don’t let this be what I think it is.

“And I always said I’d do this when the time was right,” he continues, reaching into the pocket of his pants.

I go cold, panic prickling over my skin. There’s a flurry of gasps and excited whispers as he produces a small, black box and reaches for my hand. Instead of getting on one knee, he pulls me to my feet. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want this. I haven’t wanted it for a long time—I can’t even remember when we last discussed marriage.

Horrified, I watch as he slides a stunning diamond ring onto my trembling finger. “I love you, Maeve. Will you marry me?” he asks with a charming, confident smile.

What the hell am I supposed to say? I’m stuck here with the entire De Leon family, all waiting breathlessly for me to make their golden boy the happiest man in the world by agreeing to this farce. It’s a damn ambush. “Okay,” I whisper, the room blurring as the tears I’m fighting to hold back spill.

The table erupts into giddy applause and deafening cheers as Callum kisses me lightly on the lips. He wipes my wet cheeks with his thumbs, seemingly clueless to the fact that these are not tears of joy. “Love you, baby,” he whispers, and he draws me into his arms.

Chapter 19

Maeve

My social battery, which started dying soon after Callum pulled his proposal stunt, goes completely red sometime between the first and second serving of pie. I’ve been congratulated by everyone at this point, hugged and kissed and photographed to the point of exhaustion.

Paloma is the only person who seems to sense that not all is as it should be. She catches me when I’m coming out of the bathroom, her pretty face pulled into a mask of concern.

“Maeve,” she says carefully, her dark eyes looking me over as if she’s searching for signs of injury. “Are you all right?”

I paste yet another smile onto my face. “Just a little tired. It’s been such an exciting day."

She sighs, taking my hand. Her delicate fingers are cold, but gentle. “You know, you remind me a lot of myself at your age.”

“Really?” I ask, my heart giving a wild thump.

A small, sad smile graces Paloma’s deep red lips. “Do you still dance, Maeve?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Don’t stop,” she says. “You’re young—you have plenty of time to get married if that’s what you truly want. But don’t stop dancing. Don’t let anyone, not even my son, get in your way.”

Stunned, I barely register as she squeezes my hand. But I squeeze back, grateful for this moment of sanity in what feels like the most surreal of fever dreams.

Lingering at the fringes of the party for a while, I finally pull an Irish goodbye and escape to our guest room. There are so many people, and the music and chatter are so loud, that I doubt anyone will notice I’m gone anyway. I wash my face and sink into bed, finally returning Liam’s text with a silly face of my own.

Callum wakes me up when he stumbles in later. Knowing better than to be coked up around the family, he’s more than made up for it with alcohol. He’s sloppy and horny, and though sometimes too much imbibing affects how he performs, tonight he’s all over me.

“Come on, Callum, not now,” I moan, genuinely exhausted. I push my face down into the pillow but he flips me onto my back and straddles me. I try to ignore the frisson of fear that wriggles down my spine as his weight presses me into the mattress.

“You looked so good in that dress tonight,” he says, running his hands up and down my arms. “I lost count of how many people told me how beautiful you were.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” I murmur, yawning as I pat his hand.

He touches the ring he put on my finger earlier, then raises my hand to kiss it. “Fucking crazy, huh? We’re finally doing this, after all this time.”

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