Page 58 of Save Me

I clear my throat, drawing their attention. "I'd still like to ask for your blessing," I murmur to Mac. "And I know she'd like it too. You're her hero. You have been for her entire life. I can't promise that I'll always get it right. I'll make mistakes. But I can promise you that I'll love her just as fiercely, protect her just as carefully, and treasure her just as fully as you have since the day she was born. If we have a purpose in life, she's mine, sir. Loving her is the one thing I'm not willing to fuck up."

"I'm not willing to mess it up either," Isla whispers. "If I'd have known what to ask for, it would have been him, Dad."

"Fuck," Mac mumbles, pulling her into a hug before his eyes come to me again. "You have my blessing, Brantley."

I swallow hard, my throat burning with emotion. "Thank you."

"Welcome to the family, son."

Isla squeals, flinging herself out of her dad's arms and into mine. I catch her around the waist, pressing my lips to hers in a fierce kiss, pouring my love, my gratitude, my whole goddamn soul into it.

She kisses me back the same way, tears and laughter on her lips.

"I'm so damn proud of you," she whispers. "So damn proud, Brantley."

For once…I'm pretty fucking proud of me, too.

My mother is ecstatic when we stop by to share the news that we're married. She and Isla cling to each other and cry. They both swear they're happy tears, but I'm not entirely convinced.

We stay with her late into the night before I finally take my wife home. We fall into bed, still stripping each other bare. I spend half the night lost in her, making love to her again and again. We fuck until we're too exhausted to move, and then we sleep. Only to wake up and start all over. By the time the storm finally passes, and we're satisfied, I can't feel my goddamn legs.

Isla's sprawled across my chest, a boneless, satisfied mess. Beautiful in every way.

"What happens when your mom's statement hits the papers tomorrow?" she asks quietly. "What are you going to do?"

It's a good question. I've spent my entire life with the world thinking my father was someone he wasn't. I've spent the last four years keeping his secrets regardless of the cost. Tomorrow, people will either believe the truth or they won't. That's not up to me to decide. But for once, what they hearwillbe the truth. If they want to continue giving his memory power after that, I won't be helping them do it. And neither will my mother. We'll be doing what we should have done a long fucking time ago: Beginning to heal.

"I thought I might go to a meeting," I murmur, tracing patterns on Isla's skin. "And after that, I planned to come back here and coax you back into this bed. Once I'm done making sure you're satisfied…maybe I'll hire someone to go through his office and clean it out. I'm done struggling through it, pretending I can handle it. I can't."

"I like this plan," she whispers, smiling up at me. "But you forgot an important part."

"What's that?"

"The part where you finally get to breathe."

"I didn't forget." I tip her head back, brushing my lips against hers. "I've been doing that since we decided to release the statement."

She smiles against my lips, squeezing me tight. "Do you think Bella will be okay, Brantley?" she asks a moment later, snuggling back up in my arms. "I don't think she's very okay with knowing what he did to you and your mom. It made her sad."

"That's because it is sad, little bird." It's a fucking tragedy. But unlike most tragedies, this one ends happily. At least it does for me. It does for my mother too. We survived what should have broken us. And little by little, we're picking up the pieces and building something new. Something stronger. Something beautiful.

"I imagine a lot of people are probably going to feel like she does right now," I murmur. "He lied to everyone, tricked everyone into thinking he was something he wasn't. But your sister is going to be okay. Cormac will make sure of it."

"You're going to be okay now too, you know," Isla says, pressing a sweet kiss to my chest. "I'll make sure of."

I smile, my heart pulsing in my chest because I know she means it. And because I know she's right. It doesn't fucking matter what anyone else thinks when they read my mom's statement tomorrow. The important part—the part wedesperately needed to do—was tell it. And we've done that. The only thing left now is this right here. It's Isla in my arms with my ring on her finger. And it's freedom.

Fucking hell, I can't wait to spend a lifetime drowning in it.

Epilogue

Isla

Six Years Later

"Mama."

I blink my eyes open as a little hand lands against my arm, gently shaking me. I gasp quietly when I see a little face inches from mine, big green eyes peering intently.

---