Page 5 of Surrender
To Nan, Sophie might as well have been her own daughter. She’d never said it outright—wouldn’t dare, for fear of hurting her nephews—but Sophie had always been her soft spot.
And now here she was, married to the lad she was always meant to be with, the sun shining down like a blessing, and the garden full of people who loved them.
It was, as weddings go, pretty damn perfect.
The garden had transformed from tranquil ceremony to joyful revelry. Lanterns swayed in the trees like glowing blossoms, their soft amber light twinkling over guests sipping drinks and twirling to music beneath a sky that had darkened to a deep, velvety indigo. The scent of flowers lingered in the air, now mingled with roasted lamb, whiskey, and the faintest whiff of the sea breeze drifting in from the cliffs.
Sophie and Liam were at the heart of it all.
She had changed into a tea-length lace dress—still white, still beautiful—her hair swept up and pinned with wildflowers from her aunt’s garden. Liam hadn’t taken his eyes off her once. They floated from guest to guest, arms entwined, laughing at old stories, stealing kisses whether someone was looking or not.
They danced to everything—from slow ballads to upbeat reels—and when the music switched to their first dance song--a surprise chosen by Sophie herself-- the crowd instinctively fell silent.
Liam laughed when the opening bars of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” began to play. “Elvis, huh?”
Sophie shrugged with a smile. “I wanted a classic.”
“You are a classic.”
And then they danced.
It wasn’t rehearsed or even that graceful, but it was them. He held her like she was everything, and she looked at him like he was home. Around them, their family and friends swayed along, many wiping tears or beaming like fools.
Keefe watched with a mixture of pride and wistful envy. He was happy—so happy—for his sister. But there was a quiet ache too. Not jealousy exactly, but a longing for something like that for himself.
Eventually, he sank down into a chair beside Simon, drink in hand, his tie now hanging undone.
Simon had his arm wrapped snugly around Sondra, who, as per usual, was deep into his personal space. She leaned in close, whispering sweet nothings that made Simon blush and grin.
Sondra, never one for discretion, let her hand wander up Simon’s thigh.
Keefe didn’t even blink. “Christ alive, could you two not find a closet or something?”
Sondra stuck out her tongue and nibbled Simon’s ear, making him groan like he’d been blessed by the gods before standing up. “I’m going to get another drink. You boys behave,” she sang, wobbling slightly as she made her way toward the bar.
Simon leaned toward Keefe. “Right, so, what’s chewing on you?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure, and I’m the Archbishop of Dublin.”
Keefe sighed. He looked back toward the dance floor where Sophie and Liam had joined hands with Caitríona and Ronan for a traditional circle dance. Sophie was glowing, her flushed cheeks, eyes bright, the happiest he’d ever seen her. She laughed at something Liam said, the sound like birdsong on a spring morning.
“They’re good together,” Keefe said softly. “Better than good. I don’t know why it took them so long, but it feels like everything’s finally right.”
Simon nodded, taking a sip of his pint. “It’s a damn good thing to see, isn’t it?”
Keefe gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah. It is. It really is.”
Simon raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s stopping you from finding that for yourself?”
Keefe gave him a look. “Are you kidding? Every girl I bring home, Sophie runs off within the first five minutes. The last one, she threw the girl’s purse out the front door and locked her out.”
Simon winced. “Yikes.”
“In Sophie’s defense, she was right. My taste in women is… questionable.”
They both looked up as Sophie passed, laughing with Aunt Nan, her hand still wrapped tightly in Liam’s. She looked over and winked at Keefe.
