Page 158 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
I cross the room and kiss his cheek. “Ask me in five minutes.”
“Want a shot? I won’t tell Padraig.” He winks.
“Give me your arm instead.”
Dad juts out his elbow with mock formality. Joni presses my bouquet into my palm. No roses. No peonies. More delphinium, a sprig or two of garden jasmine, some sweet peas all tied together with the other ribbon from Mom’s dress.
We move toward the stairs in a cluster. Joni runs back to fetch shoes I forgot to put on in my haze. Lila and Isla fall in behind me as we go downstairs and through the kitchen to the backdoor.
Mom strung a length of muslin between the plum tree and the fence to soften the light near the arch Cillian built for us. Padraig’s brothers wound cafe bulbs across the yard last night, and set up tables and chairs until midnight.
Voices drift over the hedge from next door where the McGloughlins must be in the middle of their own pre-ceremony circus. Seamus laughs at Marcella shushing Elias, who’s singing some song at the top of his lungs. Brennan and Cillian argue over grill duties. Rory grumbles about needing an extension cord and Maureen tells him to hush before he trips over one.
I catch sight of Liam slipping through the opening with his guitar. He lifts his gaze long enough to meet mine, a flicker of a smile slides across his mouth. He looks happy, peaceful. Almost like the boy he once was before everything…
Isla leans in. “You look beautiful. I’m glad you two will finally make it official.”
Tears threaten to spill so I look up and blink rapidly before kissing her hair. “Thanks, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Everyone ready?” Dad asks.
“I think so. Where are Teagan, Torin, Tristan, and Raff?”
“Not a smudge between the four of them.” Ronni and Mara guide the kids, who are tossing flowers and carrying rings.
We line up and the doors open. Conversation hushes into a tide that recedes and returns. Liam strums a melody he wrote at nineteen and pretends isn’t about us even though everyone knows it is.
I spot him under the arch.
Padraig wears a suit in soft charcoal. White shirt open at the throat with no tie. His boots are polished and his hair is tucked behind his ears. He’s the same boy on the school bus with drumsticks in his back pocket and charcoal under his nails because he sketched when he should have been in algebra.
When he sees me, he beams. Wipes his eyes on his sleeve.
Teagan sprinkles the path ahead with petals. Isla, Lila, Jude, and Seamus serve as our bridal party. Dad steps forward with measured care. I hold on to his arm, then let go when the pathnarrows and we stop beside Padraig and he hands me over to my man.
Liam switches keys without showmanship and folds his melody into silence. The officiant clears his throat, and we say our vows in front of our families. We exchange rings without fanfare. Our kiss isn’t cinematic. No dip. Simple but passionate, we press our lips together while everyone cheers.
We turn toward our families as someone pops a cork on sparkling cider. Tables fill without drama. Maureen’s feast is carried to the buffet by Padraig’s brothers. Slow-roasted beef, salmon with dill, buttery new potatoes, and bright summer vegetables. At the center of it all waits our two-tiered wedding cake. One layer lemon cheesecake. The other chocolate fudge.
Our families fill their plates with food. Padraig carries Kellan to join us at the head of the table where he and I are sitting. Stories start without anyone having to ask for a prompt. Rory starts the toasts—or roasts, because all of the brothers slag Padraig and me to death. By the end of it, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard.
I’m surprised when Isla stands and grabs the mike.
“So, this isn’t a speech, I’d call it a vow.” Her gaze steadies on us. “The past will always be part of me, but it no longer holds me back. What matters now is the love I see between you, and the way it pulls us forward. I believe in it. I believe in us. I’ll keep choosing this family, every day. I promise.”
No one claps. Applause would flatten it. I lean on Padraig’s shoulder, he wraps his arm around me. I’m overcome with emotion and gratitude. Rory bows his head over his water, he’s a man who knows what vows mean when they’re spoken for real. Ma presses the corner of a napkin to her eye. My mom blows me a kiss.
Dusk folds across the yard. Café bulbs spark to life, softening every face. Liam moves to the edge of the deck. Connor andAvonna join them and they play a medley of LTZ and Fireball songs with a sprinkling of other hits thrown in. Padraig’s hand slips into mine beneath the table, his thumb traces the ridge where my wedding ring now sits, as if he’s reminding himself this moment belongs to both of us.
It's not a dream anymore. We’re finally married. It only took us twenty-plus years to get here.
“I love you.” He nuzzles my neck. “Dance with me.”
We stand and he holds his hand out. The air pulses with our love and all we’ve endured. From our youth and breakup. passionate nights to days where silence cut sharper than words, mornings when Kellan’s laugh stitched me back together cell by cell, hours in quiet rooms where therapy gave us permission to speak and to heal.
It all lives in the fabric of our blended family, woven into the scent of roses. Illuminated by the glow of the bulbs strung overhead and the energy of our amazing extended family.
