Page 194 of The Thief
"I don't know what I want."
"That's okay. You don't have to decide today."
She's right. This is something I'll need to think about, discuss with Freddie. Another ghost from the past trying to find its way into our present.
"Thank you," I say. "For telling me. And for not giving her more information."
"You're family, Tríona. Real family. I protect the people I love."
The words make my chest tight with emotion. Family. Once upon a time, I thought that was something you were born into, something that couldn't be chosen or changed. Now I know better.
Family is the people who show up. The people who stay. The people who'd die for you without question and expect the same in return.
"I should get back," I say, standing. "But we should have dinner sometime. Real dinner, not wedding food."
"I'd like that. And bring Henry Stephen. Matteo's been asking about the baby he met earlier."
I make my way back through the crowd, past dancing couples and laughing children, toward the table where my real family waits. Freddie's deep in conversation with Stephen and Maverick, probably discussing security or business or one of the thousand details that keep our world running.
Henry Stephen is on Jessica's lap now, clapping along to the music with Patricia. The two babies seem to have formed some kind of alliance, communicating in a language only they understand.
"How was Vittoria?" Freddie asks when I sit down.
"Good. Happy. She said to tell you hello."
"Just hello?"
"And that Mam's been looking for me."
Freddie goes very still. "Your mother?"
"Apparently, she's been trying to find me for months. Vittoria gave her limited information."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Confused. Angry. A little curious, if I'm honest."
He nods, understanding the complexity of family relationships, of love and abandonment and the way the past never really lets go.
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know yet. Maybe nothing. Maybe call her. It's complicated."
"It always is with family."
The band starts playing something slow and romantic, and Quinn and Lorenzo take the floor for what might be their last dance as newlyweds before heading off to their honeymoon.
"Dance with me?" Freddie asks, offering his hand.
"What about Henry Stephen?"
"Jessica's got him. Don't you, Jess?"
"Of course. Patricia and I are excellent babysitters."
On the dance floor, surrounded by other couples but feeling like we're alone, I let myself think about the future we're building. Our son playing with his cousins, the baby growing inside me, the house in Dublin that's become our sanctuary.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Freddie murmurs, spinning me slowly.
