"We've been at odds and it's my fault." Victoria clasped her hands in front of her. "I want to be part of those babies lives. I want to try and be part of yours." She loosened her hands and clasped them again.
"I did love your father. At first. I did love him, but then I became pregnant."
"And you didn't want a child."
"No." She shook her head. "It wasn't the right time for it and I--" She pursed her lips. "It doesn't matter. You make a lovely bride."
"Thanks. Now I really have to go, I cannot be late for my own wedding."
"Of course." She turned towards the door and then turned back around. "I want us to try and have a relationship Kiara."
Kiara wondered at the fact that she felt nothing, when for most of her life until recently she had hoped and prayed desperately that her mother would reach out to her.
"We'll see. I'm glad you could make it."
Victoria nodded, feeling the shaft of pain settling inside her. She had spent nights regretting her behavior and the fact that she had turned away from her own daughter. She had been having some weird dreams of her husband and his disapproval of her had been so palpable, she could swear he was in the same room with her.
"I'll see you downstairs." She left and close the doors quietly behind her and just stood there for a few minutes, trying to get her bearings.
Kiara paused, the weight of recent words lingering in the air. She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves swirling within her. The soft light from the window caught the shimmer of her dress, and for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine the future unfolding. A new family, new beginnings, and the possibility of healing old wounds.
She squared her shoulders, determined to step forward with grace, no matter what came next.
"I'm sure Kiara will be okay." Maeve placed a hand on her son's shoulder, partly to hold him there and for comfort. "She said she just wanted to talk to her daughter and she has that right."
His expression was grim. "Not after what she put her through. I should go up--"
"No." Maeve turned him to face her and started fiddling with his tie. "How handsome you look." Her eyes were moist. "And how proud I am of you." She brushed at an invisible lint on his left shoulder.
Stepping back, she admired the classic black tux that brought out the sheen in his hair. A sprig of gardenia was tucked into the lapel.
"You have made me a very happy woman."
"I'm sure I have. Ah mom, please don't cry." He searched and found a handkerchief tucked in the breast pocket of his jacket and dabbed at her cheeks.
"I'm entitled to shed tears when my only son is getting married." She took his hands in hers and smiled. "Plus, you're giving me two grandbabies."
He laughed softly, a nervous edge in his voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath his calm exterior. "I just want everything to go right for her today," he admitted, glancingtoward the staircase as if willing Kiara to appear. "She deserves that much."
Maeve squeezed his shoulder gently, her smile reassuring, and together they lingered in the quiet moment, grounding themselves before the whirlwind of the ceremony would sweep them along.
"You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen. Please don't tell my Maeve, she'd skin me alive." Padric grinned as he tucked her hand through his arm and squeezed her fingers.
"My lips are sealed." Her eyes glowed as she looked up at him. Her heart turned over at the bemused look on his lined face and the love shining there.
"I regret not having my dad here, but there is no one I would rather have walking me down the aisle than you."
The blush staining his wide face had her leaning against him.
"You're my daughter, I hope you know how much Maeve and I love you."
"I do. Thanks."
Patting her hand, he cleared his throat. "Now let's go before that son of mine sends out the search party."
As the music drifted softly from the hall below, Kiara glanced once more at her reflection, searching for comfort in the steady rhythm of her own breath. She could hear the faint hum of voices and laughter, signaling that the world outside was moving forward, ready for celebration. With each step toward the door, she felt the past loosening its grip, replaced by the promise of hope and the warmth of family waiting for her arrival.
He gazed at the familiar faces scattered with those of those who had flown in from Ireland for the ceremony. The ceremony was being held on the grounds of his home, but the reception was going to be at the recently opened pub. It had been Kiara's idea to have an Irish setting for their wedding, and it had pleased his family.
