We eat as he describes how their relationship evolved. How he took her on her first trip out of the country to Ireland. How he enjoyed seeing the world through her eyes, and how she was so passionate and curious about everything. And fearless.
At one point, he sets his fork down and his expression turns serious. “It’s probably my fault she ran and didn’t tell me about you, Lennon. As you know, I was married. Mary and I, we already had Bran and Sully. When she left me, Mary was pregnant with Killian. I always thought that’s why she fled. Because there was proof I was sleeping with my wife, and she felt betrayed.” He smiles sadly. “I was a selfish bastard, but I decided to let her go.”
So, Killian and I are the same age.Yeah, I could see how that would’ve hurt my mother. “Did you love her?”
He meets my eye and lets me see his regret. “Aye. I always will.”
I glance at Killian and Sully. Does it bother them to hear that? Are they protective of their mother? I can’t tell.
Three hours go by in a flash.
When it’s time to say goodbye, Mac takes my hand once again. “I would like to walk you down the aisle, Lennon. If that is not acceptable to you, I would like to at least be a guest at the wedding.”
I bite my lip. I’m emotionally drained and too tired to make a decision right now. “I’ll call you in a few days.”
He pats my hand. “Of course.”
As soon as we settle in the backseat, I dig the envelope out of my purse. Peeking inside, I see it’s a 5x7 photograph. Pulling it out, I stare at it, my heart skipping a few beats.
It’s a younger Mac and my mother, standing on a cobblestone street. She has her arms wrapped around his waist, her hair is long and blowing behind her. Her face is tilted up to smile at him. He’s looking down at her with a wider smile.
“They do look like they’re in love,” Sandro says from beside me.
“Yeah.” My chest aches. I miss my mom so much and getting this glimpse into a time in her life she never shared with me is both exciting and painful. I stroke her face. “She was happy with him.”
Did I ruin it for her? If she hadn’t gotten pregnant with me, would she have stayed with him? Lived her life as his mistress?
Sandro places a finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. His worried gaze is studying my face. “What’s that look, Angel? Tell me what’s going through your head.”
I rest my head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I just wonder if she would’ve been happier if she would’ve stayed with Mac. If she wouldn’t have had me. She was so lonely all my life. The only thing she did was work.”
“That was her choice. Looking into the past and second-guessing other people’s choices is a recipe for pain.” He kisses the top of my head. “But I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty she never regretted having you, Lennon.” Shifting, he slides one arm beneath my shoulders and one beneath my thighs, pulling me onto his lap. “And I for one am extremely fuckin thankful that she did.”
I forget all about my guilt as Sandro’s mouth dips to mine.
Chapter 47
Lennon
The day is finally here. I’m in the get-ready room of Bella Castello, clutching my white Calla Lilly bouquet. My hair and makeup are finished, the candid photographs of us girls have been taken.
I can’t believe Sandro pulled all this off in three weeks. Especially getting this venue, which is always booked out a year in advance. Guess being a scary billionaire mafia Don has its perks.
Look at you making jokes about your dangerous new lifestyle, Lennon.Mom always said coping skills are learned the hard way.
I would’ve settled for a courthouse wedding with a few witnesses, but he didn’t want me to regret not having a real wedding. I have to admit, I’m going to cherish this day forever. The only thing missing is Mom.
I blink hard and stare at the ceiling, trying not to ruin my eye makeup.
“You look absolutely stunning,” Sloane says, gently pushing my curls off my shoulder with the hand not holding a champagne glass.
The hairdresser left it half-down with the rest in a fancy twist on top of my head, held with sparkly gold bobby pins. My dress is vintage, strapless, white silk with a thigh-high slit, showing off a gold-beaded underlayer when I walk.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
I take one more glance at myself in the full-length mirror. “I am. It still feels like a dream, but I’m ready.”
She catches my eye in the mirror and smiles. “You deserve this.”
