He glances around. “Is Ellie about?”
“Rose took her upstairs to bed when Glenda showed up.”
“Good. And don’t worry, she’s going to convince Cole not to petition for Ellie to be returned to him in the interim. But it can still happen.”
“How’d you do it?” I ask again. Normally, I don’t care for details on his tactics, but Glenda isn’t easily manipulated. I need to make sure his threat is rock solid. And legal.
“Courts generally have strict protections against minors being approached or manipulated. All I had to do was tell her how much she upset Ellie that day, and she knew enough to know I’d use it should my client decide to sue her personally.” He smirks.
“You’re worth every penny.”
He slaps my shoulder twice and nods to the stairs. “Now, while you’ve got their attention.”
I sigh and let go of Willow’s hand. She stands aside with a tentative grin. “Good luck,” she murmurs.
I swipe my bottom lip, then move up a few levels on the stairs, making nearly every head in the room turn. “Thank you all again for coming. We are .?.?.” I glance at Wilder, who’s wincing on my behalf. “.?.?. overjoyed, with such enthusiasm for .?.?. this wedding.”
Crickets.
I stare back at the same faces I last saw at Millie’s funeral barely seven months ago. The same faces the two of us imagined watching us with happy tears and wide grins as we danced at our wedding.
My gut twists.
My lips burn.
I fight back a swallow and scoff at the crowd. “Frankly, I think y’all must be pretty bored to make such a fuss over us. Guess there was no game on tonight?”
One .?.?. maybe two laughs.
Tough crowd.
I catch Dad leaning against the back wall, his head shaking lightly.
Be real.
The hell does he expect me to be real about? This isn’t how I pictured it. The pressure, the lies. The consequences. This isn’t even the woman I—
My eyes sting and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry.” I suck in a sharp breath. “The truth is, Willow is a .?.?. beautiful soul.” I swallow the lump, glancing at her. “Who saved me.” A chuckle escapes and I sniff. “Think we all know this wasn’t the wedding y’all were expecting this fall.” I watch their faces, the sad subtle shakes of their heads. The motion takes me back to the dark day I buried her. These same heads lowered with sorrow and grief.
“Neither was I.” I grip the stair rail like I might fall over. “I’ll always love Millie,” I breathe, my nose tingling again. “Y’all know that. But life had other plans. In the shape of a seven-year-old, who many of you—all right, all of you—know came to me when I thought I’d lost everything. She not only got me back on my feet, but she showed me a new kind of love, with just her voice, her trust, her eyes.” I press my hand to my chest. “One I’d no doubt die without.” A handful of guests glance at Willow—a gentle reminder that they’re not here to celebrate the life I’m building with my daughter. They’re here for her—and me. They’re all waiting for a reason there’s a wedding after all—and I need to give it to them. “Just when I thought she was all I needed .?.?.” I release a breath and shift my gaze to Willow for a moment. The woman who’s been breaking down the iron gates I’ve locked my heart inside. “My heart made a little extra room.”
A soft murmur ricochets around the crowd. It’s almost deafening and Willow blushes at the sudden head turns.
I take advantage of the momentary pause in their attention to look at Dad.
His eyes are misty and he’s nodding with approval.
“If you remember Millie, you know she loved people, loved a good party just like this.” I smile at her memory. “And while Willow’s not big on crowds .?.?. she’s got a big heart, with plenty of room for all of you.”
“Just not all at once,” she calls out, that voice growing a little raspier, that smile not quite meeting her eyes anymore.
Still, her response gets a laugh from everyone in the room.
When the heat of everyone’s eyes shift back to me, her shoulders ease, her stiff smile falls.
And that does it.
I’m done letting her burn herself out for a crowd of strangers.
