I even invited Shandi, Ariel, Martini and Daffney from Leather and Lace, who seem to be getting on like a house on fire with the Doxies, Alana and Rhys. Millie, on the other hand, is quite content sticking by her mother’s side.
I never did find out why she needed help from the Southern Sadists once upon a time, but maybe one day, when she’s ready, she’ll tell me.
Celina stepped back into the role of head Doxy, her confidence returning after Smitty was finally removed from her life, and her new companion is Molly, Smitty’s dog who walks with a permanent limp after being shot.
The only thing that still isn’t right in my life is Maggie.
She’s not here today. But with the help of the Angel sisters, she’s now getting rehabilitated at a very exclusive centre in New South Wales.
I made it very clear that under no circumstances were they to drug her.
I know she so easily helped my parents do that to me, but I won’t be that person. I know what it’s like to have control of your body taken away from you, and I will not do the same to her. Not ever.
We had a little trouble with her in the beginning when she kept trying to take her own life. But Tahli and I visited her often, and the Doxies took it upon themselves to try to help her learn the difference between the cultish upbringing she had, and what the real world is like.
It was actually Celina who formed the closest bond with her, but that may have been because of Molly. Maggie has really taken a liking to the old dog.
Still, she needed more help than we could give, so hopefully with time, a different version of her might appear.
I don’t expect her to ever forgive me. Or even like me. I just don’t want her to live a life of delusion.
There are speeches and dancing at our reception, much like last time. But this time, anxiety twists my stomach as I find the nerve to take the microphone, preparing to talk in front of everyone.
I should have done my little speech earlier when the others were done, but I just couldn’t. I completely chickened out and simply shook my head when I was asked if I wanted to say anything.
“You’ve got this,” Lexi encourages me, the only person who knows what I’m about to do.
I place my untouched glass of champagne down on the table and look over to my husband, who is happily chatting with his mates.
“What if he doesn’t want this?” I whisper, my ongoing turmoil nearly getting the better of me, which Lexi has been trying to counsel me on, and she takes my hand, giving it a supportive squeeze.
“Abs, you’ll be giving him something he’s always longed for. Of course he’s going to be happy.”
I nod, trying to convince myself that she’s right. He’s mentioned it before, but we haven’t discussed it again.
With the mic in hand, I step out into the middle of the room, and Lexi shuts off the music so I can rip off the bandaid.
“Uhhh, can I have everyone’s attention, please?” I say, and the chattering crowd falls to a hush as all eyes turn to me.
Even my husband’s.
“Mummy!” Bobbi calls from Alana’s arms, her little hand waving to me, her smile wide, reminding me, not for the first time, of someone I’d rather not think of.
I don’t need a DNA test to know who her biological father is. It’s becoming more and more obvious every single day, but we still had testing done late last year.
I was concerned because of the whole Daniel thing. That if she was born from incest, she might have some sort of genetic defects or something.
But no, Daniel wasn’t her father.
Tim Beck was.
If I had to choose one of those bastards to be her bio dad, then it’s definitely him. He wasn’t necessarily a cruel person. Just a follower. Someone that would do what he was told to do just so he could fit in.
It doesn’t mean what he did to me is right, but I’m thankful Bobbi’s father wasn’t Daniel. Or any of the others.
Still, in my heart, the only father that matters is Ringo, a man who is fiercely protective, with a hard exterior, and a big softy on the inside.
The perfect man to be a father.
