“We could use you, Wilder.” I slump into a nearby chair as Jaxson goes on. “This case is too big for Soter to handle alone. Fynn needs the best going after him. Soter’s too green, Wendy’s too cold. I just… Wilder,please.”
“Whoa, calm down,” I say, sitting up straighter. “I trust Soter, and you should, too. Besides, you’re on this case as well. Believe in your abilities. I’ve heard nothing but praise from Wendy every time your name comes up. You can do this, Jax.”
“I only trust you.”
“I need to be here for Leigh. That boy having the same name as her brother spooked her.”
Jaxson looks at me, disappointment clear in his eyes. “If Leigh is right for you, why does she want you to give up something you love? Being a Blade is in your blood.”
“Leigh isn’t making me give up anything. I’m doing it for her.”
“Make me understand.”
“My parents were great at their jobs, maybe even the best, but at what cost? Desiree and I barely saw them. When we did, they were exhausted and miserable.” I don’t comment on how I almost succumbed to the same temptation five minutes ago. “That’s not the husband I want to be. I’m not sacrificing my happiness for my career. We’ve postponed this wedding multiple times already. If it doesn’t happen tomorrow, I doubt it ever will.”
Jax inhales a shaky breath. “I get it, but you’re not Moran, and Leigh isn’t your mom.”
“And that missing boy isn’t Marcus or Xavier,” I reply, mentioning his younger brothers.
I leave to check on Leigh, but Jaxson’s words echo after me. Am I making a mistake?
I tidyLeigh’s room for tomorrow’s festivities, smoothing her bedsheets and organizing the scattered jewelry on her antique vanity. Janus came and found me at the party not long ago. She asked me to go to Leigh, insisting she needed her mother but refused to say why. By the time I found her, Leigh was distraught, so I convinced her to take a hot shower to help her relax. Hopefully, she’s scrubbing away her worries.
Entering her closet, I pick up the dress she wore tonight and place it in the hamper. The garment bag holding her wedding dress hangs nearby. I was there for her first and last fittings with the designer, and the dress is nothing short of elegant and refined, just like her. Even during her wild phase with boys and booze, Leigh still exuded grace. She’s carried herself like a queen her entire life and deserves all the happiness I almost took from her.
Looking at her dress reminds me of my own wedding—and the lies that followed. When I agreed to marry Gwyn, I was already pregnant with Don’s child. Gwyn and I lied to everyone about Fynn’s parentage, choosing to protect our son and our family’s reputation rather than admit the truth.
Lying to Fynn will forever be one of the biggest regrets of my life, but before Leigh helped her father’s ghost cross over, Gwynhelped me work through a lot of the shame. Thanks to him, my daughter and I now have a relationship.
I love Leigh, but I still miss Fynn every day.
My son. My perfect boy.
Except it’s not about Fynn. This weekend is about Leigh, so I feel responsible for helping fix whatever’s bothering her. I owe it to her after years of neglect.
The shower shuts off just as someone knocks on the door. I walk past the dress to answer, blinking back tears for my broken family.
“Yes?” I say, coming face-to-face with Wilder. His eyes are red, and he looks tired and resigned. Did he and Leigh fight?
“I came to check on Leigh. Is she here?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Did you two fight?”
Wilder balks. “No.”
I study him. Satisfied he’s telling the truth, I say, “You two can survive one night apart.” Wilder opens his mouth to protest, but I shake my head. “I mean it, go back to your room. If I find you camped out on the floor when I leave, I will not hesitate to drag you downstairs by the skin of your ear. My daughter needs rest.”
Hesitation flickers across his face. But eventually, he nods. “I’m here if she needs me.”
“She knows.”
I close the door as Leigh steps out of the bathroom and sits on her bed in a silk robe. Her hair is unwashed, hanging in limp waves. She’s distracted. I sit beside her silently, studying her eyes, which are so much like her father’s. It hurt me to look at them after his death.
“Cold feet?” I ask softly.
Leigh blinks. “What? Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“Say the word, and we’ll run away,” I say with a smile, though I am serious. No one ever gave me a choice whenit came to my marriage. I was raised to be Gwyn Raelyn’s wife—serious, studious, and accomplished. Desperate to please everyone around me, I earned perfect grades, mastered multiple instruments, and did everything possible to become the queen Gwyn would need me to be.
