This time, she leads me away from Bronx’s side and doesn’t let go of my arm as she guides me toward the dining table.
“Look,” she says. “I know we didn’t get off to the best start…but you have my gratitude. If you ever need anything, I’m here. Livvie has settled into our way of life with a little help from me. I’d be happy to help you, too.”
“Okay.” I smile, not knowing what else to say.
I still don’t know if I can trust the woman and the last thing I want to be is a contained wife who attends charity functions for the rest of my days. That’s not who I am.
Lorenzo strolls towards us with a whiskey in one hand and a fat cigar in the other.
“You’re looking well, Tierney.” He tilts his tumbler in my direction. “Seems like we made the right call bringing you into the family. Never thought I’d see the day Bronx settled down.”
The rest of the family filters in behind us and takes their seats as two servers skirt the room with bottles of champagne, ready to refill empty flutes.
Bronx pulls my chair out, his hand brushing against my spine as I sit, the contact brief but grounding.
His mother clears her throat once everyone is in position, lifting her tall-stemmed glass as her gaze settles on me.
“I’d like to welcome our new daughter-in-law into the family,” she says, nodding in my direction. “We are indebted to you, Tierney Viacava. You’re a fitting wife for my son.”
When she glances at Bronx, a faint smile plays on her lips.
“I hope you’ll give us grandchildren soon.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and I almost choke on my saliva.
My stitches haven’t even dissolved yet, and she wants me to go through childbirth. Kids aren’t something I’ve ever thought about. And now that I am thinking about it, it’s not something Bronx and I have ever discussed.
I glance at him while glasses lift around the table.
“To Tierney,” Livvie says the loudest.
“To Tierney,” I hear Reign say further along the table.
I raise mine with the rest of them, forcing composure, even as Bronx’s hand settles on my thigh beneath the table, fingers pressing just enough to anchor me.
Christ, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
My grip tightens around the stem of my glass and my pulse spikes.
Connor catches my eye after he takes a long drink of the champagne. There’s a sadness in his eyes that could be regret, or maybe he understands I belong with Bronx now. That I’ve stepped into a new family…and left da behind without looking back.
For a second, there’s a tightness in my ribs, not like guilt, but the weight of everything finally settling.
This is what I have to do. It’s what moving on means.
I glance around the table, at the easy way they all speak to each other and the absence of tension that I grew up thinking was normal.
And it hits me like a slap.
This is what being part of a family should be like.
The moment passes as the servers move into the room, placing dishes in front of us. The conversation grows louder as everyone turns their attention to the pasta.
When I reach for my fork, Bronx’s fingers skim, gliding closer to the apex of my thighs without being obvious.
My breath hitches, and I swallow hard.
“Stop it,” I mutter, barely moving my lips.
