“Got what?” Drew chuckles as she watches Blade.
I nip her neck and whisper, “The perfect fucking building right next door to Carnage Tats that I’ve just purchased with cash. We found several students who want to join Little Bird’s Ballet, most hoping to make it big as you did. Best part, none of them know it’s medal-winning and Broadway dancer Drew Taylor, soon to be Martinez that will be their teacher. When word gets out, you’ll have dozens of moms trying to sign their kids up.”
Drew spins in my arms, her eyes wide, and I grin at her and state, “After everything that you’ve had to deal with where your mom was concerned, your sister, I wanted to do something for you because you are already doing so fucking much for me. Showing me how much you fucking love me every single day, willing to leave your hometown, the kids you love, your passion, just to be with me. I want you happy always, baby.”
“It helps that you’ve got a big house with a wraparound porch,” she jokes.
I chuckle and press my lips against hers once again.
This fucking woman—since the day she came into my life, I’ve grown as a person. I’ve learned to forgive myself and understand what happened wasn’t my fault. I’ve learned to love with my whole heart and heal myself with her standing by my side making me feel really fucking grateful.
She’s my rock, and I’m her pillar, always and I can’t wait to build a life with her.
Chapter 29
Drew
My eyes tear up as I look at myself in the full-length mirror, the princess skater dress that just hides my little bump. It suits me much better than the floor-length gown mom wanted me to wear.
I’ve got on some white wedges, my makeup is minimal, and my hair is down and slightly curled.
It’s the ballerina in me and it is perfect.
“Okay, I relent, this dress suits you better,” mom grumbles from behind me, and I chuckle slightly despite the tension between us that just keeps on building.
I’m in the minister's office while Bellamy waits inside the church along with the Dark Angels because, apparently, Mom insisted on a church wedding. The county hall is not goodenough in her eyes and I relented until she made another request that had me questioning her motives.
“I feel pretty,” I murmur, eyeing the simple light purple diamond engagement ring Bellamy gave me yesterday after we’d found out the sex of our baby. It was the first time since finding out I was pregnant, I was excited.
I envisioned a boy like Bellamy, riding dirt bikes, then a girl who danced while riding. When they said what we were having, I cried—seeing only Bellamy's excitement, guilt gone.
He’s healing… no, he’s letting himself heal.
“Thank you for allowing your sister to be here today, Drew,” Mom whispers, and I hum but don’t vocally say anything because there isn’t anything to say without hurting her.
For years, mom placated my sister until Elizabeth decided to screw Drake as a way to hurt me simply for existing. I realized yesterday that Mom was more upset at the embarrassment and not the hurt she was doing to me. Mom said mean things about me to make Elizabeth happy, making Elizabeth feel like I was unimportant and that she could have everything I had, including my wages if I had still lived at home and worked.
Yesterday, while I was in a happy mood, about to announce the sex of our baby, my mom pleaded with me to let my sister Elizabeth come to the wedding. She promised Elizabeth would be on her best behavior and I was shocked, so was Dad.
Mom had just discharged Elizabeth from the psychiatric ward against my dad's wishes and when we got home. We walked in shocked to see a pissed off Dad and my sister sitting on the couch eyeing my fiancé as soon as she saw him. She looked angrier than ever when she noticed my bump, and I didn’t get to announce what we were having.
“Drew,” Mom tries, but she’s cut off when Dad opens the door.
He looks at Mom and scowls, making her flinch, and I sigh as he looks my way.
“Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” he whispers, and I smile and return, “Thank you, Daddy…”
His eyes tear up, and he holds his arm up and asks, “You ready?”
I grin and admit, “More than ready,” as I walk over to him and take his arm while Mom follows, sulking because I refused to hold her arm down the aisle, instead she’ll be walking behind us.
I love my mother, I do, but yet again, something that is supposed to be about me, she’s made it about my sister. My sister, who is younger than me, tried to punch my stomach, and I don’t know how to forgive her this time, especially when I thought she was trying over the last few years.
Soft music plays—the same tune I was dancing to the first time Bellamy spoke to me and I grin widely, tears in my eyes, as Dad escorts me down the aisle. My soon-to-be husband stands in slacks, a black button-down shirt with a few buttons undone, showing off his tattoos and his cut. Blade, dressed similarly, stands beside him with a massive grin.
My sister glares at me, Viper and Venom on either side of her and I relax, certain my baby and I are safe.
I never should have let my mother guilt-trip me into allowing her to be here.
