“Yep. It was really the most anticlimactic thing ever. Just a brief business meeting, really.” Lily shrugs, like it’s no big deal. But I know my best friend, she’s a romantic at heart, just like me. She’s disappointed about this, about the way her life has gone. It’s nothing like we dreamed of.
I’m suddenly very thankful that Kerry was so adamant about me having my dream wedding. It was nothing extravagant, but it was way more than a five minute meeting like Lily described. In a way, I'm glad that my grandparents pulled the rug out from under me so that our wedding didn’t end up likethat.
Knowing Kerry and his obsession with me, I doubt that he’d ever let that happen, not in the long run. We’d renew our vows orsomething,I have no doubt.
If only Lily could count on having the same thing.
21
Kerry
Half of the feckin’ Nameless are staying in my house tonight. Whose idea was this? It’s our feckin’ wedding night! I’ve put them as far away from the master bedroom as possible, but I’m still worried that Amy may feel anxious about fullyenjoying ourselveswith others around.
Not that she minded Alessandro being in the house the last time I made her scream, but perhaps she’ll feel differently when there’s more people, including her best friend.
I tap my fingers against the table for the bride and groom, feeling the white tablecloth against my fingertips. I should’ve thought about the little detail of our lack of privacy and gotten a separate place for tonight. Or insisted that no one be in the house with us. Amy certainly had enough to worry about, no,I’mthe damn dope for not thinking about it sooner.
The catering company brings out the first course, a fresh spinach, beet, and feta cheese salad. Amy reaches over and lays her hand over mine, stilling my restless movements. She’s not even looking my way, too busy chatting with Liam and Jack about some Korean television show, but she still sensed myunease and sought to fix it. I let out a long exhale, instantly feeling the tension that was squeezing my chest loosen.
A soup is served next, a guinness stew in a cheesy bread bowl. I’m pretty sure that Marjorie almost popped a blood vessel with happiness when Amy asked for it. Apparently she’d really liked the stew Marjorie had made for us when we first arrived in Ireland.
“It was so cute that he took the origami that she left in the telephone booth,” Liam says with a wistful sigh.
“Yeah, but that’s how she found out his true identity,so maybe it wasn’t so smart,” Jack counters, crossing his arms.
Amy reaches over with the hand that isn’t intertwined with mine to pat Jack’s arm. “Sometimes you do stupid stuff when you’re in love. That’s the beauty of it.”
I have no idea what they’re talking about, but Amy’s words make me think. She’s not wrong. I used to focus only on logic and efficiency, but that’s only one line of thinking I must consider now that Amy’s in the picture. My world is much bigger now with her in it.
Amy gasps. “We should make Kerry watch it!”
Oh no.
Liam’s entire face brightens like a child on Christmas. “Brilliant idea, lady!”
I glare at my two right-hand men in hopes he’ll get the message to knock it off.
They don’t.
Annoying bastards.
They conspire to when this coerced activity will take place as the main course arrives, a rich and creamy lobster ravioli. Across the garden, Alessandro is loudly complaining that the pasta is overcooked. Something I’m sure that he’ll be sure to let me know all about the first chance he gets.
As I glance around, looking at all these people that have gathered to celebrate Amy and I’s union, a feeling of gratitude wells up within me. I’ve always been rather irritated by people—and still am, for the record—but I am thankful that they’re here, supporting us, and being somewhat pleasant to be around.
Although they’re still mostly annoying.
By the time we’re finishing up dessert—apple cake with warm custard—a band comes out to play music for us. It takes all of two seconds before Liam has dragged Marjorie out onto the patio-turned-dance floor and is swinging her around. My aunt does not look pleased. I can’t blame her, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be enjoying this while it lasts.
Amy pokes me in the arm. I turn and grin at her. “Hm, love?”
“Can we dance?” She leans in to whisper in my ear.
Before Amy, I could think of nothing as horrific as that. But now? Sounds like a feckin’ delight.
I don’t notice it getting dark out. I don’t even notice when our guests begin to trickle out. My mind is consumed with Amy in my arms and the rhythm of the fiddle.
By the time Amy waves me off before another song can start, laughing as she tries to catch her breath, most everyone is gone, and the staff Marjorie hired has cleaned up everything.
