Page 7 of Sam's Forever
Me – Appreciate it.
Feeling better that if they didn’t, I’d be contributing a little to his wedding, I get up when Maestro says, “Let’s go, brother, beforeyour Old Lady says fuck it and books us all on flights, no matter if the brothers agree or not.”
“She’s your sister,” I remind him. “It’s not my fault you, Chains, and Red spoilt her.”
“This is true,” Maestro grinned, “but you were the sucker that married her.”
Laughing, I follow him because he’s right; I did marry her, and not a day goes by that I regret it. Not for a single minute. There’s a lot I regret in my life, but Lizzie isn’t one of them.
CHAPTER 4
ANDY O’SHEA
Turning the cream envelope over and over in my hands, I stare at it, a little confused and uncertain. I’m not sure why I’ve been sent an invitation to the wedding of a niece I’ve never met. It’s been years since I’ve seen my family. I know from Uncle Sean that they’re all married and have children. When they came to visit, I always made sure I was away on a job.
It wasn’t that I didn’t miss my family. I did. There’s a hole in my heart that I’ve never filled. Hearing the soft tinkle of laughter, I readjust that sentiment. That isn’t true. I had a hole, but it has been filled. By the beautiful woman and little girl who both look at me like I’m their hero, even if I’m nobody’s hero. For them, I’ll try my best to be.
“Hey,” soft arms wrap around me from behind, squeezing me tightly. My hand automatically cups her hands where they rest on my belly. “What has you standing with the door open, staring into nothing?”
Not saying anything, I hand her the envelope over my shoulder. She takes it. Turning around, I look into our house and into the back garden and watch our daughter playing in the sandpit we have out back for her, knowing that tonight I’ll be out there scooping all the sand back in. I never thought I’d have this, and I am forever grateful that this woman doesn’t seem to care that I’m a complete fuck-up. She loves me anyway.
“Will we go?” she asks softly.
Looking down into her soft, kind eyes, I answer truthfully, “I don’t know.”
She bites her lip, and her gaze flits down to the invitation again before she looks up at me. “I think we should. You need to see your Da and make your peace. He’s getting older, and Sean said he’s not well.”
A heavy sigh escapes me, and I enfold my wife in my arms, taking comfort from her. Knowing she’ll never judge me, resting my head against hers, I think before I reply, “It’s been a long time. I’m not sure if they’ll want to see me.”
“Mmm,” she hums, then pushes away slightly so that she can look up at me but keeps her arms loose around my waist. “They’ve checked on you,mo ghrá,you know they care. You’re not the same man that you were when you were sent here.”
God, this woman! She’s too good for the likes of me. Why she loves me, God only knows.
Pressing my lips to her forehead and making a decision, I nod, “Okay, we’ll go.”
At her look of surprise, I say, “It’s time I introduce you to the rest of my family, especially as the baby will be here before we know it.”
Her mouth gapes open in shock, “You know?” she stammers. “How? I only found out this morning.”
Raising an eyebrow at her shock, I tell her, “You should know by now,a chroí,there is nothing about you that I don’t know. I know your body better than you do,” her cheeks flush with colour, and I chuckle. “Fuck,milseán,you are so fucking cute. I’ve known for weeks; I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
“Gah,” she groans, grinding her forehead into my chest with embarrassment. “I’m not sure how I feel that you track my period better than me,” she mumbles.
I’m laughing now; she tilts her head back, resting her chin on my chest to look at me. The overwhelming love I have for this woman rises within my chest until I have no choice but to let her know, “I love you; you aremo anamchara.”
Her gaze softens, “I couldn’t think of anyone better to tie my soul to,” she tells me.
Pressing my lips to hers, I kiss her, and the world stills like it does every time I do this. We’re broken apart by a mini tornado hitting our legs, demanding, “Da, come play.”
My woman chuckles, and I smile. Bending, I scoop our ball of energy up and blow a raspberry on her neck.
“I’m coming,mo dhuine beag.”
Pressing my lips to my wife’s one more time, I whisper, “I’ll sort that out when I’ve finished playing with our girl. You go put your feet up and rest.”
Turning, I walk into the garden and spend the rest of the afternoon playing with our daughter.
Later that night, when the house is quiet, I pick up the invite and look at the contact number for RSVPs and type up a quick message.
