Page 36 of Faithless Vows

I shove myself upright. The room tilts, and I grip the edge of the mattress until it stops moving. Then I swing my legs over the side and force myself to my feet. My suit lies crumpled where I dropped it last night. I step over it and head for the dresser. Most of my clothes are already at the new house, but I find an old pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt shoved into the back of one drawer. They smell musty, but they’ll do. I pull them on and shove my feet into yesterday’s dress shoes.

I head downstairs, raking a hand through my hair as I go. By the front door, the keys to the Cadillac and the Ford hang side by side. I take the Ford’s. The Cadillac can sit in the garage until after Italy. Then I’ll get rid of the fucking thing. I don’t want Alannah in it again. Not after what happened in the back seat.

On the drive to the hotel, yesterday comes back in pieces. Danny’s scoff. Dragging Alannah into the ballroom. Her crying beside me while I took Kathleen’s hand in front of the wholeroom. Then the hours I spent alone in that hole-in-the-wall bar, working my way through a bottle of Jameson until they closed.

I fucked up. I took it too far.

Still, it had to be dealt with. Alannah couldn’t question me like that in front of one of my men. We needed to get this straight before we started our life together.

By now, she’ll have had the whole night to cool off in the honeymoon suite. Things always look different in the morning.

I’ll go straight to our room, keep my temper in check, and apologize for the scene. Then I’ll explain what happened with Kathleen at the stag—that it was a drunken mistake and didn’t mean anything. It’s not as though I slept with her again last night. I left the reception and went drinking alone.

Alannah is my wife. She’s the one I chose. From here on out, I’ll do better. She loves me. She knows what we have is real. Once she hears me out, she’ll understand. She’ll be relieved I came back for her.

By the time I pull up outside the hotel, I’m certain I can fix this. I head straight for the elevators, keeping my eyes fixed ahead as I cross the lobby. Some of our guests stayed overnight, and the last thing I need is one of them cornering me over what happened. I hit the call button and wait.

When the doors open, I step inside and press the button for the top floor. The ride feels endless. I watch the numbers climb, going over how I’ll handle it when I see her.Keep it calm. Keep it simple. Don’t let it turn into another fight.By the time the elevator reaches the top floor, I’ve convinced myself I can do that. The doors open, and I step out. I turn toward the honeymoon suite—and stop.

Mick is sitting on the floor outside our door, his chin resting on his chest and his legs stretched out infront of him. I stare at him, trying to make sense of what the hell he’s doing there.

The elevator doors slide shut behind me with a dull thud, and Mick’s head snaps up. His eyes lock on mine, sharp, his jaw tight. He braces one hand against the wall and pushes himself to his feet, straightening stiffly. “You,” he growls.

“Me?” The word is out before I can stop it.

A door opens behind me. I turn at the sound and see Da step into the hallway, Seamus close behind him. Their expressions harden as they take us in. I’m about to ask what the hell is going on when Mick’s hand closes around my shoulder and hauls me back around. Before I can react, his fist slams into my cheek. Pain explodes across my face, and I go down hard on my hands and knees, blood filling my mouth.

“Jesus—” Da’s voice cuts in.

Mick lunges for me again, but Seamus grabs the front of his shirt and pins him against the wall. “That is enough!” he snaps, getting right in his son’s face.

I wipe the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand and get to my feet as Seamus forces Mick back down the hall. “Sit the fuck down!” he bellows, pointing to the floor outside the honeymoon suite. Mick sits back down against the wall, his shoulders tight, his chest still heaving, and his eyes never leave me.

Seamus turns away from Mick and strides past us, back into my parents’ suite. “I need a fucking drink,” he grumbles.

“Let’s go,” Da says beside me, his voice tired. He takes me by the arm and steers me into his suite, away from the room I came here to enter, away from Alannah. I want to pull free and go straight to her, but maybe she told them she doesn’t want to see me yet. Barging in there will only make things worse. The door shuts behind us, cutting off the hallway—and whatever the hell just happened out there.

He keeps hold of my arm until we reach the sofa in the small sitting area, then pushes me down onto it. “You can’t say you didn’t have that coming,” he mutters. “Sit still. I’ll get you some ice for that cheek.”

As Da moves away, I catch sight of Mam and Siobhán at the dining table. Their chairs are pressed close together, Mam’sarm wrapped around Siobhán’s shoulders. Two teacups sit untouched in front of them, thin curls of steam rising from both.

Mam looks at me for a long moment. Her eyes are tired, dark circles beneath them, and her face is drawn. She doesn’t say a word. Then she looks away. My stomach tightens. Mam has never looked at me like that before.

I’m still watching her when Da returns with a hand towel folded around a handful of ice and presses it into my hand. He lowers himself into the armchair across from me and drags a tired hand over his face. I hold the towel to my cheek, the cold biting through the cloth.Damn it. Mick got me good.

Seamus takes the armchair beside Da and sets two glasses of whiskey on the table between them. Da picks one up and drains half of it in a single swallow. No one says a word, and it’s starting to get under my skin.

I know what I did to Alannah at the reception was shitty. Da was bound to be pissed that I did it in front of everyone. But he and Seamus both have tempers of their own, and I figured once I explained what set me off, they’d understand. I expected anger. Maybe a lecture about keeping family business behind closed doors. That I could deal with.

But this?This feels different.

Mick sitting outside the honeymoon suite doesn’t add up either. He looked like he’d been there for hours.Waiting for me to show up?No—the surprise on his face when he saw me was real. And he and Alannah aren’t close, so he sure as hell wouldn’t have stayed outside our door just because she was upset.

Whatever the reason he was there, this feels bigger than the scene I caused at the reception. And for the first time since I woke up, I’m not so sure an apology and a promise to do better will be enough to fix what I did to Alannah.

I keep the towel pressed to my face, waiting for someone to say something. When no one does, I lower it to my lap. “What am I missing here?”

Still nothing. Da stares into his glass. Seamus hasn’t moved, his jaw locked tight. Mam won’t look at me at all.