Three Promises (4 page)

Edward tried to slow his breathing, but his heart was racing. It was really happening.

“I think that's my cue,” Dante said. He patted Edward's shoulder.

“You'll make sure she doesn't back out, right?” Edward asked.

“No promises.”

Edward laughed nervously, then gave Dante a flat look. “No, seriously.”

Dante laughed. “She made me promise the same thing about you.”

“Really?” Edward asked.

Dante winked. “Don't keep her waiting.”

“Relax.” Hiro shrugged and flashed his infectious smile. “It's only for the rest of your life.”

“Only if I'm lucky,” Edward said.

“You're one of the last true romantics, Dr. Huntington,” Thomas said.

Edward smiled, but it was short-­lived when he heard a familiar voice in the hallway.

“Yes, I know it's about to begin,” Edward's mother said. “But I'm going to see my son.”

Edward winced. It wasn't that his mother was mean, or cruel, she'd just been born without any tact, or much empathy.

“You should probably go,” Edward said to his groomsmen. “I'd prefer if you weren't here for this.”

The three men exchanged a glance and then made their exit.

Edward's mother and father rounded the corner as Hiro, Henry, and Thomas stepped out of the room. There was a moment of awkward dancing as everyone tried to shuffle past each other in the narrow hallway. Edward's father, who looked just like Edward but with more years and gray hairs, gave a polite nod. His mother, a short and slender woman with severe features and expertly dyed dark brown hair, bowled past them as if they didn't exist.

“Mother, what are you doing?” Edward asked when she stepped up to him. “The wedding is going to start—­”

“I'm well aware of that, Edward,” she said.

He felt like he was six years old again.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She asked it in a tone more fitting to a mother being told by her six-­year-­old that he wants to join the circus.

“What?” Edward asked, a little louder than he intended.

His mother shook her head, let out an exasperated sigh, then turned to Edward's father. “Daniel, a little help please.”

Edward's father smiled and nodded. “Of course.” He looked at Edward, then around the hall they stood in.

“Yeah,” Edward said. “You should probably come in here.”

“Yes, not yeah,” his mother said.

He stepped back, and his parents came inside, his mother closing the door behind them. Edward swallowed back his rising dread. It wasn't that he didn't love his parents, he did. They just were never a very close or loving family. His father was a professor of pure mathematics at MIT, and his mother was a lawyer focused on patent and international law. They were analytical, logical ­people, not given to affection or intimacy. It was a bit like being raised by Vulcans.

And yet I turned out so normal, Edward thought. A wizard psychiatrist.

His whole life had been one long attempt to earn his parent's approval. He knew his mother didn't approve of Caitlin, or any single mother. He'd known this conversation was coming for months, but he'd been avoiding it. There was no way around it now, and Caitlin deserved better from him.

He went to the wet bar and poured two fingers of whiskey. He didn't bother offering his parents any, they didn't drink. He emptied the glass in one long gulp, then set it down and steeled his will before turning around.

“Fine, Mother,” he said. “Let's have this conversation. You were asking me, on my wedding day no less, if I want to marry the woman I love.”

His mother let out an exasperated sigh. “Good lord, don't be so dramatic.”

“What she's asking,” his father said, “is if you've really thought this through.”

“No, that isn't what she's asking,” Edward said. “Not really.”

“I like Caitlin,” his mother said.

Edward opened his mouth to call out the lie, but his mother just kept talking.

“We both do,” she said. “She's a very nice girl—­”

“Woman,” Edward corrected, not bothering to keep the heat from his tone. “She's not a child, she's a grown woman.”

“Fine,” Edward's mother said. “But you aren't just marrying her. There's also Fiona.”

Edward drew in a slow breath.

“She's a delightful child,” his father said.

“But she isn't yours,” his mother said. “Are you prepared to raise another man's child?”

Edward opened his mouth.

His mother waved a hand dismissively. “This isn't about her being a single mother, or the real father not being around,” his mother said in a tone that suggested it was precisely about that. “It's about—­”

“Stop,” Edward said, slamming the glass down onto the counter so hard he was surprised it didn't shatter.

Both his parents stared at him speechless.

“Let me put both your minds at ease.” He looked from his mother to his father and back. “Caitlin is the kindest, strongest, bravest person I've ever known. She's raising a child on her own. She doesn't ask for pity or sympathy from anyone because of the life she's had. What she does do is face things head on that would make most ­people run screaming. She's kind and comforting to ­people who are in pain and scared. She's not just a good person, she's remarkable. She's been nothing but kind to you whenever you've met her, and the best you could do is barely hidden disdain. I won't have it anymore. I love her, I have since we first met.”

His mother opened her mouth, but he ignored her, the catharsis of the moment urging him on.

“If you can't see what an astounding woman Caitlin is,” Edward said, “then I can only feel pity for you. Now, you're right that Fiona isn't my biological daughter, but I couldn't love her more if she was. My only regret is that I didn't have a role in making her. But I consider myself incredibly lucky. Her mother is willing to let me play a role in raising her, and I'll get to see her grow into a remarkable woman.”

“Edward—­” his mother said.

“I'm sorry, I forgot to answer your question. Yes,” Edward said with the conviction and certainly he felt in his soul, and he realized then that all his doubts and worries were gone. “I know what I'm ‘getting into.' Yes, I've thought about it. Yes, I know what it means. This is what I want. And I've never been as certain of anything in my life as I am of that.”

There was a long, awkward silence and Edward began to feel the faintest twinge of remorse.

“I'm sorry if my words and tone are harsh,” he said, his tone just a bit softer. “But this is quite possibly the rudest, most inappropriate thing anyone could do today.”

His mother flushed red and glanced away.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to marry the woman I love,” Edward said, moving to the door. “If you can show us both some common courtesy and respect, you're welcome to stay. If not, please see yourselves out.”

He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Henry was waiting in the hallway.

Edward cleared his throat and tried to look relaxed. “Hey, um—­”

Henry nodded. “I heard it all.”

“Oh.”

“Just let it go, you've got other things to focus on today.”

Edward nodded and started walking, Henry taking up step beside him.

“Just look on the bright side,” Henry said.

“Which is?”

“At least they didn't wait for the preacher to ask if anyone objected.”

There was a brief moment of silence before both of them started laughing and made their way to Edward's future.

C
aitlin smiled as she watched Fiona play with her stuffed Paddy Bear. The little girl's dress was a miniature of her mother's, except it had shoulder straps instead of off-­the-­shoulder three-­quarter sleeves. Paddy Bear, for his part, was sporting a white bowtie that Dante had procured just for this occasion. As her friends chatted and smiled, Caitlin smiled. Up until very recently, she'd quietly given up on the idea of ever having a wedding or a family, beyond Fiona anyway. It was never an overt, conscious decision, it was just that between her job and Fiona, meeting anyone—­much less building a relationship—­wasn't high on her list of priorities. But Eddy had found his way into her heart anyway. And now here she was, dressed in a beautiful gown, waiting to marry the man she loved. She laughed quietly to herself, remembering the look on Eddy's face when she'd pulled out the ring. That was a memory she was going to hold on to for the rest of her life.

At the edges of her mind, a voice whispered, reminding her of other memories. And when Fiona looked up at her with big green eyes, Caitlin thought of another pair of green eyes. She saw the brownie's agonized, child-­like face as the gangrene-­like blackness spread across its little body. She still could hear its sobs, and it tore her soul apart all over again.

Caitlin knew there'd been no choice at the time, not if she was going to rescue Fiona from Fergus and his band of nightmares. But the reason there had been no choice was because she'd fallen right into the trap the oíche had set. She'd ignored Brendan's advice.

She drew in a long breath, pushing the pain down deep. She'd gotten good at this part. At first it had just been nightmares, but as the wedding drew closer, the dying cries of the innocent faerie haunted her days more and more often. She'd told Eddy about them, and all her feelings of guilt and shame. He'd reacted exactly as she knew he would. He'd told her, repeatedly, that it wasn't her fault. The oíche had killed the brownie; they'd just used Caitlin to do it. That she was a good person, and had done what she had to do. Survivor's guilt, he called it. She knew he was right, but in her heart, it didn't help much, or for long.

Then there was Brendan's sacrifice. Eddy said Brendan had made his choice and she should respect it. Again, she knew he was right, but that didn't make it, or any of the rest, easier to live with. It was made all the harder because she knew everyone wondered if Brendan had actually died. No one ever said it aloud, but she knew it. She also knew the unspoken question that followed: What fate befell him if he hadn't died?

After all she'd done, did she still deserve this day? She thought of how Eddy looked at her, all the love she could see in his eyes. He'd been beyond amazing this past year. She remembered that first night after she and Fiona had moved into his house, which was also the first night together after she'd asked him to marry her. When she'd first come to his bed, making it their bed, and told him she just wanted him to hold her, he hadn't argued, or even said a word. He'd just wrapped her in his arms and held her all night, and every night after. He'd never pushed for more, never even brought it up. She knew he was waiting for her to make the first move, and she both hated and loved that he hadn't tried anything. Could she blame him though? He knew she'd committed murder.

“You should be happy,” Kris said as she rubbed Caitlin's shoulder.

Caitlin was grateful her maid of honor, like Fiona, didn't seem to remember anything from that horrible ­couple of days. Casey and Janet, her bridesmaids, stepped over.

Casey pushed a mimosa into Caitlin's hand. “You look like you could use a drink.”

Caitlin accepted the glass and took a sip, even though she didn't want it. “Thanks.” She smiled, glad to find it genuine.

“It's normal to have second thoughts,” Kris said, squeezing Caitlin's hand.

“Especially considering the in-­laws,” Janet said and laughed.

Caitlin shook her head. “I'm not, not really. I'm just thinking about things.” Of course she worried about Eddy coming to his senses and running for the hills, but not really. Through all her wallowing and self-­loathing, the one thing she never doubted, not really, was that he loved her. Now, whether she deserved that love, or him, was a different question.

“He loves you,” Casey said. “And you love him, even if it did take you a while to figure that out.”

Caitlin nodded and let those words soak in. She did love Eddy, with all her heart. There had been a period after Fiona was safely home that she'd wrestled with her feelings for him. In fact, she'd spent several nights, unable to sleep in a house where she didn't feel safe, doing some in-­depth soul searching on it. Then some months later, after he'd come over for dinner, and Caitlin had actually managed to get a ­couple hours sleep—­she always did after he'd come over—­she'd found herself wishing he was there, that he'd stayed. Not out of any sense of fear, or insecurity, but simply because she wanted to hold him and kiss him, to just enjoy having him close. That day she'd used her lunch break to find the ring. And then, that first night together, Eddy had wrapped her in his arms. In that moment, she knew she wanted nothing more than to hold him back, to kiss him, and to shower him with love for the rest of her life.

Then do it, moron
, she told herself.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
End the goddamned pity party and start living your life!

She smiled as she thought of that, of the years ahead of them, of growing old together and watching Fiona become a woman.

That's exactly what I'm going to do
, she told herself. She might've done the best she could, but ultimately they'd been terrible choices, and carried horrible consequences. However, that didn't mean she couldn't make it all mean something.

In that moment, with that decision, it felt as if she'd set aside a heavy load. She drew in a deep breath, and felt herself sit up straighter. She smiled, and it was born from not just happiness but hope.

“That's more like it,” Janet said and drank from her own mimosa. “Besides, if you let him go, I'm going after him.”