Declan

I want Michael Maclaster to work for me.

He is very clever when it comes to flavors and ways of brewing whiskey. I always knew that he had worked for Jameson, but I didn’t realize how close he was to the inner workings of the distillery. Hearing him talk about it is like talking to my grandda, and it’s refreshing. I’m thoroughly enjoying it and want nothing more to bring him on to my team, but as soon as I bring that up, he shoots me down.

“Ah, Declan, I’m done with that.”

“Never,” I try, but he is already shaking his head.

“No, I am. With Fiona moving out, it gives me and Shelia time to ourselves. I can’t get a job now.”

Leaning toward him, I say, “I’ll pay ya whatever ya like.”

He smirks at me as he shakes his head. “Declan, lad, when you marry Amberlyn, you’ll learn very quickly that being wealthy is having that girl look at ya and smile. I don’t need money; I need the time back that I lost with Sheila ’cause I didn’t know then what I know now.” He leans back in his chair, taking a shot of his whiskey before setting me and then Kane with a look. “Listen to this old man, lads. Don’t work yerselfs to death ’cause at the end of the day, she’ll love ya no matter what.”

I want to convince him otherwise, but I can see in his eyes it’s no use. As I climb the stairs to Amberlyn’s room, his words play over and over in my head. I’ve been so giddy to start working hard to make O’Callaghan’s a success on my own, but maybe that’s wrong of me. I already work too much as it is and hardly get to see my love. I could see the regret in Mr. Maclaster’s eyes for the years he spent away from his daughter and wife, and I just can’t do that.

I have to be mindful.

Amberlyn comes before my work.

No matter what.

Reaching Amberlyn’s room, I push open the door to find her on her bed. Her knees are brought up to her chest with a book on her knees. She has changed since she isn’t wearing the dress any longer, only a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Her hair is piled on her head and she is sleepy-sexy. I want to lie down next to her, nuzzle my nose into her neck, and fall asleep with her breath on my cheek. This is my bride. My life.

Looking up at me, she smiles. “Come here.”

I come to her without question, crawling into bed with her. She cuddles into my chest and opens the book along our legs. The first thing I see is a small Amberlyn. I know it’s her from first glance. Her cherub cheeks and bright aquamarine eyes. She was as stunning as a child as she is now.

“This is me at nine.”

I smile. “Gorgeous, of course.”

Turning the page, it’s her again with who I presume is her da. She has his eyes, his lips, and the shape of his face. He was a happy man from what I can see. His arms are tight around Amberlyn’s small frame, grinning at the camera. I can almost hear the laughter. On the opposite page is one of her, her da, and her ma. I thought she looked like her da, but she is her ma made over. Simply stunning.

“This is my mom and dad.”

“You look very happy.”

“I was,” she answers and slowly she turns the page. Each picture is her with her parents at various spots, their home, on vacation, and at sporting events. They were happy, very happy. When she pauses at one picture, her fingers come along the face of her da and she sucks in a deep breath. They are both wearing Mickey Mouse shirts, standing outside of a gate. “This was three days before he died. I was twelve.”

“Where were you guys?”

“Disney World,” she answers, smiling. “We left that day; it was the most magical trip of my life. We had so much fun. My mom always said we’d go back, but we never did. I think it hurt her too much.”

Snaking my arm around her, I kiss her temple. “We’ll go, yes? Me and you, fly to the States and do it again.”

She glances up at me, her eyes watering a bit as her bottom lip wobbles. “Really?”

“Yeah, for sure. Wanna go before or after the wedding?”

“Probably after. We have so much before.”

“Sure, but I don’t care. You tell me and we will go.”

She cuddles into me and my heart aches in my chest. I want her to be happy. I want to fill the hole she has in her, and I pray that I am doing enough to help. To make this life one she is proud of. One her parents would be proud of.

“I love you, Declan.”

“I love you,” I whisper as she turns the page again. We don’t say anything as she slides each page over, and I watch as her ma gets skinner and skinner. When the last picture appears, one of her mother lying in a bed with a scarf around her head, her face sunken in and her eyes dull in color, I have to swallow back my own tears. I can feel them falling from Amberlyn’s sweet face, but I know I have to be strong for her.

“She died that night,” she says softly, biting her lip. “I knew it was going to happen. I felt it in my heart. I kissed her over and over again, telling her how much I loved her, and she kept saying it back to me. She didn’t want to leave; I know she didn’t.”

“Who would ever want to leave you, Amberlyn?” I ask. “I couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t imagine my life without your love, and I know that it had to be so hard for your ma and your da. But I know they are watching and they are so fuckin’ proud, mo stór. So proud.”

Burying her face into my neck, she cries. Her whole body shakes against me as she sobs for the death of her parents. I place the book beside us and hold her, allowing her to get it all out. I knew before I even realized she had my heart that there would be days like this. When she would lose it because of the loss she has suffered. I hate that she is in so much pain, that her parents aren’t here to watch her grow and live her life. If I could, I’d give it all back. Meeting her, loving her, and ultimately being allowed to marry her if only she could have her ma and da back, or hell, just her ma. I know I’d find her. I would because she was made for me. We were made to be together. No other way, just us.

Kissing her temple, I whisper how much I love her and she just cries against me. I want to comfort her, but really what can I do? How do you mend that kind of loss? I just don’t see it happening. As much as I want to believe I do comfort her, I know that it can’t be enough. Time will heal, and hopefully, I’ll help a bit. When she pulls back, her eyes full of tears, she cups my face, running her thumbs along my jaw as her eyes search mine.

When her lips curve up in a shaky grin, it honestly guts me. She is so beautiful and so fuckin’ strong. It kills me. I wish I were a quarter of what she is. To go through so much pain but still love with all ya heart is saintlike almost. She is my angel. My sweet, gorgeous angel.

“I swear, Declan, you are my salvation,” she whispers, tears rolling fast along her cheeks. “I wouldn’t be as happy as I am without you. I try so hard to be happy, to make other people happy, and to just be the person everyone wants. But when I’m with you, I only have to be me. Sometimes that’s a hot mess of tears, but I know you’ll always love me.”

“I will,” I promise. “No matter what.”

Her lip starts to wobble, and when her eyes close, I want to gather her in my arms, but then she sucks in a deep breath before glancing at me. “I’m not saying this to hurt your feelings, but you’ll never be what my parents were—”

“I know that—” I say, but she shakes her head, cutting off any further words.

“And I know you don’t try to be. You are Declan, only Declan, for me, and that’s all I need. I miss my parents, I do, and I know that over the years, the pain will dull, but I just want you to know that I wouldn’t make it without you. I’d put on a front, I would, but I would never experience life the way I am now that you are in it.”

Smiling, I cover her hands with mine. “And to think, we have so much more to do. Our wedding, honeymoon, and then our life. No matter what, I’ll be beside you.”

“Good ’cause I don’t believe in divorce.”

“Nor do I. This is it. Me and you, mo stór.”

“That’s how I want it.”

We share a grin before pressing our lips together. Gathering her tightly in my arms, I deepen the kiss, hoping to portray how much love is in me for this woman. How my whole life is devoted to her. That is until a knock comes at the door.

Parting quickly, I let my legs hang over the bed as Amberlyn says, “Come in.”

In comes Mrs. Maclaster with a sullen look on her face. “Sorry to bother ya, but I just got the mail and this was in it.”

She crosses the room and hands the letter to Amberlyn. I want to mind my own business, but the look on Shelia’s face has me nervous. Glancing over, I see who the letter is from and soon my blood is boiling.

Casey Burke.

“How can he send this to me?” she asks as she tears it open.

“The inmates can send post if they like,” I answer as Shelia sits down in a chair by the bed. “Can I read it?”

She nods before clearing her throat. “I’ll read it out loud.”

My dearest Amberlyn,

I hope that all is fit with ya. That you are happy and healing well.

I first want to apologize for everything that I’ve done to you. I should have never touched you or hurt you in any way. I always felt like ya was seeing me and not what everyone said about me. It was intoxicating; you are intoxicating, that is. I can see why O’Callaghan is so in love with ya. You’re special. That being said, I never meant to shoot you. I know ya love him, but he has done nothing but hurt me over and over again. His family has run my name through the dirt. His sister broke my heart, his da tries to pay me off to leave, but I can’t. My ma is sick and needs me. She is dying, Amberlyn, and if you testify against me, she’ll die without my care. I have to be there. Please, don’t testify. I know you can turn this letter in and it’ll have me rotting in jail, but I’m hoping you’ll find it in yer heart to help me out. If not for me, then my ma. Please.

Find it in yer heart. Please.

Casey

As the words leave her lips, I hate them. I hate every single word, and I want nothing more than to stuff them all down that eejit’s throat. They are all lies. All of them. But when I go to tell Amberlyn that, her eyes are full of tears and she is shaking her head as she slowly folds up the letter.

“Well, then,” Mrs. Maclaster says.

She chews her lip before looking over at her aunt. “Do you know where his mom is? Is she still at home?”

Mrs. Maclaster nods. “Yeah, she was in a home, but there was no money coming in, so now she has a friend who comes in to care for her.”

Looking over at me, Amberlyn meets my gaze. “I’m still gonna testify against him, he has to pay for his crime, but his mom shouldn’t pay for his mistakes.”

“I mean, she did raise the gobshite,” I say, but she tsks me.

“Declan.”

I look away as I shake my head. “It’s true, though,” I say, and even Mrs. Maclaster agrees with me.

“This is true, but I can’t help put her son away knowing that she’ll die without proper care.”

Again I shake my head, knowing exactly what she is doing. “Ya have a heart of gold, Amberlyn.”

“And you love me for it,” she says and I nod, kissing the side of her mouth.

“I do and I’ll have my assistant call tomorrow to get her put back in the home, fully paid for.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ll do it with my money. I don’t want to make your dad mad.”

Taking her hand, I kiss her palm before meeting her gaze. “Don’t ya worry about my da, I’ll deal with him. But, Amberlyn—”

Her eyes start to water again. “Yeah?”

“My money is your money, my love. Don’t ever forget that. And if doing this for that wanker’s ma will make you happy, then it’s done.”

When the brightest grin comes across her face, I remember that I may never love her the same way her family did, but I’m going to try my hardest to love her even more.