Tyler
The pub was still running on its own noise when we finally started breaking away, fiddles still going full tilt in the corner, glasses clinking in rounds I’d long stopped drinking.
I sat there with Orla’s hand laced through mine, watching her laugh with Gwen and Kate, nose crinkling in that adorable little way that she did when she was truly happy and it hit me clearer than it ever had.
Ryan had been around all those years, sure, but he’d never actually been there for me.
He was there in the fights, the mess, the girls, the hangovers.
Always in the wreckage, never pulling me out of it.
The people who’d stood by me, who’d actually shown up?
They were right here, in this pub. Trav, Danny, Jordan, Tom, the girls, Eddie I’ll be up in a minute,” Orla said, coming over to grab my hand.
“Okay,” Gwen said over her shoulder. “But don’t be long. You need your beauty sleep.”
We stepped out into the cool night air. The sky was a deep shade of navy, every star sharp and clear like someone had scattered diamonds across velvet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Danny leaning against the stone wall with some girl I couldn’t quite make out, their heads close together.
I would have called him out, made a joke but the look on his face told me to let this one slide.
I slung an arm around Orla’s shoulders, her arm looping instinctively around my waist. Pulling her close, I kissed the top of her head, breathing her in.
“In case I didn’t tell you tonight, you looked beautiful.”
And she did, that white cotton sundress, soft against her skin, making her look like an angel. My throat tightened just thinking about what she’d look like tomorrow.
“You okay now?” she asked, smiling up at me.
“I’m perfect. I’ve got you, I’ve got friends that matter, and tomorrow I get to marry you all over again.” I smirked, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. “Although, I’m not exactly thrilled about an empty bed tonight.”
“You’ll survive,” she teased.
Maybe. But right then, as we reached the castle wall, survival didn’t sound good enough. I pressed her gently against the cool stone, caging her in with my body.
“Or,” I murmured, lips brushing her ear. “I could just take you here. Give me a taste of what’s waiting for me tomorrow night.”
She giggled softly against my chest, but her hands looped around my neck all the same. “No chance, Mr. Reed. It’s bad luck.”
I slid my palm up her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress higher. “Bad luck, huh?” My fingers grazed the silk of her panties and then pushed them aside. She gasped when I sank a finger into her, tight, wet pussy, instinctively clenching for me.
“Tyler…” she moaned quietly, her voice breaking.
“It’s okay, baby,” I murmured, curling my finger deep inside her. “Nobody’s around. Let me fuck you with my fingers, just enough to keep you aching for me until tomorrow.”
She bit her lip, tipping her head back against the stone as another soft moan slipped out despite herself. My name tore from her throat, desperate, and I smiled against her skin, working her open, feeling how wet she was getting for me. Keeping her right on that edge to ruin her for sleep tonight.
Then I withdrew my fingers, watching her eyes widen in frustration.
“Tyler, that’s evil,” she giggled, half-scolding.
I brushed my mouth across hers, lingering slowly. “Not evil, baby. Just saving the big one for tomorrow night.”
She shook her head against my forehead, still laughing softly, still clinging to me like she didn’t want to let go. “I really don’t want to leave you tonight. Not after everything.”
“I know,” I admitted though my throat was tight. “But it’s just a few hours, O. Then you’ll be back in my arms as my wife…again.”
I was about to kiss her properly when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. The sound felt intrusive in the moment but something in me told me to check it.
Trav:
Mom didn’t get on the plane. No sign of her.
My chest caved in. The night air suddenly felt thin, like someone had vacuumed it straight out of me.
Orla leaned over to read it. She didn’t say anything, just slid her hand up to the back of my neck and held me there, reassuringly like she always did.
“She promised,” I muttered, bitterness scraping my throat. “She swore this time was different.”
Her thumb brushed along my jaw softly. “Ty…you can’t carry that weight tonight. You hear me? Tomorrow’s ours.”
I let out a noise that resembled a laugh, my forehead dropping to hers. Christ, she deserved so much better than me standing here, unraveling over the same old wounds.
“I hate that I believed it. Even for a second.”
“You believed it because you wanted to,” she whispered. “We all did. That’s not weakness.”
We just stood there under thenavy-black sky for a while, the cool stone at her back, her warmth pressed into me. Every part of me wanted to drag her upstairs, superstition be damned, and hold her all night. Instead, I kissed her like it was the only thing tethering me to solid ground.
“Go on,” I finally rasped. “They’re waiting. I’ll be here tomorrow.”
Her eyes searched mine, shining. “Promise me you won’t let her ruin this for you.”
I swallowed, nodding. “Promise.”
She gave me one last kiss, then slipped away, leaving me cold against the wall. Alone now, with nothing but the stars overhead and that hollow ache in my chest.
Tomorrow, she’d walk toward me in the dress she’d chosen and I’d be damned if I let anyone, especially my past, steal that from me.