Quinn #3
He is going to look at me and see exactly what I am. The lesser version, the available option. The replacement bride.
I’ve spent eighteen years being overlooked.
Eighteen years watching my sister take up all the attention and love.
I’ve learned to make myself comfortable in whatever was left over.
I thought I’d made peace with that. I thought I’d found a way to be okay with being Quinn Delaney instead of Dáire’s little sister, the unwanted one.
I didn't expect the unwanted part to follow me into my own marriage. I’ve never been the first choice in anything in my life. I never expected that I’d end up being a replacement.
I breathe in slowly and then let it out. There’s not a thing I can do about it. There was never going to be anything I could do about this situation.
"It’s not like I have a choice," I say quietly. "No doubt you’ve already made the decision and told Cesare."
"Yes," he says, without a hint of remorse. “This is what you were born to be.”
I want to cry. What I was born to be? A replacement for Dáire?
Dáithí and Caden start speaking at once, wanting to know the logistics, the timing of our wedding, and whether the new arrangement goes through the full Syndicate or gets handled directly between the families given the sensitivity of the situation.
They want to know what story will be fed publicly, and how quickly the formal agreement can be drawn up.
Not once am I spoken to. Not once am I asked for any input. I have my job and that is all I’m here for. I was called in to be given directions, not for any other reason. My part is done. I said what was needed but as always it wasn’t heeded. I’m once again back to being invisible.
I take a deep breath once again. I can handle being invisible, it’s something I’ve become extremely good at.
Twenty minutes later and I’m finally dismissed, thankfully.
Da didn’t even glance at me the entire time.
Hell, I'm pretty sure that he forgot that I was present. Caden managed to keep himself between me and our da, ready if he was needed to intervene. It’s a shame that he wasn’t there when our da hit me.
I close the door behind me. The hallway is empty. No doubt the staff are still in hiding, not wanting to get on the bad side of the boss.
I’m not surprised that Dáire isn’t here. She would have gotten away from our da’s wrath the moment she dropped the bomb that she was pregnant. No doubt she’s holed up with Rurik. It’s not like she can do any more damage than she’s already done.
I don't go back to the library. I can't sit with the cold tea and the window light right now. I go upstairs to my room instead.
I close the door behind me without slamming it, sit on the edge of the bed, and let the tears fall.
I'm going to marry Lorenzo Mariano.
Everyone will know who I am. That is the part I keep returning to, the part that sits the heaviest on my heart.
Everyone in the Syndicate will know the full extent of my marriage to Lorenzo.
Dáire chose someone else and the Marianos took me instead.
I'll be talked about at every function, in every conversation, with that damned moniker that says everything in very few words.
The replacement bride.
I think about Lorenzo Mariano. I think about what his face will look like when he hears my name, knowing that all he’ll feel is utter disappointment to be marrying me instead of my sister.
I have known my entire life what this world expects of women in families like mine.
I have known what the Syndicate is and what it demands, what it takes without asking.
I was raised for this the same way every girl in a family like mine is raised for it.
I thought I had made peace with it. I thought I was okay to be married off, but the reality is different.
The reality is sitting on the edge of my bed at eighteen-years-old knowing that a man I barely know is going to be my husband and that he is going to spend the rest of our lives knowing he wasn't given what he was promised.
That every time he looks at me he will be aware, even if only in the back of his mind, of the version of this that didn't happen.
I can do this. I have no choice. There’s no other option. I’ll do it, but I won’t do it happily. And it’ll come at a heavy cost, but I can do it. Whether or not I’m strong enough to withstand the constant torment that my heart and head will be in.
I breathe in through my nose and out slowly.
He didn't choose me, but in the end, I was needed. I understand the difference. I’m going to have to live inside that difference for a very long time, and I refuse to spend that time lying to myself about what it is.
I think about who I'm going to have to be in order to survive it. I'm going to have to be more than the replacement. I’ve no idea how to do that, yet, but I know how to figure things out quietly and without asking for help. I know how to find strength in places people don't think to look.
Those are the only tools I have, and they're going to have to be enough.