46. Slade
SLADE
ONE MONTH LATER
“I think she needs changing again. Have fun with that, Dad.” I chuckle as I hand the baby back to my father.
“Again?” His tired eyes soften the moment she’s inside his arms and he gazes at her, smiling. “You like keeping your daddy busy, don’t you? Little mischief maker.”
I found him in the kitchen of his beach house where we’re all staying together, rocking my little sister, Mattison, trying to get her back to sleep so that Halliday can get some rest. She’s only a month old and everyone’s obsessed with her.
Especially my father. Seeing the happiness in his eyes as he looks at her has healed all of us more than anything else. She’s been the new beginning we needed.
“You’re up early, Son?” he says, as he places Mattison up on his shoulder and rubs her back.
“I wanted to take a walk before it all gets crazy.”
“Ah, I see. I did the same thing the morning I married Hallie.”
I nod, a moment of understanding settling between us. My father’s told me his one regret about that day: that I wasn’t there to share it, that I stood on the sidelines, watching from afar like an outsider.
I stroke the downy blonde hair on the back of Mattison’s head, then pat my father on the shoulder.
“See you when I get back.”
He smiles. “All right, Son.”
The sun’s inching past the horizon as I step onto the weathered boards.
It’s been a long time since I came here.
I purposefully chose to have the boat I lived on at a much smaller marina in the opposite direction to this one.
The only time I ever came back to the one close to my father’s beach house was when I wanted to torture myself.
I walk up the long jetty. It stretches the farthest into the ocean, providing the best, unobstructed view of the sunrise, no matter how many boats are around.
Today it’s empty, the water clear and sparkling where my father’s yacht always sat when we came here.
A dark head stares out at the water. He’s got one hand on his hip, the other holding his phone. As I draw closer, he turns. His brows rise as he sees me.
“Won’t the staff in New York have left the office for the day?” I ask, gesturing to Sullivan’s phone.
“I wasn’t calling work,” he replies, his attention returning to the horizon as I stand beside him.
We stand in silence for a few moments just listening to the peace surrounding us. Then Sullivan taps his phone screen and holds it in front of him as the call connects.
I’m transported back in time three and a half years to the day I recorded my answerphone message.
“Hey, you’ve reached Slade. I’m probably jumping out of a plane right now and freaking out my brother. But if you leave a message, I’ll call you back.”
His jaw flexes, and he ends the call. “I told the phone company to cut it off tomorrow.”
“You paid the bill all this time?”
“Yeah.” His nostrils flare as he inhales slowly.
A lump clogs my throat. “I’m sorry, Sull.”
He nods. “I know. Me too.” He slides his phone into his pocket. “The days after, I didn’t even want to wake up. Then Molly appeared, and she needed me. I had to get on with it. I had to keep waking up every day. But it was so fucking hard.”
A muscle in his cheek clenches like he’s trying to rein his emotions in.
“You lost me. But you won’t lose her. She loves you and she needs you. We’ll figure it out when she’s older,” I tell him.
He presses his lips together hard with a curt nod. “I know we will. It’s what I hated the most, that she didn’t have you, that she’d never know you. But now she will.”
“Nothing I say could ever tell you how grateful I am that you got to be her daddy. You’re the best father she could ever have. She’s got a family who adores her. She has all of us, and she’s only going to have more love now.”
“She is.”
Sullivan turns to me, our eyes meeting.
“I’m glad you’re back, Brother.”
I nod, unable to speak as he opens his arms and wraps me inside them. The shaking of his chest melts into mine and we fall apart together. In the place where we lost one another, we hold one another up.
We keep the other standing.
“I love you, Sull.”
He holds the back of my head, turning his cheek into mine.
“Love you too, Risk Taker,” he says in my ear. “Always.”
We break apart as footsteps approach.
Sinclair stares at us, her arm connected with Uncle Mal’s as they walk closer.
“This a private party, or can anyone join in?”
She glances between us and then to Uncle Mal.
His face is gaunt. He’s lost weight and looks paler each time I see him.
But we’re refusing to let him deal with this alone, like he keeps insisting he should.
The more he tries to push us away, the more we all band around him—making him leave the house each day, making him come to work meetings.
Making sure he doesn’t miss a moment of Molly or Mattison.
He needs to be a part of those times to make him strong again—when our family is all together. Sticking together.
It’s the only thing we know. It’s what keeps us all going.
“You ready for today?” Uncle Mal asks, looking at me.
“Never been readier.”
His eyes slide to the empty space beside the jetty where my father’s yacht once belonged. “She’d have loved Jude. She always said you needed a woman who embraced your crazy antics instead of trying to change them.”
“She’d have probably asked her if she was sure about what she was doing, marrying into our family,” I say.
His mouth softens into the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen on him in weeks. “Yeah, she would have. She’d be proud of you all.” His brow furrows. “So damn proud,” he whispers.
“Uncle?”
He turns to me, and my gut twists at the mix of grief and regret in his eyes.
I search them, hoping to see what I need to—that it’s less than yesterday, and the day before.
Even just a fraction. Because we’ll keep going, day by day, until the time comes where we’re all able to breathe without it burning us inside again.
I find what I’m searching for, a tiny sliver of light, and I clap a hand on his shoulder and squeeze.
“Are you ready for today?” I ask.
“Are any of us ready?” he jokes.
Sinclair wipes her eyes, giggling. “Probably one of the crazier things we’ve all done together.”
Sullivan huffs. “Can’t believe you talked me into it.”
“If I recall, you didn’t need much persuading.” Sinclair tuts.
“Tate liked the idea,” he grumbles, but his lips quirk as he says it.
“You just couldn’t wait any longer, admit it. It’s okay to be wrapped around your woman’s finger, you know?” Sinclair says.
“That how Denver sees it?”
We all turn at my father’s chuckled words.
“Denver’s a very happy boy.” Sinclair smirks. “And if he wasn’t, then we’d blame you, Dad. You were the one who made us spend all that time together.”
“You needed a bodyguard,” my father replies, innocently.
“You mean you finally found someone you approved of? Thank God, because dating with you all interfering all the time was a heap of fun.” She rolls her eyes and my father chuckles again.
I stay quiet, watching them, soaking in the moment where we’re just us, the way we always were. We’re having more and more of these moments. And I live for each one.
My father looks at each of us in turn, and he smiles.
“Let’s get you married now.”
“You got the rings?”
Molly nods seriously, uncurling her little fist and showing me the silk Beaufort Diamonds ribbon that’s tying the bands together.
“And you remember which one is which?”
A little wrinkle appears between her brows as she considers my question, then nods again.
“Good job, Sweetheart.” I kiss her on the cheek, and she breaks into a grin.
I smooth her curls down, but they bounce straight back to where they want to be. I bite back my smile, straightening her hair clip instead. It’s one of my mother’s. Seeing Molly wearing it today brings a pang of bittersweetness to my chest.
Mom would have loved to have seen this today.
She would have sat in the front row and smiled through the entire thing.
Seeing how happy we all are today would have meant everything to her.
Because despite what happened, and the mistakes she made, she loved us.
And we loved her. She was still our mom.
And she’s not the villain in all of this.
No one is. We all carry around a darkness inside us.
But it’s being with those we love that shines a light on the shadows and stops them from ever taking over.
Being with family.
I straighten from where I’m crouched beside Molly and smile at Jude’s mom as she walks up the aisle.
“It’s almost time.” Her eyes light up with joy. She takes me in, dressed in my tuxedo. “Jude’s been waiting for this, Slade.”
“Me too,” I say as she leans close, and I kiss her on the cheek in greeting.
I know what she means. Jude’s been waiting for this day ever since Callum stole it from her. To walk down the aisle to a man who truly loves her. A man who would die for her.
I intend to be everything she needs and more, just like she is to me.
Jude told me Callum moved to a hospital in Boston after Kelly dumped him. He left without saying goodbye. Probably the best thing he’s ever done for Jude. And the bravest thing he’s ever done for himself. I’m not sure I could have held back if I’d ever seen him again.
“You deserve this,” Clara says softly, her eyes still holding mine with that unwavering love and warmth that a mother has.
My throat goes scratchy, and I attempt to clear it. “Thank you,” I rasp. “I wouldn’t… we wouldn’t…” I take a deep breath. “You saved me twice. After the fire. Then when I met your daughter.”
“Jude, our very own Saint of lost causes,” she says softly.
“Exactly.” I swallow, fighting the growing ball lodged in my throat.
Clara rests her hand on my arm. “You’re going to make each other very happy; I know it.”
“I’ll try my best for her every day, I promise you.”
She moves to take her seat and my heart hammers.
Any moment, she’ll be here.
My Saint Jude.
Denver leans in beside me. “Breathe,” he instructs. “You too,” he adds, looking at Sullivan on my other side.
Sullivan adjusts his bow tie, his Adam’s apple flexing as he clears his throat. “I’m fine.” He bends and lifts Molly into his arms. “Daddy’s fine, isn’t he, Sweetheart?”
“Daddy happy,” Molly says, putting her thumb and forefinger on either side of Sullivan’s mouth and pulling it into a cartoon grin.
I chuckle and Sullivan’s eyes soften.
“Yes, Daddy’s happy. And I’m very proud, because I think you’re the best ‘best woman’ I’ve ever seen.”
Molly beams at his compliment and he kisses her curls.
“You are, Molly. Doing a great job,” Denver agrees.
“Thank you, Den-va,” she says proudly.
“Keep a tight hold on all those rings, okay, Sweetheart? You have the most important job here today. Without you, none of it can happen,” Sullivan tells her.
Molly nods, poking her lower lip out in concentration. “I can do it.”
I catch Sullivan’s eye, the nerves in my stomach being replaced by an overwhelming urge to hug them both and never let go.
“We know you can. That’s why we all chose you,” I say.
She grins at Denver, Sullivan, and me in turn.
Then her eyes go wide, and she points.
“Daddy!” she squeals.
Sullivan and I both whip our heads to where she’s pointing.
My heart soars like a goddamn firework, bursting into light at the sight of her.
I glance at Denver and Sullivan, in their matching tuxedos.
We’re all sharing the same intense looks of awe.
The piano music seamlessly builds in volume, beginning a new song, and all the guests rise, turning toward the petal-coated aisle that’s been built on boards over the sand.
The extra-wide aisle where three breathtaking brides stand beside three proud fathers.
“Absolutely incredible,” Sullivan breathes.
“Wow, Princess,” Denver rasps.
I hold Jude’s glittering eyes, my face breaking into a smile that matches hers. “New York City,” I whisper. “Thank you.”