Page 15 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
“Dad, my dress,” she fakely whines.
He whispers against her forehead. “This is my last time hugging you as my daughter. Just let me.”
She sinks into the hug, and I avert my eyes again landing on Patrick who pulls on his cigarette firmly and watches them with narrowed eyes.
“All right,” Seamus says at last, his voice thick but steady as he releases her. “I’ll meet you outside the church in fifteen minutes.”
He presses a kiss to her forehead, gives me a look I do not return because I cannot trust my face, and then he’s gone, leaving Erin glowing softly in the mirror and me fighting to keep my composure intact long enough to get us through this.
Erin clears her throat, straightening a little. “We don’t have enough time for you to just stare at me.”
“I’m not staring,” I lie, dragging in a careful breath and swiping at my cheek with the heel of my hand.
We move fast after that. Erin steps out of the gown carefully, lifting the skirt and easing out of the bodice without rushing, making sure nothing catches or tears.
“Rosie, I can’t thank you enough,” she starts for the third time today.
“No time. Shoes,” I order, kicking off my own.
“You have to let me thank you,” she huffs, kicking me the shoes and handing me the dress as soon as she is free, and I take it, spreading it open while she reaches for the clothes waiting on the chair.
“No, I don’t. This is my job,” I say, as I step into the dress she just removed, settle the bodice into place, and smooth the fabric down.
She pulls on the black sweatsuit piece by piece, sweatpants first, then the zip-up jacket, tucking her hair back as she goes. “Bullshit, Rosie, this is more than a job, and you know it.”
I do, but if I think about how much I love her right now, I will cry without ever stopping, and I can’t stop.
“Erin, I love you,” I say as I tighten the bodice around my waist which is a few inches smaller than Erin’s. “That’s all that matters.”
“Rosie, if anything happens to you I swear to God--” she says faintly out of breath as she finishes tying her sneakers.
“Nothing will happen to me,” I assure her, despite me not being able to believe it myself.
By the time she looks up, I am dressed for the ceremony, and she is ready to escape. She looks me over and then her hand flies to her hair and she starts to yank out her mother’s pin.
“No,” I stop her. “Keep it. Your mom wanted you to have it.”
She closes her fingers around it without arguing, nodding once as her tears crest at the edges. “Rosie--”
The door opens and Dolan steps in, already dressed, already focused. “It’s time,” he says gently.
I look at him then, really look at him, and my voice wobbles despite my best effort. “You bring her back to me,” I say. “You keep her safe.”
“With my life,” Dolan answers without hesitation, the words landing solid and certain enough to hold me upright.
Erin is in my arms a second later, clutching at the back of my dress like she used to when she was small and scared of the dark. “I’ll let you know when I’m safe,” she murmurs into my shoulder.
“I know,” I whisper back, pressing my cheek to the crown of her hair and breathing her in one last time.
“Thank you,” she breathes into me.
“I love you,” I whisper back, pulling her hoodie over her head, before pulling away.
“Come on,” Dolan whispers, his voice holding a level of sadness as he gently pulls Erin away and I close my eyes not wanting to see her leave through the door.
“Rosie,” she gasps, but I don’t look at her, my throat growing the biggest knot of salt. “I love you.”
Dolan guides her toward the door, and I am left with the echo of her warmth and the knowledge that there is no more time to linger. I draw in a deep breath, lift the long lace veil, and let it fall over my face, the world softening and blurring as it settles into place.
