Page 69 of What Doesn't Kill You…

"Take a breath," Max whispered. "Let the man get it off his chest."

Easy for him to say. His family was in Canada instead of making inappropriate speeches at their fake wedding.

"My instinct was to throw a huff and refuse to attend the wedding I wasn't invited to," her father said.

Oh, how she wished he'd followed his instincts.

"Then," he looked directly at Violet, "your mother reminded me that there has never been an event in your life, where you were center of attention, that you wanted anyone to attend. Whether good or bad, you wanted to do it alone. You didn't want us at your police graduation, or when you got your black belts, or even when you ended up in hospital. She reminded me that you didn't exclude us because you don't care about us, but because you desperately hate being in the limelight and having the people you love fuss over you."

"You get it from your grandmother," her mum said, smiling at Lian. "She hates people making a fuss too."

"Although," Lian said with superiority, "I matured and realized it's sometimes necessary."

Good for you, Violet thought, narrowing her eyes at her grandmother.

Her father cleared his throat again. "Your mother also reminded me that, even though you never wanted us at these events, we were the first people you came to when they were over." He smiled at her, his eyes soft with love. "I have a wall in my office, filled with your achievements, because you handed each one over to me like a prize after you got it. It took me years to understand that every certificate or award you gave me was your way of including me in your success. Your way of saying thank you for our help in making it happen." He swallowed hard. "So, I realized, it isn't that you don't want us there for the big things, it's that you feel they aren't really about you. That they're about everyone who helped you get where you are today."

Everybody was looking at her with love now. Violet wanted to slide under the table to get away from it. Max leaned in close and clasped her shoulder.

"You can do this," he whispered. "It's almost over."

"Now," her father said, his voice rough. "We reach this weekend's event, and another achievement in your life you want to celebrate away from the spotlight—which, I realize we've ruined." There was laughter. Violet wasn't amused. "But we thought it was important that your family was here with you, because a wedding isn't only about the two people getting married. It's about two families joining together to make something bigger, better, and more boisterous. That's not the only reason we thought it was important we were here. We also wanted you to be married surrounded by love, and to be reminded that it isn't just Max who loves you and accepts you for who you are. You have always had our love and support, Violet. You always will."

Well shit.

What was she supposed to do with that?

Violet kept her eyes on the table because looking at anyone else was too hard. To her surprise, Max leaned into her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She could practically hear her mother purr with approval. The agony wouldn't end.

"So, here's to Violet and Max," her father said. "May you have a long and happy life together and produce more grandchildren for your mother." That caused more laughter. "And may Max remember you have a family who loves you, and is ready to fight for you if he dares to upset you."

"Message received," Max said with a smile in his voice.

"And," her father said, "please don't continue your tradition of handing over your achievements for me to put on my wall. I give you permission to keep Max all to yourself. To Violet and Max."

"To Violet and Max," everyone said.

Violet couldn't look at any of them. The lie of their situation was a shroud around her, weighing her down. She felt something press against her fingertips and looked up to see Lian had moved a glass of champagne closer to her.

"Drink up, little warrior," she said. "Toast your wedding with us."

There was challenge in her eyes, as well as knowing. Violet's stomach clenched and her throat closed as she reached for the glass. She forced down a sip of champagne, the bubbles felt like sandpaper rubbing along the inside of her throat. So, she thought, this was what it felt like to swallow your lies.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Max lay in bed going over the evening’s events while Violet secured the bungalow. He thought it had gone pretty well. The speeches had been short, the food good, and most everyone had braved the stage to sing their favorite songs. The teens had worked their way through every K-pop song they knew before their father had forced them back to their seats so he could take the mic. He'd then sang the weirdest Scottish song Max had ever heard, called Donald Where's Yer Troosers. Even Max had taken a turn, murdering two songs from Canada's most famous singers, one from each, before handing the mic to Violet's sister. There had been lots of laughter and, for a few minutes, he'd almost forgotten why he was on the island in the first place.

Almost.

It would take more than a fun evening with good people to make him forget about Damien Poole. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his smug face behind bars for good. Nothing.

He heard Violet walk through the bungalow and forced himself to think about more pleasant things. Like his beautiful and deadly bodyguard. There would be time enough tomorrow to focus on Damien.

"I like your family," he told her as she turned off the lights and climbed into her side of the bed. At least they'd avoided a fight about where she should sleep. That was progress.

"They seem to like you too," Violet said, sounding mystified.

He tried hard not to take offense. "You should have sung something. It was fun."