My heart clenched, and terror slicked through my veins. I could see the wedding, right down to the outdoor venue with a view of the water, the smell of salt in the air, and the dress code super casual. I could see Daisy and Madeline in dresses they chose to fit their body best, and Skye bedecked in a sweet little dress with lace trim and Brogan—
I stopped my racing mind with the effort of stopping a train from racing down the tracks.
“Did you get the links for the dresses I picked out for you?” Mother asked, and I forced myself to the present.
“I haven’t had a chance to look at them,” I said. More than happy to focus on her situation and not mine. “Can’t I wear the same one I wore two years ago?”
Mom gasped, her fork clanking against her plate as she dropped it. “You can’t be serious, Fiona,” she said, staring at me with wide eyes. “Would you truly want to jinx my wedding by wearing the same dress you wore at my last—”
“Wedding,” I cut her off, the word coming out sharper than I’d meant it to. She visibly swallowed, and I flashed her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” I said, and she waved me off.
“I understand,” she said. “I know it’s not easy being my eldest child,” she said. “I know my lifestyle choices have…taken their toll on you.”
I sighed and grabbed my iced tea, taking a nice long gulp to try and dislodge the knot in my throat.
It didn’t work.
“I’m not a little girl anymore,” I said, setting down my glass. “What you do doesn’t affect me.”
Mom pursed her lips, a sadness flashing in her eyes. She reached for my hand across the table, and I slid mine into hers. “We both know that’s not true, Fiona,” she said, and I tilted my head at her. “I know I’m not the best mother,” she said, and I opened my mouth to argue, but she hurried on. “I never gave you a stable home or a stable father figure. I’m a servant to the pursuit of true love, constantly questing for that perfect happily ever after.”
I sighed, the urge to tell her she’d always kept me fed and warm and gave me some of the best siblings I could’ve asked for. I wanted to tell her she’s the reason I went into child psychology or the reason I worked so fiercely to be independent, to stand on my own, to not need a man to take care of me…but those words died with the seriousness in her eyes as she continued.
“My failures have clearly made you utterly terrified of marriage, and that is one of my biggest regrets for you, Fiona. I never wanted my relationships to ruin your own.”
I furrowed my brow. “I’m not terrified—”
“Well,” she cut me off. “Of course, you are. Why else would you be hesitating to say yes to someone like Brogan Grant?” She said his name with a sort of reverence that made my skin crawl. She’d never even met Brogan. She only knew what little pieces I’d told her about him and how the media painted him.
“If it’s not my failed marriages, then what is holding you back?” she asked when I didn’t respond.
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I fiddled with the snapper on my plate, no longer hungry. Because I didn’t have a clear answer for her. “Fine,” I admitted. “I can’t help how I see marriage. My entire life,” I said, my voice heavy. “I’ve seen you get married, seen you be blissfully happy until you’re not. And it seems more often than not that the second two people get married is the second the love disappears.” Tears gathered in Mom’s eyes, and I internally scolded myself. “I’m sorry,” I continued. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Mom. I can’t help the way I saw things growing up. The way I see them even now.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, clarity and regret coloring her eyes as she dabbed at the corners with a napkin. “I’m not hurt,” she said, gathering herself. “I’m disappointed.”
My shoulders sank, my already warring emotions taking a hit.
“Not in you,” she hurried to say. “In myself.” Her eyes went distant as if she was only now realizing the affects her lifestyle might have on her children. Sure, I was the oldest, but I wasn’t the only one of marrying age. Had she really not thought about how we’d feel about it until someone proposed to me? “I should’ve done better,” she continued, shaking her head. “I should’ve made sure you understood that all the marriages and divorces had everything to do with me and my needs and nothing to do with you or any of your siblings.”
“I know that,” I said. “I really do, Mom. I know you love me, love all of us. It’s not that.”
“But you have to understand that marriage doesn’t cause love to disappear,” she urged, squeezing my hand. “It has everything to do with how we work as partners, and for some reason, I haven’t found the right one yet.”
I sighed. “What about Paul?” I asked, and she smiled slightly.
“Maybe. I feel like he’s the one, but I know my own heart. I won’t be certain until I’m certain. And that’s the thing, sweetie. I’ve never been certain.”
“Then why keep saying yes to every man who proposes to you? How can you risk your heart like that over and over again?” I asked, seriously curious.
“I believe, down to my core, that love is worth it.” She shrugged, sipping from her white wine.
I puzzled over that, my soul feeling stripped raw with the battle inside me, with the pressure mounting with Brogan’s proposal.
What I had with Brogan was unlike anything I’d experienced before, and here I was, scared to death to say yes to any kind of future with him. There were a million reasons—my mom’s history, my own fear of the love vanishing the second we said I do, the absolute fact that Skye’s mother would return to her life at some point, and then where would that leave me?
And even if Skye felt like mine, she wasn’t. I was her nanny, Brogan’s live-in nanny. How could I be one hundred percent sure that he loved me for me and not for the fact that I was magic with his baby girl, and a decent, convenient lay?
Bitterness clung to my chest, making it hard to breathe. Brogan had never once made me feel like a convenience, but I couldn’t stop the traitorous thoughts from creeping into my mind. It was an awful defense mechanism I possessed—find every excuse in the world to not commit to someone, no matter how amazing they were.
No matter how much I loved him.
Because I knew I did. I loved Brogan so much it scared me, but we’d only known each other a few months. How in the hell could I give him my forever when we didn’t even know if we could stand each other for a year, yet?
“Does he make you happy?” Mom asked, and I nodded. “Does he make you laugh?” I nodded again. “Does he acknowledge your worth?”
I swallowed hard but nodded. “He does,” I said. Even though it was hard to separate my job from the relationship we had. We’d crossed that line, so now everything was blurred. He’d reward me with kisses and passionate nights when I’d get Skye to sleep. He’d thank me for making her smile or reading to her. Was that about us or was that about my job? It was hard to understand where my job ended, and his and my relationship truly began. And that, in itself, added to the dilemma I was having when it came to my heart.