“I will,” I said hoarsely, a ball stuck at the back of my throat. I cleared my throat. “I promise. I will. For both of you.”
A tear leaked down my cheek as I kissed her forehead. Another fell as I bent to kiss Cleo. She stirred, her eyes squinting and relaxing several times, as though she were trying to open them. Then she gave up and gave her energy instead to suckling at her mother’s breast.
“Good,” Celia said, her own voice tight. “Thank you, that’s...good.”
We settled into silence, heavy but not burdensome. As though I was carrying a load that I very much wanted to be carrying. My emotions were a knot inside me, too tangled to pick out all of them individually.
One, though, stood out from the rest, one I was quite familiar with—the “almost” feeling. The one I’d experienced most frequently after Celia had come into my life. Before her, I’d always been insufferably far away from whatever it was that was the goal, the abstract completion that I longed for and could never actually achieve.
Then she’d appeared, and that “will-never-reach” feeling had grown more and more possible, and now it felt so close. Like trying to catch a string of a helium balloon just as it drifts out of my grasp. Like closing my hand around a fistful of fog or smoke and opening it again to find a bare palm.
I closed my hands now, one around Celia’s shoulder and another around Cleo’s tiny foot. I lay there, as long as I could, until a nurse came in to tend to my women, way beyond when my limbs had fallen asleep and my neck had got a crick, afraid if I opened my hands again I’d find them both empty.
Eight
Celia
I gasped and brought my hand to my chest, a cliched gesture that was both authentic and fitting for the moment. “Oh my, that’s spectacular!”
Spectacular was actually an understatement. The Edwardian style jewel on Genevieve’s finger, with it’s bead of diamonds around a larger stone, was genuinely one of the most gorgeous engagement rings I’d ever seen.
Also, possibly one of the most expensive. The center stone had to be at least two carats, and if I had to guess, I’d say the whole thing probably cost a hundred grand.
I supposed that was the kind of bauble you got when you hooked up with a Pierce. Once upon a time, I would have been seething with jealousy, despite having not an ounce of attraction for Chandler. It was his last name that I’d coveted. I could barely remember feeling that way now, as content as I was with a sleeping four-month-old baby in the next room and a husband that I loved madly at my side.
A husband who hadn’t said a word since his older daughter stuck out her hand to share the good news.
“Daddy?” Her voice was cautious but hopeful. Understandably so. She was only twenty-four, and last she’d told us, she’d indicated marriage wasn’t anywhere on their radar. She and Chandler hadn’t even been together quite a year yet. Not to mention the bit about him being a Pierce. It was natural to assume that her overprotective father might have some reservations about their union.
I bit my lip as Edward remained silent, feeling the tension thickening around us. Just as I was about to put my hand out to touch his thigh so I could nudge him out of his stupor, he stood and without a word, walked out of the room.
Genevieve and I exchanged a glance, then she exchanged one with Chandler, who had her ringless hand clenched tight in his. The expression on her face was one of bewilderment. His, on the other hand, was tightening with what I could only imagine was rage.
Heat rushed up my neck in mortification. It was one thing to be skeptical about their relationship. It was quite another to be an ass about it.
I stretched my neck so I could look through one of the openings in the bookcase that separated the living room of our suite from the next. Edward hadn’t gone far, apparently. He was in the dining room leaning over the wet bar.
“Edward? What are you doing?” Admittedly, there was a sharpness to my tone. Things had been so good between us, and I didn’t want to start a fight, but I would if he didn’t get his act together. She was still his daughter, and she deserved his support no matter what her choices. Weren’t those words that had come out of his own mouth when she’d first decided to work for a company he abhorred after graduation?
And what was there not to support, anyway? He’d said he’d been happy when she’d taken the job at Pierce Industries. He already knew she wasn’t returning to London anytime soon. She’d been dating Chandler for months. The only thing that had changed was she was now engaged to one of the wealthiest men in America. There was no way he could justify the cold shoulder.
“Coming.” The clinking sound accompanied his response. A second later he was back in the room carrying four glass flutes and a bottle of Dom Perignon that had been put in the fridge a couple of days before in preparation for a celebration of our own that we had yet to make time for. “I thought the occasion called for champagne,” he said, distributing the glasses. “It’s not every day that your child gets engaged.”
The rest of us sighed in unison, the tension immediately evaporated and replaced with smiles and hugs and congratulations.
Then Edward popped the champagne. “Shall I pour one for you, love?”
I mentally calculated how much breast milk I had stored in the fridge. Enough to get through the night, I was sure. Which meant I could express and dump if I had any alcohol now.
Still, I hesitated. Nursing was one of my greatest joys, a special time for me and Cleo to bond with each other. With Edward too, who was often at my side for feedings when he was home.
Seeming to read my mind, he said, “Let me feed her when she wakes. I rarely get the opportunity.”
My devil had grown awfully princely over the years. It made my chest tight to think about. “In that case, fill mine to the top.”
Everyone laughed as Edward poured each of us a full glass. When he’d finished serving, he set the bottle down and lifted his flute. “To a long and happy union. May you continue to love and bring out the best in each other for the rest of your days.”
Simple, but sincere. Genevieve wiped her eye as she raised her glass to clink against each of ours.
“Honestly, Dad,” she said when we’d all taken our first swallows and remarked on the quality. “I was scared there for a moment.”
Edward arched a brow. “You were? Whatever for?”
She stared at him like the question was ludicrous. “You didn’t say anything. Then you got up and Left. The. Room. That’s not the behavior of a father who is about to give his blessing.”
“Genny had already been nervous you wouldn’t approve.” Chandler gazed adoringly at his fiancée. “I’d even prepared a speech defending our decision in case…” His brows knit, and I could tell he was imagining himself standing up to Edward. “Well, thank God it didn’t go that way.”
I smiled to myself, feeling lucky that I was married to such an intimidating specimen.
An intimidating specimen who was at that very moment being especially intimidating. “You thought I wouldn’t approve? Because you’re both so young or because you’ve known each other less than ten months or because you’re a Pierce?”