Enzo balled his fist. He wouldn’t risk the Leahys safety and livelihood to soothe his anger. He gave a curt nod.
“I wish I could demand more. But the last thing we need is a war coming through and destroying the town.”
“I want him gone as soon as possible, Mike. I won’t stop looking over my shoulder until he’s out of the States.”
“Ahead of you, brother. He leaves in the morning.”
He accepted the small victory. “If I see him in town again ...”
“Then he’s all yours,” Mike said.
He nodded. “I’m going to go be with my lady.”
“I’ll keep prospects watching her until she gets out,” Mike said.
Enzo nodded his thanks and quickly said his good-byes. This was the last place he needed to be right now. Running into Keir would be pressing his luck and testing his patience.
Epilogue
“She Walks in Beauty” Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
3 months later
Seeing your life flash before your eyes puts a lot into perspective. Aibhlinn left the hospital, came to his house to recover, and never left. From then on things had moved to hyper speed. With both of their moms planning, the wedding had been organized in three months. Aoife was learning words, and he swore his heart swelled every time she said Mama or Dada. He glanced to across the church and smiled at the sight of his little girl in a fluffy pink dress fit for a princess. She gave him a gummy smile, and he marveled at the changes in his life.
He still saw the doc once a month for a tune up, and to progress with putting his past to rest. He couldn’t allow the poison to spill over onto the little patch of nirvana he’d carved into the world. Now here he stood waiting for the woman of his dreams. It wasn’t an easy road to get here. There had been fights, tears, and episodes. But they’d come out on the other side, and from where he stood now, life was beautiful. There’d been one opening left at Old St. Mary’s and they’d taken it gratefully. Now she stood just outside the entrance of the church with his father and her mother to walk her down the aisle. Red rose petals littered the white aisle runner, and tri-tiered candelabras illuminated the pews full of family and friends. The “Wedding March” began to play, and the guests stood. He registered this vaguely because his full attention was the woman in white coming toward him. Lace was draped across the clavicle he loved to explore with his tongue.
The dress tucked in and belled out making her look like a fairy creature. The simple band of emerald green ribbon around her waist with a white flower made him smile. It represented her beloved Emerald Aisle, just as the crown of pink, white, and purple wildflowers that adorned her wild hair did. Curls tumbled down her shoulders, framing her face. She paused and mouthed the word hi. He couldn’t stop the goofy smile he returned as he mouthed the greeting back. Her mother and his father kissed her cheek, placed her veil over her face, and handed Aibhlinn off to him. They joined hands and knelt, facing the priest.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today ...” The traditional words blurred as he held on to her hand. Her body all but vibrated with energy.
“Before the couple says their vows, the groom would like to present something to his bride.”
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
He smiled. He’d gotten something for her last night; a symbol of their love he could carry with him everywhere they went. He twisted his body to face her and took her hands. He’d never told her that the poem reminded him of her. It was why he’d gotten the stars on his arm with t
he lines “Of cloudless climes and starry skies.” It was his personal homage to the woman he loved. Now he could wear the words proudly. Lost in the depths of her greenish-blue jewels, he recited the poem.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.