THIRTY
It’s finally the day of my dad and Alyson’s wedding. They’ve chosen a beautiful location—the elegant Dane Estate in Chestnut Hill—probably on Alyson’s insistence since my dad has the absolute worst taste when it comes to wedding venues. At his last wedding, he was adamant about a location teeming with gold that made the entire place look gaudy and more like the McMansion he’d moved into.
Regardless, the wedding ceremony was beautiful. I think I might have shed a tear when Alyson emerged in wearing her wedding dress—a long-sleeved A-line style with a gorgeous lace open back for that touch of sensuality—coupled with a long veil and the celestial headpiece that we bought together the other day perched on her head. She looked breathtaking walking down the aisle to my dad, whom I had never seen cry during any of his previous weddings and who was now unable to keep his tears at bay.
Right until then, I had my reservations that this marriage would last, but as I stood there and watched my dad kiss Alyson, beaming with pride and love for her as they walked back up the aisle together after being pronounced husband and wife, I became convinced that this was indeed the kind of love that my dad had been waiting for his whole life.
As I join the rest of the bridesmaids down the aisle, I catch sight of Jax sitting in one of the back rows, his gaze cutting deeply into me. A slow, malicious smile stretches across his face when our eyes meet. I roll my eyes. At least Beth, who’s walking in front of me, doesn’t notice anything amiss. Throughout the ceremony, I’d been nothing but civil with my sister for Alyson and my dad’s sake, but she has another thing coming if she thinks I’m going to extend the same courtesy to Jax.
A white tent has been erected outside of the estate on the Founder’s Lawn to house the seventy-five guests for the reception. Large, lodge-inspired chandeliers droop from the tent ceiling, leaning into the rustic, natural-oak themed decorations that pepper the reception tent. Intricate rose arrangements are perched on every table, paired with mason jars with twinkly lights in them and unique terrarium candles that would put any woman’s Pinterest board to shame.
I mingle with the other bridesmaids, greeting all the guests strolling about. Kayden has gone to the bar to fetch us some drinks, which I’m thankful for, since I’m going to need all the alcohol I can get to get through the night. The jazz band that they hired have begun playing my dad’s favorite song, “La Vie en Rose,” and I groan, already knowing what to expect next.
And sure enough, my dad ambles over to me, a hesitant smile on his face as he extends a hand to me.
“Would you do me the honor of a father-daughter dance, Sienna?” He asks expectantly.
A couple of awwws sound from the guests surrounding us, their faces bright with anticipation as they watch us. I nod silently and place my hand on top of my dad’s, allowing him to lead me onto the dance floor. He tucks his hands behind my back and I slide my mine over his shoulders as we sway to the lovely instrumental music. I feel the watchful gazes of all the guests as we slow dance, expanding the tightening feeling in my chest.
“You know, if you get married again you might actually run out of cute wedding venues in Boston that you haven’t already booked,” I note dryly as our bodies sway to the steady beat of the song.
He pulls back enough for me to see the frustration flashing in his eyes. “Sienna.”
“Sorry. Force of habit,” I mutter. “The wedding’s lovely.”
“Thanks for coming,” my dad murmurs to me in an appreciative tone. “It really means a lot to me.”
I stay silent, mulling his sincerity over in my head. It’s the first time I’ve allowed my dad to say something nice to me without spewing something defensive back. I don’t want to. And in a rare moment of letting my guard down, I drop my head on my dad’s shoulder and cling to his shoulders tightly.
“Alyson’s a keeper, Dad,” I say, barely a whisper, as I watch Alyson dance with a couple of her bridesmaids, all radiant and full of laughter. “Don’t let her go.”
“I won’t,” he says, jaw set at a determined angle. He pauses for a beat, swaying me for another full circle, before speaking again. “Look, I know I’m hard on you most times, Sienna. I just . . . I don’t want to lose this family. You, Alyson, and Beth are all I’ve got. And I know I haven’t been perfect.
Far from that, actually. But I’m gonna try to earn back that trust, okay?”
I really want to believe him. He’s made so many promises over the years that it’s hard to keep track of them now. Perhaps it’s time for another leap of faith. Because at the end of the day, he’s still my dad and I love him. Even though sometimes I really wish I didn’t.
“Okay,” I whisper.
A slow smile crosses his face and he rests his chin on my head, holding me in a protective and loving embrace, like a father does when his child feels broken.
When the song is over, I smack a kiss on my father’s cheek before heading back to my table, where Kayden’s seated and waiting for me with two glasses of champagne. I snatch a glass from him and down it in one go. The fizzing liquid burns as it rushes down my throat.
“Whoa, easy there.” Kayden peels the champagne glass from my grasp and sets it on the table.
I let out an unceremoniously unclassy burp and laugh to myself at how funny that sounds. Kayden chuckles at my behavior and pulls me into his lap, trapping me in his huge arms, and his lips are suddenly in my ear, gaze matching mine in the direction of Alyson and my dad as they take the dance floor together.
“Think we’ll be like them one day?”
I look at him. Really look at him.
“What are you implying?” I ask softly.
“You know what I’m implying,” he murmurs. “I’m talking about the whole marriage and kids thing.”
“Wait a minute.” I press a steady hand against his chest.
“We’re actually having the marriage and kids talk?”