“What if I go first?”

“I’ll follow ye.”

“Do you think after everything we could actually make this work?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“Because I won’t give up. No matter how angry ye get when old hurts pop up, or how long it takes until ye trust me again, I’ll be right here, lovin’ ye.”

Her eyes and her nose were red and swollen, testaments to the fact that she’d spent the last few hours upset, but she smiled tremulously.

“I can’t believe I said all that in front of your friends,” she said, shaking her head. “They must think I’m a lunatic.”

“Dey don’t t’ink anyt’in’ of de sort,” I argued in disbelief. “Dey t’ink ye lived through somet’in’ horrible—ye’ll find dat many of dem have dere own stories to tell. No shame in dat.”

We heard someone come to the door then, and Slider’s muffled voice telling them to move the fuck away.

Instinct had me moving Amy off me as the door opened, and we were both on our feet before I saw who it was.

“Pop?” I should have fuckin’ known it would be Brenna. I couldn’t imagine anyone else completely ignoring Slider.

I heard my president yelling as he came down the hall, and Brenna jumped before scooting inside the door.

“I went to the john for two fuckin’ minutes,” Slider said in apology as he stopped at the open doorway.

My mouth twitched and I turned in irritation to my daughter. “What do ye need, Brenna?”

I wanted to be alone with my wife, and I was a mix of frustration and worry as I watched my daughter fidget. I know she’d heard it all, and I wanted to explain, but not then. Not when Amy was silent behind me and I could feel her nervousness as if it were my own.

“Is it true? What she said—is it true?”

“Out, Brenna,” Slider growled, taking a step forward.

“She’s fine, Charlie,” Amy argued, stepping to the side so she could meet Brenna’s eyes.

“Were you telling the truth?” Brenna asked, her voice breaking.

I was so bloody torn. My little girl looked as if she was about to cry, but Amy’s hand was shaking against my back where she’d clutched my t-shirt in her fist.

“What’re ya doin’, baby?” Dragon asked as he pushed past Slider.

Jesus Christ, the entire fuckin’ club would be in my room soon.

“I just—” tears filled Brenna’s eyes and I was suddenly grateful that Dragon showed up, because he immediately pulled her into his side and I didn’t have to step away from Amy.

“You ready to go, Mum?” Nix called, making Slider throw his hands in the air and walk away.

I didn’t blame him. I wished I had locked the fucking door.

“I—” Amy looked between Phoenix and I, and I knew the instant she stopped being afraid of disappointing the boy in front of her and became his mum again.

“Sit down, Phoenix,” she said firmly, making his jaw drop. “We’re going to need more chairs—” she glanced around the room, “—and scotch. I need a scotch.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Dragon offered, lifting Brenna’s face to kiss her on the lips before striding out the door.

I fucking hated when he did that, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t think I’d ever be comfortable with his hands on her, but I’d realized over the last couple of years that he worshipped Brenna. I couldn’t really ask for more than that.

We watched each other silently until Dragon returned with two chairs, Grease right behind him carrying the Scotch and four glasses.

“Lock de door on yer way out,” I ordered as Grease left the room.

“We know you have questions,” Amy said, sitting gingerly on the bed. “And I understand, I do. But to understand it all, we have to start at the beginning.”

She looked at me with solemn eyes, and once again I saw the girl I’d married all those years ago.

The loveliest woman I’d ever seen.

***

Amy and I spoke for hours while the children watched and listened.

She spoke about how it was for her growing up with parents that didn’t care and described the day she’d met my mum, a story I’d never heard before.

I spoke about Ireland, growing up with my da gone, and studying at University.

We both spoke about the night we met and the few months before we were married.

I explained how I’d gotten pulled into fighting for a cause I wasn’t sure I believed in.

We described our wedding… and our marriage—about how young and full of dreams we’d been.

Amy described the morning my da died…I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat.

We went over everything that had happened, both from my point of view and hers… and as we discussed the years apart, I think we both learned about things we hadn’t known or understood before.

By the time we were finished, the bottle of scotch was gone and I was fucking exhausted.

“I thought—” Brenna looked down at her thighs, resting on top of Dragon’s lap. “I guess I never knew that my mom—”

“Don’t go dere,” I warned gently, leaning forward from my perch on the edge of the bed. “I loved yer mum. I did. She gave me ye, and she was a good woman. A great one. But she knew I was married—dere were never any secrets between us.”