Becoming the Whiskey Princess (34 page)

Looking over at Declan, I know I would be his.

I can see the whites of his knuckles; his jaw is taut and he just looks miserable. I started this, but I know I have just cause for it. His mother has scared me shitless. I want to live a happy life, but can I do that being an O’Callaghan? I know that, being with him, I have all these expectations of me, and they mean I’ll have to change. He keeps promising me that he won’t do that to me, but all I keep hearing is his mom’s warning.

My mom wouldn’t want me to do anything until I was completely sure. While I am completely sure I love him more than anything in this world, I don’t know if I can go into marriage with him believing that I’ll still be me in the end. I mean, I love who I am with him, but when his parents, and even his sister, get involved, all of a sudden I’m a tea dress-wearing snob. I just don’t know. I’m so scared, but then I don’t want to be without him. I just don’t know what I want.

When we pull into the lot of Fiona and Kane’s apartment, Declan turns the car off and taps his thumb along the steering wheel. I know this is where I’m supposed to get out, but I’m scared to. My heart is pounding, my hands feel clammy, and even my eye is twitching. I don’t know what to do; I’m just so fucking scared of everything, which is very unlike me. I’m usually a jump-in kind of girl, but his mom really fucked me up. My biggest fear is to lose the woman my parents raised. They wouldn’t want me to be what Noreen O’Callaghan is.

Over the last couple months, I’ve seen firsthand that she only cares about appearances. I couldn’t care less what I look like or who I’m supposed to impress. I just want to be comfortable. She wants to have parties, impress people all the time, yeah, again, I don’t care. I also don’t want to be in a loveless marriage. If she loved her husband, she’d spend more time in bed with him rather than walking in on me in bed with her son. Again, gross. She’s lost herself, and I don’t want to ever lose me. I love me.

But I love Declan.

Ugh, I’m so confused.

Reaching for the door handle, I pull it and push the door open. Letting one leg out, I look back at him. Should I kiss him bye? Or is he too mad at me? I mean, I’ve caused one hell of a mess with my explosive freak-out.

Before I can ask though, he says, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

My brows furrow as I look at his beautiful profile. “Waiting for me?”

“Yeah,” he says with a curt nod. “Go on inside, sleep on it. When yer ready to tell me one way or another, I’ll be here.”

“I can call you,” I supply, but he shakes his head.

“No, I want to be here.”

“But I’m going dress shopping with Fiona in the morning.”

He nods and then finally looks over at me. His eyes are so dark, even hard, like a gorgeous marble, but I can see the pain. I’ve really fucked up here, and even with all that, he doesn’t want to leave. He wants to be here. He wants to wait for me to get my “head out of my arse” as he said. Clearing his throat, he says, “And I’ll be waiting for ya, then.”

My lip starts to wobble as I nod slowly. “I’m sorry.”

He looks at me. “For what?”

“For being scared, for not believing in you the way I did before your mom messed it up.”

“It’s a part of life, Amberlyn, to be scared. The other thing, I know it’s in there, the trust, the believing. Ya just have to find it again. It’s lost in the shitstorm my ma has caused. I can’t help ya find it; ya won’t let me. So go on, I’ll be waiting.”

Tears stream down my face as I shake my head. I don’t want to be in a shitstorm without him. I want us to face it together, but why don’t I say that? What is wrong with me? Why am I so fucking scared?

Clearing my throat, I close my eyes before glancing back at him, sucking in a deep breath. “Do I kiss you goodbye?”

His eyes soften then. “Do you still want to?”

“Declan, I still love you. More than anything. I’m just so fucking scared.”

“There isn’t anything to be scared of, though. I’m not gonna to hurt ya, change ya, or anything else ya can come up with. I want only to love ya back.”

A tear runs down my cheek, splashing against my hand. “I’m just scared.”

Holding my gaze, he nods. “Fine, go on in there, then. Maybe Fiona can help ya with your fear since I can’t do shite, apparently.”

“It isn’t that; it—”

“Go on, Amberlyn,” he says, interrupting me. “I’ll be waiting.”

“So you don’t even want to talk about it?”

Looking back at me, he glares. “Amberlyn, do ya want to talk? ’Cause I’ve tried, and you want to leave. I bring ya here, and now ya want to talk? I don’t know what to do here, lass, and you aren’t helping me at all. Tell me what I have to do to make you feel better, to make this fear go away. I want you to be confident in us.”

“I am.”

“Then what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly because I don’t. I don’t know how to make this fear go away.

“Sure. Then, go on with ya,” he says, shaking his head.

I watch him for a moment, tears still streaming down my face as I try to figure out what to do. Do I leave? Do I stay? I have no clue. I’m so inexperienced when it comes to men, but I’m not stupid. I’m scared, and there has to be a reason for that.

Biting my lip, I wipe my face before asking, “So do you want to kiss me goodbye?”

Looking over at me, he just looks so sad. “Yer killing me, love.”

“I know,” I answer with a slow nod.

“But, I do. C’mere,” he says, his brogue thicker with all the emotion in his voice. Reaching for me, he holds my face for a second, his eyes searching mine. “This isn’t goodbye, though. You’ll go in there. Talk a bit with yer cousin and hopefully decide to believe me when I say I’m not gonna change ya.” Before I can say anything, his lips press against mine, my eyes drifting shut as we slowly kiss. I want to get lost in his kiss; I want to forget his mom altogether, but what if I’m right for feeling like this? What if I go upstairs and Fiona begs me to leave him?

Will I?

Could I?

Pulling my mouth from his, I know it won’t be easy, but I need someone’s input. I need to talk to someone.

But what I really need is my mom.

Getting out of the car, I go to shut the door as Declan says, “I love you, Amberlyn.”

Unable to look at him because I know if I do, I’ll lose it even more, I say, “I love you too.”

I then shut the door and head to the front door. After I knock on it, Fiona opens the door and a huge grin comes over her sweet face. I must have pulled her from bed; she’s wearing sweats and a tee with her hair pulled up on her head. She looks a little pale and I worry she’s sick, but before I can ask, she looks at my bag and then back at me, her brows furrowed.

“Oh no, what happened?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says ushering me in, holding me close to her. “Yous didn’t break up, did ya?”

I shake my head, my tears coming faster down my cheeks. Sitting on the couch, she takes my bag, throwing it on the floor before gathering me into her arms.

“Now tell me what’s wrong?”

I explain it all. How I feel like I don’t fit in, how his mom is always trying to make me into this person I’m not, how I found my mom’s picture in her study, and all about their past. Then about Declan and my fight.

“He’s out there, waiting. Like a fucking gentleman, and it kills me, Fiona. But what if I’m making a mistake?”

She nods, her head leaning on mine as she sucks in a deep breath. “But what if leaving him would be the biggest mistake of your life?”

Hiccupping on a sob, I close my eyes. “I don’t want to leave him. I want to be with him, but I don’t want to be what they want me to be.”

“Then don’t.”

“It’s hard though.
‘Being an O’Callaghan, you have expectations
,’ you’re the one who told me that from the beginning.”

Pulling back, she looks at me, a grin forming on her lips. “And you’ve not become one of them. You are still the same girl you were when you came here, just more in love than anything.” Moving a piece of my hair out of eyes, she holds my gaze as she goes on, “What is a name, Amberlyn? Just ’cause that name is one thing doesn’t mean it’s you. He isn’t going to do that to you. He loves you too much.”

“I’m just scared.”

Holding me tightly, she whispers, “My dad once told me that fear is a liar. That it makes you believe something that isn’t true. Or something that will never even happen. Do you really, in your heart, believe that Declan would have you be anyone but who you want to be? Hasn’t he been the one changing? I mean, the Declan now versus the one before, whoa! And you? It’s easy to see you’re loved. You’re glowing. He wouldn’t dim that for nothing. He feeds off yer light. I mean ya ask him to move out of his house and he’s considering it; that’s huge since he wants to live there till his dying day, yeah?”

“Considered it. He’s probably waiting for the moment to tell me he doesn’t want to go, and then it starts. I’m stuck in that damn house ’cause I’m not going to leave him. I love him. That’s probably why he wanted me to wait till after we were married. I’m not going anywhere, then!”

Looking deep into my eyes, Fiona shakes her head. “Do ya really think that? I mean, everything I’ve seen, he’s bent over backwards to make sure you had, or he went against everything his parents said. He’s been doing that from the beginning. Is it really this, or is it because she did your ma dirty and you still don’t like her?”

“It isn’t that I don—”

“Ya don’t like the woman, and that’s fine. Who really likes their mother-in-law? Well, minus Kane’s ma; she’s a true sweetie.”

I shrug as tears flood my eyes. “I don’t know. It just bothers me that she felt she needed to warn me of how Mr. O’Callaghan changed her.”

“Did ya think maybe she isn’t happy and sees how happy you and Dec are? That she is losing her son to ya? Misery loves company, Amberlyn.”

“I know,” I say with a nod. “But I don’t want to think of her as being deceptive like that.”

“Well, don’t. But don’t hold Declan to it.”

“No?” I ask. “What if it’s a sign to run?”

“Would ya run?”

I look at her with wide eyes. “I came to your house.”

“’Cause ya knew I would tell ya to go back,” she says just as the door opens and Kane comes stomping in.

“I smell like hell. Don’t come near me ’cause I’m going right back out.”

“Didn’t plan on it,” she calls back at him. “Where ya off to?”

“Well, since yer best friend and my best friend are fighting, I’m gonna go sit with mine and get smashed while yous two cry in ya ice cream or whatever ya lassies do,” he says as he rustles through the fridge.

With a grin, she says, “Love ya, honey.”

“Love ya too. Get yer head out yer arse there, Amberlyn,” he calls before going back out the door, slamming it behind him.

Fiona grins over at me and says, “Ya know, I love that man.”

I roll my eyes. “’Cause he’s a good guy. You two complete each other.”

“Yer right. Do ya think he’d love Declan the way he does if Declan weren’t a stand-up guy?”

Looking down, I shake my head. “I don’t think he isn’t. I’m just scared to lose myself.”

“Ya won’t. Yer too strong, Amberlyn.”

I know this. I do, and I know that I am being a little ridiculous, but something is holding me back from getting up and going back home with Declan.

“Amberlyn, what do you want?”

Looking down, I bite my lip. Tears gather in pools in my eyes, making my vision blurry. I know what I want. “I want my mom.”

“Aw, sweetie, come here.”

As she gathers me in her arms, I don’t know why I said that. Yes, I want my mom—I would do anything to have her back—but maybe it’s because I need her here. I need to hear from her that I am being dumb and that I won’t change. That I’ll be me no matter what. I want her to meet Declan and love him the way I do. I want my dad to walk me down the aisle and tell me how gorgeous I am as he gives me away. Is this really what my problem is?

“Didn’t ya tell me that she loved Declan in your dream?”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I nod. “She did.”

“Okay, don’t ya think that means something?”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding my head. “I just miss her.”

A sob escapes my lips as I fall into her lap, closing my eyes tightly as I cry. She doesn’t say anything as she runs her hands through my hair, slowly massaging my head as we sit in complete silence. Gathering me tighter to her, she kisses my forehead.

“What if ya went back to the States?”

Opening my eyes, I look up at her. “Huh? What for?”

“To go see her. Yer da too. Maybe it will make you feel better, and maybe it will also help with knowing that you’ll never change because they raised ya.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe it’s the fact that everything is changing so fast, ya know? You need that reassurance. Go back to your roots and get that. I think it might help.”

Holding her gaze, I think that through. It’s a good idea. Maybe it will help. But then I shake my head. “The wedding is in three weeks.”