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“Yes,” I say, my voice betraying a sliver of hope. I don’t correct her, though I should. I’m pretty sure fairy tales don’t involve the sweet prince proposing with the ever romantic, “Marry me, or else.”
“Here,” Sofie says, her grin stretching wider than I’ve ever seen. She hands me a little gold box, and I open it carefully, puzzled when I see what’s inside.
I recognize this tartan instantly. It’s Da’s. The Mullvain one, rich red with its green and gold stripes. The very one I thought I’d never see again after Jimmy tossed out all of Da’s precious Scottish heirlooms.
Tears blur my vision, streaming down as I pull it out. “A tie?” I blubber, a little confused.
“Something new,” Lili cheers, her voice bright and innocent.
“They wanted you to do the honors,” Ricardo says with a grin. Then he lets out the loudest whistle, and on cue, Truffles bursts into the room.
My little dog, Truffles, is decked out in the most adorable black vest, standing perfectly still as I clip the bow tie on him. But the second it’s secured, he’s off, dashing around in wild circles, barking like a maniac. The girls erupt into squeals of delight, their laughter filling the room.
It’s mayhem. And I love it.
Dory enters with another woman, a blonde, stunning in a deep midnight-blue dress that makes her crystal blue eyes shine. She looks familiar, a memory tugging at the edges of my mind. Her hug is so tight, it drags me out of my wallow and slams me straight into the present.
“So, you’re the woman who tamed my beast of a brother?” she says, her voice warm and kind.
Her brother?
This must be Trinity. I’ve only glimpsed her briefly on a video call, and Enzo rarely speaks of her. But the few times he does, there’s a shadow in his eyes, a sorrow so profound it seems to consume him. It makes me wonder if his drive to rescue women somehow ties back to her.
“This is for you,” she says, a wide smile lighting up her face as she hands me a small, neatly wrapped gift.
I tug at the bow and unravel the tissue paper. What the— “Is this...um, Superman?”
It’s a small scrap of cloth, frayed at the edges, as if it’s been cut from an old bed sheet. In the middle, Superman stands poised, larger than life. I’m at a loss for words, so I manage a simple, “Thank you.”
“This was a piece of Enzo’s childhood blanket,” Trinity explains, brimming with nostalgia. “I kept it because no matter how big and blustery my brother gets, I know that deep down, he’s still that little boy, prancing around in his underwear, dreaming of saving the day.”
Her eyes glisten, and for a moment, the depth of their connection is apparent, a memory that binds them tightly. One she’s now sharing with me.
My heart clenches, a tender ache spreading through my chest because she’s right. Beneath Enzo’s gruff exterior and his relentless control freak ways, he’s always trying to save the day, isn’t he?
“Something blue,” she says softly. Then, she lifts my hand between us, her fingers tracing the delicate lines of the ring. “Something old,” she continues, sentimental as she admires the way it shines. “Enzo poured his heart into reimagining this ring. It looks perfect on you.”
I lean in, my voice barely a whisper. “Shouldn’t it be yours?”
She shakes her head with a gentle certainty. “No,” she murmurs sweetly. “It was always meant for you.”
By the time Dory steps over, Trinity and I are both teary-eyed, enough for her to pause. I hug her heartily. “Thank you for taking care of the girls.”
“Oh, they’re so easy. Angels, really.” Her eyes sweep the room as she nods. “So that takes care of it. Something old, something new, something blue. And Enzo said he’s taking care of something borrowed.”
Is he? What’s he up to?
I guess I’ll know soon enough as little hands drag me out of the room and into a waiting limo. Laughter bubbles up as the girls press every button in the car and belt out Taylor Swift songs at full blast.
Even the driver, the biggest, burliest one yet, with piercings through his neck and knuckles, bops his head to the tune, grinning from ear to ear.
With the sunroof open, my eyes fly up as the car rolls to a stop before the church. The sky is clear, not a single cloud, just a blanket of stars. “I wish you were here, Da,” I whisper, blinking through the tears.
Suddenly, Sofia cries out, “A shooting star! Make a wish! Make a wish!”
Absolutely everyone shuts their eyes, even Spike, our driver. I squeeze my eyes shut, my heart full of longing, and make my wish.
And when I get out, it comes true.
