Bella’s hand not around Jason went to the nape of Sally’s neck.
Carver took this all in, not missing a thing, especially not the fact that Jason shared his father’s unusual eye color.
“Well done, Isabella. Ready-made family. You claimed your fisherman and now you can finally play house like you’ve always wanted.”
The cruelty of his words sent Fiona reeling back several inches.
Was this man actually Bella’s father?
Prentice had a different reaction.
Again in a growl, this one as frightening as it was threatening, he demanded, “Fergus, I swear to Christ, get him the f**k out of here.”
It was Dougal that strode forward stating, “You’re done, mate.”
Carver glared at him. “Don’t lay a hand on me.”
“Allow me to lay a hand on you,” Mikey said from behind Carver then he bunched Carver’s suit jacket in his fist, turned and hustled the older man inelegantly out the door.
Fergus and Dougal’s father, Hamish, followed.
Bella and Fiona’s family stood still on the dance floor, the eyes of everyone in the room were on them.
Bella moved first. Pulling free of Prentice’s arm and gently disengaging from Sally and Jason only long enough to crouch down, she brought Sally in close with her arm and, with her other hand, she cupped Jason’s jaw and looked in his face.
“Are you okay, Jason?” she asked softly.
“Is that your Dad?” Jason asked in reply.
Tears threatening to roll down her cheeks, Bella didn’t answer. She just nodded.
“He’s a wanker,” Jason announced.
Fiona thought her son was not wrong.
Bella gave him a trembling smile.
Then she stood, letting go of the children, face pale, tears now rolling silently down her cheeks, she took in the assemblage gazing at her with varying degrees of sadness and compassion.
Her eyes caught on Annie.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Oh Bella,” Annie whispered back and started to walk toward her but Bella’s hand shot up.
“No,” she said, taking in a breath. “It’s me. That dark cloud follows me. I shouldn’t have come.”
Fiona’s heart squeezed.
Bella wrote a lot about her “dark cloud” in her journals.
A lot, a lot.
“Bella,” Annie breathed, obviously knowing about the dark cloud.
But Bella looked away.
She laid a hand on Jason’s head, sliding it down to rest on his cheek, she allowed herself that minute touch and then her hand dropped away.
She turned to Sally, cupping Fiona’s daughter’s cheek in her trembling hand, her fingers curled and she stroked that cheek with her knuckles before she turned to Prentice.
“Elle,” he murmured, his hand moving to her waist but she scurried away.
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“Baby.”
That was something else Fiona could do without. Prentice called Sally “baby” and Fiona had heard, a long time ago, him calling Bella that same endearment.
He’d never called her anything but “Fiona” or, when he was feeling affectionate, which she had to admit was often, he called her “Fee”.
She could do without hearing her husband’s deep brogue calling Bella “baby” in the same way he held her in bed that morning, like she was precious.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Bella repeated.
Then she turned on her hopelessly high heel and she gracefully ran.
Fiona always knew she could run gracefully in those heels.
Prentice didn’t hesitate, he went after her.
“Watch the children,” he ordered Debs when he passed his ashen sister.
Fiona sped behind them.
He caught her at her rental car.
Hands to her hips, he pulled her from the open door, slammed it, twirled her around, took a step into her and pinned her against the car.
“You didn’t leave me,” he declared, his voice hoarse.
She shook her head, those silent tears sliding down her cheeks.
“What did he do to you?”
She shook her head, refusing to answer.
Prentice’s hands went to either side of her neck and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Did he hit you?”
She stared up at him, mutely crying.
Prentice dipped his face to hers and his voice got soft, “Baby, did he hit you?”
She bit her lip and her eyes slid away.
Prentice’s head came up.
“Christ!” he swore so viciously, Fiona was surprised the windows on the cars didn’t shatter.
Bella winced.
“He kept you from Annie, didn’t he? When she got hurt. Because she was here. He kept you from her to keep you from me.”
She closed her eyes slowly.
Then she opened them and nodded.
“I can’t f**king believe this,” Prentice growled.
Bella finally spoke, her voice timid and soft, a voice Fiona had never heard, a voice Prentice (by the looks of him) never heard.
Nor did he like.
“It was for the best.”
“It was for the best?” he repeated, sounding appalled.
“I’m… you…” she stammered. “You wouldn’t have Jason. You wouldn’t have Sally.” It was Prentice who closed his eyes then and Bella went on, her voice getting stronger. “You wouldn’t have had Fiona.” Prentice’s eyes opened and pain was there, Bella saw it and she swallowed. Then her hand lifted and she touched the laugh lines at the sides of his eyes with her forefinger. “You wouldn’t have those, Prentice, because you wouldn’t have had the laughter I know Fiona gave you.”
Fiona felt her throat close as she watched Prentice bend his neck and rest his forehead against Bella’s.
“I have to go,” she whispered and his head shot right back up.
“Sorry?” he asked in a dangerous tone.
“I have to go,” she repeated.
Fiona watched Prentice’s eyes narrow. “What the f**k are you on about?”
“I have to go,” she said yet again.
Fiona got close and shouted, Don’t. Don’t Bella. This isn’t you. You aren’t the dark cloud. That was all your father. Don’t do this. Don’t go.
“You aren’t going,” Prentice declared.
“I am. I have to,” she told him.
“You aren’t and you can’t,” he shot back.
“Don’t you see?”
“No, I f**king well do not.”
Her body jolted. “Annie and Dougal’s wedding, perfect, except for me.”