He walked away, explaining, “We’re going outside.”
“We are?”
He pulled on a jumper. “Aye. Best place in the house.”
He grabbed the wine and then guided her out the door to the balcony. He put the glasses on the railing and saw her give them a funny look while he uncorked the wine.
Then her eyes went to his face. He couldn’t see her clearly in the dark but he felt her gaze.
“Pren,” she said softly.
He cut her off. “We need to talk about Fee.”
Even though she was two feet away, Prentice felt her go still.
He ignored it and poured the wine. Handing a glass to her, he took a sip from his.
Then Prentice decided it was f**king well time to get a few things straight. Straight enough so that head of hers couldn’t twist them, no matter how hard she tried.
He got close and circled her with an arm around her chest, turning her so her back was to his front. He rested his weight against the railing and put pressure against her chest with his forearm as indication she should rest her weight against him.
She struggled with this for a moment. When he didn’t release the pressure, with a sigh she relaxed against him.
His eyes went to the sea.
The night was chill, the moon mostly hidden, the sea only a midnight blue blanket with caps of white.
As it always did, this vision settled him.
“I loved her,” Prentice whispered and Elle went solid against him for only a moment before her hands came up. Her fingers curling on his forearm, she left them where they were and she relaxed. Prentice went on, “I still do.”
“You miss her,” Elle said softly.
“Aye. Every day. Even after all this time, I can open the front door and forget she won’t be on the other side.”
Her hands squeezed his arm.
“We were happy,” Prentice told her.
Elle nodded but he heard her breath hitch.
This time his arm squeezed her.
“I’ll always love her, Elle.”
“Of course,” she whispered.
He took a sip from his wine and then rested his jaw against her head.
“I’m a man who’s been blessed.”
Her body jolted again and she stammered, “Wh… what?”
“I had Fee. She was no’ long meant for this world but I knew her since she was wee and she was mine for awhile. It was a blessing.”
Elle relaxed and nodded again. “You’re right, Pren.”
“Then,” he continued, “you came back.” She went solid as a rock against him but he ignored it and carried on, “I’ve lived a good life in this village, with Fee, but you’re still the best thing that’s been in it.”
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
He ignored that too, put his wine glass on the railing and his mouth to her neck.
“To have Fee, who gave me her and then Jason and Sally and then to have you,” he murmured. “I’m a man who’s been blessed.”
“Pren –” she started but her breath hitched again and she stopped.
“Come back to me, Elle,” he coaxed softly.
She was pulling at his arm with her hands now but he held strong.
“I don’t give a f**k about the photographers,” he told her. “If they come with you, then Jason, Sally and I’ll get used to it.”
“You don’t know how bad it can get.”
“I don’t care, either.”
“You can’t say that.”
His mouth left her neck, his jaw went back to her head and his other arm stole around her belly.
“Aye, I can.”
“You can’t,” she said firmly.
She was digging in.
He decided to switch topics.
“Tell me about your ex-husband.”
Her body jerked again.
Off-guard.
Good.
“What? Why?” she asked, her voice higher pitched.
“Because I want to know.”
“Why would you possibly want to know?”
“Because he was part of your life and I want to know about your life which means I want to know about him.”
“He isn’t that interesting.”
“Likely no’. You’re still going to tell me.”
“Pren –” she started, his arms tightened and she stopped.
His voice dipped lower when he demanded, “Tell me.”
She was silent. This lasted awhile.
Finally, she said softly, “Actually, I think this is good.”
“What?”
“Telling you about Laurent.”
Laurent.
Christ, he even hated the man’s name.
Over the years, he didn’t think much of Laurent Evangelista because he didn’t allow himself to think much of Elle.
When Prentice heard about their public split, he did think Laurent Evangelista was all kinds of fool for leaving Elle and going off with a shoddier version.
Now, he hated him.
No, actually, he detested him.
Because someone should have done something about that father of hers, those dreams of hers and how she fisted her hands in that alarming way.
And it was clear Laurent Evangelista did none of those things.
“I didn’t love him,” Elle announced, taking him from his thoughts.
“What?” Prentice asked, surprised.
“I didn’t love him. I never loved him,” she repeated. “Looking back, I’m not certain I ever even liked him.”
At that, it was Prentice’s body that grew solid. Feeling it, with a rough jerk, she pulled away. He allowed this because he sensed she needed it.
He’d disallow it the minute she did not.
She walked two steps, put her glass to the railing and then turned to him.
“You won’t be surprised to hear that I married him because my father wanted me to. There wasn’t much I did that my Dad didn’t want me to do.” She waited for that to sink in and, when she received no response, she went on, “Dad liked him. Thought he was a good catch. Said Laurent was our people. He’d known Laurent’s parents for years.”
“Elle –” he stopped speaking when she turned to face the sea and kept talking.
“I thought, though, that I’d get something from it. Finally get something I wanted,” she told the sea and her voice dropped to a whisper when she continued, “I was wrong.”
She was talking about children. A family.
It was time to disallow the space she no longer needed.
Prentice approached, Elle retreated but he didn’t let her go. He caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, sliding his arms tight around her.