She stood stiff in his embrace.
“Why didn’t you adopt?” he asked quietly.
“Laurent didn’t want to adopt, so, we didn’t adopt.”
The way she spoke made it clear that, in her desire to build a family, she tried that too.
And she, again, failed.
In other words, what Laurent wanted or didn’t want, Laurent got.
No matter what Elle wanted.
Yes, Prentice detested him.
“You know what’s funny?” she asked the sea, her face turned away from him, her gaze thoughtful.
“No, baby. What’s funny?”
“He divorced me.” She looked at him and continued, “I never wanted him and, in the end, he divorced me. Isn’t that funny?”
What it was, was ironic.
What it was not, was funny.
He didn’t answer, he simply pulled her closer. Her head tipped back further to keep her eyes on him and her hands came to rest lightly on his waist.
Prentice liked the feel of Elle’s hands on his waist. He’d like it better if it was her arms around his waist.
“Why do you think that?” she asked quietly.
He put a hand to her jaw and stroked her cheek with his thumb, asking, “Think what?”
“What you said about me. That I was the best thing to come in your life. With all the gifts you’ve been given, how can you think that?”
His mind flooded with all that was Elle.
Her pancakes. Her cookies. Her smile.
The way she cared for his home.
The way she cared for his family.
The way she handled Sally with infinite patience appearing to enjoy every second.
The way she understood what Jason needed and gave it to him after Prentice spent a year trying to figure it out.
The way she kept his children’s mother’s memory alive instead of trying to bury it deep.
The way she could make him laugh when she forgot to be Isabella and, instead, was Elle.
The way she responded to his hands, his mouth, his c**k moving inside her.
The way she consistently gave of herself, second by second, to him, to his children, to her friends the latter to whom she’d been giving for years, without even noticing she was doing it or expecting that first thing in return.
Prentice was in love with her.
And he’d been in love with her for over twenty years.
But now, knowing what he knew about how she’d helped Annie with unfailing determination and seeing what he saw when she dropped everything and raced to his daughter’s bedside at the hospital, he loved her even more.
He’d had a beautiful run with Fiona and he loved his wife deeply.
But he’d never been in love with Fee.
Not the way he’d always been in love with Elle from the first time he saw her with Annie, her beautiful face lit up with laughter, walking into the same pub they went to last night.
He studied that face in the dim light and slid his thumb along her lower lip.
“How can I no’?” he answered her question with a question.
She shook her head and tried to pull away.
His hand left her face so his arm could lock around her back.
She stilled and whispered, “I don’t understand.”
He pulled her even closer. “You don’t have to understand. I do. Isn’t that enough?”
She shook her head again, her body still tight. “I don’t think –”
He cut her off, asking, “Do you like it here?”
He felt her frame jerk and she stammered, “P… pardon?”
“Do you like this house?” he enquired.
She slightly relaxed and her voice was soft when she replied, “It’s a beautiful house, Pren.”
“Do you like being with the children?”
Her voice was suddenly firm (and slightly loud) when she replied, “Of course I do!”
His fingers went to her hair, pulling out the holder so its weight tumbled into his hand.
He fisted it, dipped his face closer and asked, “Do you like being with me?”
“Pren –”
“Answer me, Elle.”
She tried to turn her head away but he held her fast with his hand in her hair.
“Elle –” he prompted.
“What does it matter?” she whispered.
“Because if you like it and you want it, you can have it,” he told her, pulling her head back so he could rest his forehead on hers. “I think it’s about time you get what you want, baby. Don’t you?”
He was getting somewhere. He knew this because her body relaxed into his and her hands at his waist slid around his back.
“I like it,” she said softly and her body pressed closer. “And I want it.”
Yes, thank Christ, he was finally getting somewhere.
He felt like roaring his triumph.
He didn’t because she went on.
“But –” she began.
His hand in her hair tightened, his other arm giving her a squeeze, stopping her next words.
“No,” he stated firmly.
“But, Pren –”
This time, he dropped his head and he kissed her silent.
That worked.
Just like it always did.
Her weight was resting fully against his body when he lifted his head.
“You want it,” he said, touching her lips with his again. “I want it.” He touched her lips again. “And the children want it. We’ve all lost enough. It’s time to move onto something better.”
“Okay,” she whispered, suddenly acquiescent, dropping her head, putting her cheek to his chest and snuggling close.
He held her for a long time.
Then he kept her in his arm as he reached for her glass, handing it to her.
Then he reached for his own.
They drank their wine together and silently watched the sea.
* * * * *
Fiona
You’re getting somewhere, Fiona told her husband as she floated, arse to the railing, beside Prentice and Bella.
Her husband didn’t answer.
You think you’ve cracked it, though, and you aren’t even close, Fiona continued.
Prentice showed no signs of hearing her.
Fiona leaned forward and whispered fiercely, Prentice, read her journals!
Prentice swallowed the last sip of his wine and put his glass on the railing next to Bella’s already empty one.
He turned Bella toward the door.
Brilliant, now Bella was leaving glasses outside. Fiona didn’t particularly relish the fact that Prentice took Bella outside in the first place, seeing as he never did that with her. But, she really didn’t relish both of them leaving the glassware to fend for their inanimate selves in the wild, Scottish elements.