Clearly, she had a purpose for being on earth with her family. To make certain that everything was going to be all right. Now she figured that purpose was gone and her still being there was just plain mean. Or, perhaps, whatever powers that be were busy and she was low on the priority list.
Sure, she supposed she was happy that her family was healing and moving on.
But did she have to have her nose rubbed in it?
She understood when the dancing started.
The first dance was for Dougal and Annie and, again, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
Then Annie danced with Fergus and Dougal danced with Jennifer.
As they were taking their seats, Annie grinning for some reason nervously, Fiona materialized behind her. She was seating herself beside Bella and as the DJ asked the best man and maid of honor to take the dance floor, Annie quickly turned to her friend.
“I’m sorry, Bella. I arranged this a long time ago and –”
She didn’t get to finish, Prentice, never far from Bella, claimed her.
Wordlessly pulling her out of her seat, he guided her to the dance floor and then he took her in his arms.
And they danced alone on the dance floor, everyone watching, to Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer”.
For those who didn’t get it, watching Prentice and Bella sway barely moving, they would get it.
Even Fiona had to admit they fit perfectly. Prentice’s handsome dark head bent, his cheek pressed to hers, his lips at her ear. Bella’s beautiful white-blonde head tipped back, her cheek against his, her eyes carrying a sheen of tears, her lips trembling. Prentice’s arm was around her waist, noticeably tight. Her arm was around his shoulders, holding on as if that hold was the only thing keeping her standing.
His fingers, laced in hers, were lifted and pressed with Bella’s hand twisted and resting against his heart.
The room had melted from existence and everyone in it knew they were superfluous to what was happening on the dance floor to the sweet words of a sad, sad song.
It was a Scottish fairytale come alive, right before their eyes.
And Fiona could take no more.
She had a soft heart but this was ridiculous.
Then, on the closing notes to the song, a cold, imperious, loud voice sounded across the room.
“I should have known.”
Bella went still as a statue, almost like she was made of marble.
Prentice’s head shot up.
Fiona drifted so she could stare toward the edge of the dance floor.
An older man with impossibly good posture stood there wearing a suit and a venomous expression on his face.
Fiona had never seen him in her life and she still didn’t like him.
Bella slowly unlaced her hand from Prentice’s and turned around.
“Dad,” she whispered in a horrified voice, “what are you doing here?”
Oh God.
That was Bella’s father?
He took a step forward and raked scathing eyes down Bella’s body.