“I’d prefer to drive myself.”
“Why?”
Why, indeed.
Her hands clenched into fists.
Because being with you is killing me especially since you obviously hate me and I’ve never fallen out of love with you.
Because realizing there are more reasons why it was for your own good that I broke your heart hurts like hell. No Sally, no Jason, even with Fiona dead you had more in those years from her than you’d ever get from me.
Because I need a moment away from all that is you and your beautiful children to get my head together so I can deal with the day.
All of this Isabella thought but did not say.
“I just would,” she said instead.
“You’re coming with us,” he repeated.
“Prentice –”
“Sally wants you with us.”
Isabella snapped her mouth shut.
Well then, who could argue with that?
“I’ll get my purse,” she muttered and to her dismay, he barely shifted to the side so she had to squeeze by him, sucking in her belly and breath to get around him and her br**sts still brushed his chest when she went by.
A heady thrill jolted through her body at that slight touch. A thrill he’d given her before, many a time. A thrill that she remembered like the last one she’d had was only yesterday.
Her fists tightened, her nails bit into her palms and she hurried to her room.
* * * * *
Fiona
Fiona floated with her family (and Isabella) to the front door.
Prentice was furious. Jason seemed confused. Sally was simply tired.
Isabella was wearing a brave face but the hideousness of the day had taken its toll. She was pale and there was a tightness about her eyes that was heartbreaking.
And her hands were clenched into permanent fists.
Fiona had been born in her village and she’d been proud of being a member of its community her whole life.
Until that day.
She knew, because she felt it herself, that everyone had felt duped by Isabella, not just Prentice. They all loved her, including Fiona. It got worse when she never returned even after the terrible accident that tore Annie and Dougal apart. That feeling had intensified further as she’d publicly moved on, living the high life of international fame and celebrity.
But, even if only for Annie’s sake, they could at least attempt to be polite.
Instead of vicious.
At Annie’s request, the minute Isabella hit Fergus’s house, she ran to the kitchen to start making dozens and dozens of Annie’s favorite cookies. The picnic was catered including a luncheon and then an American-style bonfire that night, roasting hot dogs on sticks and making s’mores which Fiona had never had but thought they looked delicious.
Isabella let Sally help but the making of cookies put Prentice in a bad mood which drove him to broody, something which Isabella ignored, in fact, she seemed to be doing her best to ignore Prentice as much as she could which, in turn (strangely, Fiona thought) was something Prentice seemed to be working at not allowing.