What You Left Behind - Len Webster Page 0,8

Noel’s voice had Julian exaggerating a groan before he let Clara go.

Once he had stepped back, Julian rolled his eyes at the sight of Noel’s arm around Clara’s waist. He was a tad jealous. But he was extremely happy for them both. Clara gazed up at her husband and smiled. It was at that moment that Julian saw what Noel did when it came to Clara. Her natural beauty and the way she smiled towards Noel had Julian understanding. That smile of hers could make any man weak.

“Clara, when you get tired of his possessiveness, come find me. I’ll show you a good time.” Julian winked. Noel tensed and the group laughed.

“You can wish all you like, Moors. She has my last name and my ring. You try and I’ll come after you,” Noel warned.

Laughing, Clara turned and placed both hands on her husband’s cheeks. “I’m your wife. Now until forever, Nolan.”

“That’s never going to sound old to me, baby,” Noel said as he kissed Clara.

Julian gagged, still not used to them actually being a couple. Over Clara’s shoulder, a shimmer of blonde caught his attention. He focused his eyes, and for a minute, he thought he saw those blue eyes that haunted him. Julian blinked once; the sight left him, and the ache returned. Shaking his head, he knew he was seeing things.

She was never coming back.

Stepping onto the path, Stevie answered the call and walked towards the gazebo where Noel and Clara had vowed to be man and wife earlier. The picture of her mother’s face was the last thing she wanted to see while celebrating her best friend’s wedding, but Stevie had ignored her mother’s calls for far too long. Leaning on the railing of the bridge, she sighed and held her phone to her ear.

“Hello, Mum,” she breathed out, bothered.

“Pardon?” Collette’s French accent was still as strong as Stevie remembered. She knew her mother never liked her speaking English, but Stevie had grown up in Australia and kept her French background a secret.

Stevie sighed and pursed her lips, knowing what her mother really wanted out of a hello. “Bonjour, Maman.”

“Oh, Stéphanie. Why do you insist on speaking to me in English? Tu es parisienne, ma chérie,” Collette said.

You’re Parisian, my dear.

“Maman, I am as Parisian as a French fry. I live in Melbourne and the only time I use French is when I talk to you or Grand-maman and Grand-papa. Why can’t you speak to me in English? You were the one who left me for Paris and London,” Stevie reminded, aiming for her mother’s guilty conscience.

“Ma chérie, why must you make things hard for me? Your papa didn’t think taking you back to Paris was good. He wanted to raise you in Australia. Better opportunities for you, no?” Collette asked, using the same excuse every time.

“I’m at Clara’s wedding. This is not a good time. I have to go.” Stevie pushed off the railing and turned for the golf club.

Collette was quiet then Stevie heard her take a deep breath. “Come back to Paris, Stéphanie. Grand-maman and Grand-papa miss you. I’m returning in two months, and you said it yourself, there’s nothing there for you in Melbourne now that your friends are married. I can get you a job. Your oncle has connections, too.”

Stevie chewed her bottom lip. When she found out that Clara would be moving to Boston to be with Noel, Stevie had re-evaluated her life. With Annie and Jarred married, there wasn’t much Melbourne could offer her. In a moment of self-pity, she had called her mother and spoke of her unhappiness.

“Yes, I know Oncle Patrice can get me a job. But I don’t want to be a photographer or be anywhere near your world. I can’t leave Papa. I can’t leave him like you did. You can all come visit me. Why do I have to go all the way to London and Paris to visit you? I have to go,” Stevie said annoyed and began to walk off the bridge and back towards the reception.

“Cela pourrait être une excellente opportunité pour toi,” Collette tried to convince.

This could be an excellent opportunity for you.

Stevie shook her head. “Papa got me an internship at an advertising company. I can’t let him down.”

“All right. Just think about it. I’d like you to come home to me and to Paris. Profites bien du mariage. Je t’aime, ma chérie.”

Enjoy the wedding. I love you, my dear.

Stevie didn’t respond to her mother’s love and hung up

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