Fairytale Come Alive (Ghosts and Reincarnation #4)(102)
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.
Fiona put the glasses out of her mind and followed them.
She had bigger fish to fry.
Read her journals, read her journals, READ HER JOURNALS! Fiona shouted to Prentice.
They stepped over the threshold.
Fiona followed them.
When she did, she hit black.
Not her tent by the apple tree and the stream.
Black.
Pitch.
She floated to a stop, suddenly terrified out of her mind.
Where was she?
She wasn’t real here, she was floating.
She looked down at herself.
See-through.
Oh no.
Was this hell?
Did she do something wrong?
In a panic, she floated forward, banged into an invisible barrier and was thrown back.
No! she shouted.
She didn’t want to be alone for eternity with a silk tent, a guitar and some books, no matter how pretty the place was.
And she didn’t want to be with her family for eternity, haunting them, watching them live their lives but never being a part of it.
But she really didn’t want to be here (wherever here was). It was dark. It was frightening. And if she stayed there, she’d never know if Prentice breathed life back into Bella, just like the prince in a fairytale.