Page 158 of Beautiful Scars

I shake my head slowly. “Already given her the chance.”

His face hardens. “Me and you, we’re not... We’re not people who are loved. Cared about. She’ll leave.”

“We’ll see.”

“Aye.” He rubs his nose and goes to walk away, but stops mid-step. “Aye, we will see. We’ll see alright. You keep her close, Cillian.”

The threat in his voice is unmistakable as he flicks the butt of his cigarette in my direction and storms off.

I stand there for I don’t know how long.

Sarah appears. I ask her to go and see if Meisie’s alright.

Some skinny prick comes and asks if I have a lighter, so I give him one.

I smoke some more. Watch the stars. Try to calm myself down. “Some accent you’ve got there, mate.”

Skinny prick looks up. “Joburg.”

I narrow my eyes at him. We didn’t invite any of Meisie’s family. “You know my wife?”

My wife. Mine.

Instantly I’m just as annoyed as when Cole walked away. If I’m being completely honest with myself, I like the fact that the only person she has here is me. Sarah excluded because, well, Sarah’s also a girl.

The man holds out his hand. “I’m her cousin, Peet. Her father just walked in ahead.”

I guess I can deal with a cousin. Just. At least it’s not fucking Frittata.

“Cillian. Her dad’s here?” I shake his hand as I ask the question.

Peet nods. “Just got here. Her aunt’s here, too. Some flight! The connection in Munich was delayed so, well, we clearly missed the ceremony.”

They didn’t miss much, to be fair.

Probably for the best. Else we might have had an“I object!”from old Mr. Ford.

I don’t even know if that’s his last name. I don’t know if he would have objected.

Christ, I know the square root of fuck all about her family, besides her mother. As Peet here proves.

“Well, Meisie went for a lie down. Too much champagne. The bridesmaid’s away up to check on her.”

Peet pings his cigarette off into the distance. “Hope she comes back down. We were close...growing up.”

Really? How close? But I don’t ask that. I just stare at him, fully aware I’m being a man-child.

He points at the door. “I should go and keep Uncle James away from the whiskey. See you inside?”

“Aye. Right enough. Enjoy.”

Off he goes.

Meisie’s fucking father.

Jesus suffering.

How do you explain to a man that you kidnapped his daughter and forced her to marry you, but it’s alright, don’t fash yourself mate, because she kinda, sorta, dubiously consented to it. She likes it when I do what I want, and she could have peached me at any time. That’s not the kind of thing you just simply explain.