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She turns me to face her. “Can’t you put a tampon up there?”

“No. Last thing I want is a manky vagina.” I chuckle at the horror on her face while I dress in my clothes and she goes about hanging my dress on its satin hanger. “This isn’t like a period, Cass.”

“I know, but…”

“It’s not like we’re going to be doing what other newly married couples do the night of their nuptials. I’m not cleared yet. I have another two weeks to go.” I force a smile, a lump forming in my throat at that spoken thought. “We’re going to get into bed and hope that Grace sleeps long enough so we can just have a moment of silence with each other.”

“Well, we could look after her for the night. Leo wouldn’t mind. He really does love Grace.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel comfortable with that. She’s too little, and I couldn’t bear to be away from her for so long.”

“It’s a night.”

“I know.”

“So…?”

“The thought alone makes the walls close in.”

Cassie hangs both of our dresses on the “yes” hook, and when we’re out, Grace is more than ready for her next feed. She’s so hungry that by the time I’ve settled into a seat to breastfeed her, she’s worked herself into a right state and I end up having to give her a bottle instead so that the other customers stop staring at us.

“I can’t leave you for ten minutes.” I brush her soft hair to one side. “Let alone a whole night.”

The dresses are barely bagged before Casper and the guys walk in. Freddie left a few days ago, and they’re all worried about what he’s going to do. I’d be lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t worried too.

Freddie is as much family to me as Cassie. Even knowing he was a big part of the reason we had to leave, I can’t ignore the fact that he’s hurting. His pain is driving him insane. Possibly literally given that he took off without letting anyone know.

“Georgina’s landing in about half an hour, so we need to get to the airfield. I don’t want her waiting around on her own. You know?” Casper says, taking the bag with my dress from the shop assistant. “Weighty.”

I grin up at him and take a moment to just ogle him. I can’t believe he’s actually mine. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything that was mine like he is. It’s scary, overwhelming, and so fucking incredible. I’m in constant awe of him and our daughter.

How did I get so lucky in the end?

It doesn’t take us long to get out of the dress shop and to the airfield. Grace is sleeping away when Georgina gets in the Range. She looks exhausted, like the last two weeks have completely whacked her one. Her eyes look puffy, darker than usual, and her normally neat hair is a disarray of frizzy chestnut curls.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Casper looks back at her from the front seat.

There’s no smile in sight when she tells him, “My career.”

My full heart threatens to shatter at the wistful sigh that echoes from her as she turns to look out of the window. And for the first time since we agreed that we would set my father free, I feel terrible. I feel as though I am the reason for her pain, because the sorrow on her face is soul-deep.

I have first-hand experience on that one. That kind of pain that tears you apart from the inside out. Until it bleeds you out slowly. Leaves you gutted. There’s only one thing that crushes you like that. Love.

“I want to see him.” I don’t need to tell Casper who I’m referring to because he’s listened to me drone on about how maybe we should give Freddie what he wants. “I need to know why he’s done all this. I need to understand.”

“Understand what, Fleur?” His monotone question doesn’t hide his irritation at my incessant worrying over the last two hours we’ve been back.

“Why. Why he killed my mum, and how he can live with himself knowing that he’s responsible for the murder of an innocent child. I want to know how he and Kingsley thought this would end. Was it some kind of twisted revenge?”

He stops behind me while I rinse out Grace’s bottle from her last feed. It seems as though she’s hungry constantly. If she’s not asleep, she’s eating or pooping.

Hands anchoring my hips, pressing me to him, he asks, “Why does any of that matter?”

“It does. To me. I spent my entire life looking at him and thinking that maybe I should’ve been a different person because it’s not like he was ever happy with me. I was never enough, and I know that it says more about him than me…I do. But I want to know why he held on to us?”

“Nothing good will come from any of those answers. If he gives you any. He’s not talking for anyone.” Kissing the top of my head, he waits until I’ve dried my hands before turning me to him. “If it were entirely up to me, he’d be a dead man already. I wouldn’t bother with any of this dragged-out shit. It’d be a bullet between the eyes and done. Easy. None of this to and fro that’s causing more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Some things require more than a bang-and-done approach.” Looking up at him, I take a deep breath, my hands flattening to his chest with my chin resting between them. “I’m going to talk to him.”

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