Page 60 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“Oh, Luce, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t tell Nat I said that. She goes ballistic worrying about me. Someday, I fear she will fly a plane into our back field and kidnap me back to London with nary a word.”

Sanne snickered. “But would you fight her?”

“Somedays? No. Many days.” Lucy sounded distant.

“Lucy, you’re always welcome. We’re moving into Duncan and Rebecca’s old digs at KP. We will need the room. Come visit or stay with Nat and Ed. They would never tell you no.”

“I know,” Lucy said. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Winston has his sanctuary to run and it takes up all his time. Tearing him away is impossible.”

“Life is too short to be miserable, Lucy,” Sanne said. “I hope you can find something you love about it. I think buying our house in Whitstable was the smartest thing we ever did. Listening to the sea soothes me. It will never be home like Lake Michigan feels, but it does me some good. Paul tried hard to build me a retreat. You need to find that space too, okay?”

Lucy nodded, tears welling. “Uh, I’m going to go… walk.”

“Okay,” Sanne turned to Keir.

Something had to give. Sanne’s heart broke. She could tell things weren’t great. Lucy and Winston had been somehow distant since they arrived. She wanted to shake Winston and tell him that Lucy suffered while he went on about his life as if nothing happened. She knew he cared about her. She knew Lucy was bad at asking for help.

And, unlike Paul, Winston seemed unwilling to see the crisis befalling him. Paul had seen Sanne languishing in London. He knew she missed the shoreline and a simple town and wanted to raise the children like normies. So, he decided they would house hunt in Whitstable, a beautiful, idyllic little village on the Kentish coastline. Its cheerful fishermen’s cottages and beautiful views were a balm for Sanne. She was only ninety minutes from London and could still feel normal. Lucy, however, was a city mouse who hated the countryside. She had the opposite problem. Sanne hoped the two could reach an equitable agreement before resentment brewed.

“Come here,” Ed took Natalie’s hand.

“Edwin, you hate to dance.”

“I do, but you love it, so come here,” Ed pulled Natalie to the dance floor. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

“Because I didn’t want to seem needy.”

“You are allowed to ask for a dance. You’re my wife, last I checked.”

Natalie beamed, her smile radiant. She couldn’t have been more beautiful than at this moment. Ed was filled with adoration and nostalgia. He didn’t mind a dance if it made her happy. He wanted nothing more.

“You’re so dashing in this tux, it makes me want to go find a place to shag,” Natalie laughed. “Don’t we always do that at weddings?”

Ed thought a moment. “Kind of, I guess?”

“We did at Gerry’s and Sanne and Paul’s.”

“We’re terrible people.”

Natalie smiled slyly. “Who thrive on maybe getting caught and causing a scandal.”

“Given Olav’s naughty texts caused a scandal but didn’t stop the wedding, we’re gonna be okay.”

Natalie saw her sister dancing with her new husband. Ed saw the same thing, a happy memory in the making.

“That was us once,” Natalie sighed.

“Uh-huh,” Ed said. “A little over two years ago, I married you in front of billions.”

“And thus began your regret,” Natalie joked.

“Never. I have zero regrets—apart from the fact that I didn’t get to marry you the first time around. Of course, I learned how to be a better human by learning how not to have a marriage. Still, I wish it had always been you.”

“Says the man who shouted at me upon finding my identity one morning.”

Ed chuckled. “I was livid.”

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