Page 58 of Kyle
Anthony touched her arm in warning, when she opened her mouth to respond.
Shoving back the chair, she rose, forcing her date to get up. "I don't have to stand for this. I see I'm not wanted here." Her gaze swept the room. "I don't have to sit here and take any of it." Tears shimmered in her eyes as she stared at her ex-husband. "You've always taken her side. It was always about your precious Ingrid. You were always defending her, talking about how smart she is. 'Ingrid this and Ingrid that' well, screw all of you. Anthony, we're leaving."
"Let me get your coats." Kissing his wife's hand before letting go, Kyle pushed back his chair, a militant glint in his eyes that warned her he was out for a pound of flesh.
"Let me--"
"No." He pressed her back. "I'll see to it."
She waited a beat, before excusing herself from the table. Keeping her distance, she saw when her husband handed them both their jackets and clamped his hand around her mother's arm.
She clearly heard his icy warning. "I did not say anything while you were insulting my wife in her own home. But here's fair warning. It will not happen again. You will afford her the respect she deserves. She planned this meal to try and get the family together. She made the effort even though I disagreed. She wanted the family to start healing. I will not allow anyone, not even you to hurt her, is that clear?"
"Let go--"
"Is that clear?"
"Yes!" Iona hissed. "I don't know what you see in her anyway."
"She's beautiful, caring and the strongest woman I know. She managed to be all of that, in spite of who her parents are. I liftmy hat to her." He let go of her and waited until she had flounced out before locking the doors.
By the time he came back into the dining room, she had taken her seat, a strange and dazed expression on her face.
"I'm afraid we must be leaving too." Matthew pushed back his chair and rose.
"Oh, what about dessert?" Ingrid exclaimed.
"I'm full." His eyes met hers. "I need a word."
"I'm fine." She assured her husband as he looked at her.
She found him pacing in the gold and white salon to the left of the dining room.
She followed him silently, the echoes of the argument still ringing in her ears. The laughter and clinking glasses from the dining room were now a distant memory, replaced by an uneasy quiet. Ingrid paused by the doorway, uncertain, the weight of the evening pressing down on her shoulders. After a moment, she gathered her composure and stepped inside, determined toface whatever conversation awaited her, no matter how raw her emotions felt.
"One thing we can say about this family, we do not lack drama."
Her words did nothing to dispel the tension. Biting off a sigh, she stood and waited for him to say something.
"You had no right."
Lifting her shoulders, she gave him a pleading look. "I know. I mistakenly thought that if they were both confronted with the truth of who you were, they would come to accept you."
"And how did that work out?" The sarcastic bitterness in his tone tore at her heart.
"Not well." She spread her hands entreatingly. "I had to try."
"Why?" he demanded, stopping his pacing. "Who gave you that responsibility? I'm living my life and you're living yours. Who handed you the keys to make this family whole? All you ended up doing was make things worse and embarrassed me and Andre." He passed a hand around the back of his neck. "Look, I get it. You're happy and you want to spread the joy, but it doesn'twork that way. The next time you plan something like this, leave us out of it."
"Matt--"
"No, Ingrid. I'm pissed right now and not in the mood for a peace offering. On that note, I'm going to need a few days space. Don't call me, I'll call you when I'm done being royally pissed." With that, he marched from the room and left her standing there.
It took her a few minutes to compose herself enough to go back to the dining room. And by that time, her brother and Andre had left. She was surprised to see her dad still lingering around the table.
"Can never resist crème brûlée." He eyed her when she came to sit next to him. "Your husband is seeing your brother and his gentleman out. Is that the appropriate term? I have no idea about these things."
She had enough left in her to laugh. "That will do." Lifting a hand, she touched his face gently. "Thanks for sticking up for me as usual."
