‘But … but, Mama always went on about how horrible her family was to you both, how they’d shunned her when she broke off her engagement to run off with you.’ And she’d resented them all because of that. Hated them and their religion and their culture because they’d made her mama so sad.
‘She didn’t mean Ameera. And she was hurt, but she always missed her family and her heritage. A part of her wanted to share more of it with you, but then she died and I thought it was what she would have wanted—for me to send you to them so they could give you what she hadn’t been able to. And they were so thrilled to have you. Were so sorry for how they’d treated our Amra.’
Prita gaped at him. ‘But, they didn’t want me.’
‘Of course they did. Ameera begged me to send you.’
‘What? But … but I was an outsider. I wasn’t one of them. And I didn’t want to be one of them. They’d made Mama so sad.’
‘Oh, aingeal, I’m so sorry.’ He reached for her, pulling her in, stroking her hair as he held her against his chest. ‘I had no idea you’d read things like that.’
‘Why do you think I behaved so badly the moment I got there?’ she asked, the words muffled against his chest.
‘Puberty. The fact you’d lost your mama. And the fact you took after her and me both with that wild side and tendency to act on instinct rather than think things through. Although, I rather thought your aunt might have had some influence on you when you decided to be a doctor.’
She pulled away, stunned at how they’d both read things so wrong. ‘I did that to show them they were wrong about me. I overheard Taaii Jasmina saying that I would never amount to anything with my wild ways, just like my mother.’
‘Jasmina was always jealous of your mother. And I can’t believe you went into medicine for that reason. I thought you wanted it for yourself.’
‘Not at first, but then, when I started, I realised I did. I wanted it so bad, it didn’t matter why I was there.’
He stroked her hair off her face. ‘I’m glad. I’d hate to think of you doing something out of spite. That’s not what your mother and I ever wanted for you. We wanted you to have what I never had, what she had left behind—a family and a place you felt you belonged. I’m so sorry you thought otherwise.’
‘But I did have what you and Mum had. I travelled. I had adventures. I did what I loved and was free.’
He frowned at her. ‘You think that’s what your mother and I were after? Adventure and freedom?’
‘Yes. That’s what our life was when she was alive.’
He shook his head, shock and sadness reflected in every part of his being. ‘No, aingeal. That’s not what we wanted. Not what we had. It was family. Belonging. That’s all we ever wanted. All we ever strived for—for you, for us.’ He looked around him, his gaze roving around the kitchen, where everything spoke of home and family. ‘I thought that’s why you came here.’
She stared at him. Oh god. Oh god. She’d been such an idiot! She’d spent all these years fighting their wishes and needs, fighting against being tied down, striving for a sense of freedom that was as false as her mistaken belief about the relationship with her Taaii Ameera, who had only ever wanted what her mother wanted for her.
Nat was right. She didn’t want to be free. She wanted love. She wanted family. She wanted to belong. And she wanted all of that with Flynn. Because she loved him. She’d always loved him.
The realisation hit her like a wave, swelling over her and then onto her, pushing her down then tossing her up, and up and around and around then she was free and falling. It should have been terrifying and yet, it was exhilarating. Because she wasn’t flying high, flying away, she was falling towards something.
Flynn and a life here, at CoalCliff, with him and Carter and Aaron and the whole mad Findlay-Stratton-CoalCliff mob.
God, think of what Carter and Aaron would get up to as brothers. She laughed, dizzy with euphoria that the thought of them as brothers brought.
‘Prita. What is it?’ Diarmuid came towards her. ‘You don’t look right. Do you need to sit down?’
Sit down? Why would she want to do that when she felt like dancing? Flying? For the first time she realised why there was always dancing at the end of the Bollywood movies her aunty so loved. She’d always thought it stupid, but now, she realised, it was just as it should be. What else would you want to do when you were filled with this much happiness? She gripped her father’s outstretched arms and laughed. ‘I’m fine, Papa. I’m more than fine.’
‘What’s going on?’ He eyed her askance, pulling her towards the kitchen chairs. ‘This has been too much for you, hasn’t it? The threats. Losing your house. Now worrying about what this man claiming to be Carter’s dad is going to do. But I promise you, I won’t let him take that boy from us.’
‘I know.’ And she did. It was worrying—of course it was worrying—but she’d fought too long and too hard to get them to where they were now and no mysterious father popping up, no arsonist who seemed to be coming after her for some unknown reason, no bullying misogynists from the local town, were going to stop her from getting what she wanted—a happy life with her son, with the man she loved and the family he brought with him, and the chance to build a GP practice that fulfilled her need to help others, especially women, lead happy, healthy lives.
Diarmuid frowned a little at her. ‘You do? You’re not having a little panic?’
She snorted. ‘No. This isn’t panic. It’s certainty.’
He stopped pulling her towards the
