Page 54 of The Devil’s Lair

I’m recovering, slowly. Thanks to Tobias—and Jane. The last couple of sessions have been both painful yet empowering. I’m slowly opening up to her, telling her things I never thought I’d tell anyone, and she’s listened to it all with quiet contemplation interspersed with advice and coping mechanisms.

How is it that some men hate women so much that they take pleasure in terrorizing them? Then there’s men like Tobias, who has shown me nothing but compassion and understanding from the moment our lives collided.

I’ll never understand it. If sexual preference was a choice, there’d be far more lesbian relationships.

At nine o’clock, the team arrive to help Isla and me get ready. She’s buzzing with excitement, running from one person to the next to give them a hug or a high-five. Just watching her fills my heart with so much joy, I might burst. I hadn’t realized how small she made herself around Marcus, how quiet she tried so hard to be, how invisible. Now, she’s a kaleidoscope of color, vibrant and jubilant.

Yet she still hasn’t uttered a single word.

I had hoped that as her therapy progressed, and the safety of Oakleigh enveloped her, she’d recover the sweet voice I miss so much, but it hasn’t happened. I spoke to her therapist after her last session and she assured me that Isla will speak when she is ready, though I’m starting to fear she never will. A lasting legacy of Marcus’s cruelty.

Whereas I once held love in my heart for that man, now there’s only hate.

Pushing all thoughts of my dead husband from my mind, I throw myself into the fun of the day. At eleven thirty, the team clears out, and it’s just me and Isla.

I drop to a crouch and tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. “You look like an angel.”

She strokes my face, then kisses me. My chest cracks wide open, and even more love pours in.

“I hit the jackpot with you, pumpkin.” Tears rush to the surface of my eyes. I grab a tissue and catch the one or two that fall. After all this effort with my makeup, the last thing I need are tear tracks dripping down my face and ruining my foundation.

A light tapping sounds on the door. I pick my way across the room, unused to walking in heels, and open it to find Charles on the other side, beaming.

“Mr., I mean, Charles,” I murmur, remembering he asked me to call him by his first name. “What can I do for you?”

“I wonder if you might do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to church and walk you up the aisle.”

I press a hand to my chest. “Oh, my goodness. Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. I had the honor of escorting Grace when she married Christian, and I loved it. Please don’t feel obliged, though, if you’d rather go it alone.”

“Not at all. I would love it.”

I’ve never had a dad, yet this virtual stranger is behaving more like a father to me than my own flesh and blood ever have.

“Excellent.” He drops to his haunches, bringing him closer to Isla. “You, my darling girl, are a picture.”

She does a little twirl, and Charles and I chuckle.

“Right, are we ready?”

I glance down at Isla. “Are we, pumpkin?”

She nods, so I take her hand, and Charles offers me his elbow. A Rolls Royce with its engine idling waits outside Oakleigh’s front entrance. A uniformed driver opens the door, and I help Isla inside, buckle her in, then take a seat. Charles gets in, and we set off for Oakleigh’s chapel.

My mind is blown. This is overwhelming in the best possible way. It’s a fairy tale—one I’m terrified I’ll wake up from, only to find myself back in that house of horrors waiting for Marcus’s next barrage of anger to rain down on me. Either that or I’ll find I’ve jumped out of the frying pan and found myself surrounded by a blazing fire with every exit compromised.

No. Tobias is not Marcus. As difficult as it is, it’s about time I stopped comparing them. They are nothing alike.

The drive to the chapel takes less than five minutes. As we exit the car, a member of staff hands Isla a bucket full of petals. We wanted to give her something to do, so she’s going to scatter them as she walks in front of me.

The chapel is far larger than I expected, and haunting, soulful music strikes up as we enter. Only the first two rows are occupied, and I’m glad. I don’t think I could have coped with a huge society wedding like the ones I’ve seen in magazines.

“Go on, Isla.” I give her a gentle nudge.

She reaches into her bucket and throws some petals, then confidently strides forward. God, I’m so proud of her. She’s amazing. I’d give my left kidney for her adaptability.

I catch Vicky’s eye, and she smiles encouragingly. It’s only when I face forward and lock gazes with Tobias that my nerves vanish. He’s dressed in a dark blue morning suit and a light blue tie, as is his brother Nicholas, who stands beside him as best man.