Bellamy felt sick to his stomach just thinking about the possible answers.
“I knew painting made her happy,” Oscar said quietly. “And I wanted her to be happy. More than anything. But the drugs destroyed her.”
Bellamy didn’t know what to say. He’d carried around resentment for years toward Oscar. Maybe if he’d known the truth about Mam, his relationship with Oscar would have been different. “Whyever didn’t you tell me?”
Oscar sighed. “I wanted you to have happy memories of your mam and of those times you had painting together with her.”
“But all of these years I’ve believed you didn’t support her painting ... or mine.”
“I know you’ve been selling your paintings at a local gallery, and I know people are buying them and rightly so.”
Bellamy hadn’t realized Oscar knew all that, although he supposed it wasn’t too hard to figure out.
“I haven’t revealed my identity yet.” But maybe it was finally time to do so. Even if he lost customers who didn’t want to buy from him because he was Irish, at least he wouldn’t be hiding a huge part of himself any longer.
“I’m sorry.” Oscar’s whisper was choked. “Your painting reminded me too much of her and all the pain of losing her.”
Bellamy’s throat grew tight again. He could only imagine how difficult it had been for Oscar to see the paintings and be reminded of his wife and all he’d lost.
Oscar cleared his throat and wiped his eyes again. “I’ve been trying to figure out why you let Zaira leave the city and didn’t fight to get her back. Tonight I realized one important thing.”
Of course, Bellamy had been contemplating ways to convince Zaira to marry him. But Oscar was right. Bellamy had let her leave and hadn’t fought for her.
“I realized,” Oscar continued, “that you’re afraid of letting yourself love a woman because you don’t want to have a failed marriage like mine or Granda’s.”
“Oh aye. Rightly so.”
Oscar pivoted and faced Bellamy squarely, looking him in the eyes. “I’ve always said that love doesn’t follow the usual mathematical equations.”
Aye, he’d heard Oscar say that before many a time. Bellamy couldn’t deny that Oscar was intuitive when it came to relationships. He could see things others couldn’t and was wiser than most in the ways of love.
“You and Zaira are not the sum of your parents. Youstart at one plus one equals two, and you keep the rest of the family out of the equation.”
“But we’re influenced by our families—”
“Influenced, yes, but you are notdestinedto have a relationship like me and your mam. And Zaira isn’t destined to have a relationship like her da and mam. Instead, the two of you can choose to have the exact kind of relationship you want and make it as different as you want.”
“I understand that, but the McKenna matchmakers have always been unlucky in love.”
Oscar snorted. “That’s what people speculate, but it’s not true. My granda might not have had a happy second marriage, but his first marriage was one of the happiest ever known.”
“Really?” How had Bellamy not heard that?
“It was a short marriage, to be sure. It lasted only two years, and she died giving birth to a stillborn babe. But ’twas said there’d never been a couple who loved each other more than those two.”
Bellamy had only ever seen his granda as discontent, but maybe he’d been so of his own making, had always been comparing his second wife to his first.
“Ach, Bellamy. There’s no such thing as being unlucky in love. Love is what we make of it.”
Bellamy expelled a breath, feeling suddenly lighter than he had in a long time.
Oscar slipped a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his nose and then his eyes. “You want to know the secret of the best marriages I’ve ever witnessed?”
“What?” Maybe Oscar had told him the secret at some point, but it obviously bore repeating in the moment.
“If you both are growing in the qualities that God setsout in Scripture, in things like patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control, love, and forgiveness, then you’ll bring that maturity to solving your problems and weathering difficulties.”
Oscar’s advice was similar to what Zaira had mentioned about a perfect marriage being more about those inner qualities than anything else.
