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MARCO returned to the villa. He could hardly see straight as he drove home. His vision blurred, his head throbbed. He felt as if he’d been slugged with one of the dressmaker’s mannequins.
Payton hadn’t known. Payton was totally in the dark.
He was such an ass. He was an arrogant fool. He wouldn’t blame Payton if she couldn’t forgive him.
He let himself into the house and flicked on the hall light. Pietra appeared and he nodded good night to her and the nanny quietly returned to her room.
Pietra would have told him if Payton returned. Marco’s hands went to his hips and he gazed up the staircase. She wasn’t up there. He knew she wasn’t there. He would be able to feel it if she’d come home. But she hadn’t come home and the house felt empty.
He tried to lie down but he couldn’t sleep. He got up a couple hours later and went to the window in his bedroom. It was almost dawn. The street was silent. There was no traffic. The sky was beginning to lighten and soon the sun would rise.
If anything happened to her the girls would be devastated. Payton was the center of their world. They were like little planets and she was the sun around which they evolved.
It crossed his mind that the girls weren’t the only ones that adored her. He did, too.
He thought of the future, realized that without the threat of cancer hanging over Payton’s head, they could accomplish anything they wanted. Travel anywhere. Be anything. The sky was the limit.
She had to come home. He’d wait until morning and then if she didn’t return, he’d go find her.
But in case she did come home, he wanted to be ready. He wanted desperately to apologize, to try again. Marco sat on the foot of the entry stairs with a champagne bottle and two crystal flutes. An hour passed. And then another. His eyes felt heavy. He nearly dozed off.
A key turned in the lock of the front door.
Payton walked into the house as if it were the most natural thing to do. She set down her suitcase, and then her purse. “Hello.”
“Where have you been?” he asked, sitting forward.
She gestured behind her. “Sitting in a lot of cafés. Drinking too much coffee.” She closed the front door. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you.”
She looked at the champagne bottle sitting in melting ice water and the two empty flutes. “For a moment there I thought you were celebrating my departure.”
“Never.” He ran an unsteady hand through his hair. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. “I’ve been really worried. I came close to calling the police. I was going to go looking for you if you didn’t arrive soon.”
Payton’s lips quivered. Blue-tinged shadows shaded her eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Marco.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” He held out a hand to her, entreating. “Just come and sit here with me.”
She looked at him for another long moment. She stared at his hand and then back up into his face. Her expression was infinitely sad. “I don’t know that I can do that, either.”
He nodded and dropped his arm, folding his hands between his knees. Marco stared at the faded golden carpet with the royal blue scrolls. The carpet had been here for over a hundred years. God knows the stories it could tell.
His eyes began to burn and blinking rapidly he tried to keep the carpet’s faded pattern in focus. He was so relieved to have her home. He was so glad to know she was safe.
Best of all, he was very grateful to know that she wasn’t sick and that she’d hopefully have many healthy years ahead of her. Years where she could hug the girls and chase them up stairs and wrestle them into bed.
Thank God she was okay.
Thank God she was home now, even if she didn’t choose to stay.
Tears filled his eyes and he reached up to wipe away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “How did you get under my skin?” he choked, voice hoarse with emotions he could scarcely control. “How did you make me feel so much? Want so much?”
“The same way you made me feel so much. And love so much.”
He hated crying, it was not a machismo thing. He’d never let anyone see him cry before. “I don’t even know where to start with the apologies. I am so sorry. I am so sorry for losing my temper, behaving like an idiot, saying cruel things, walking out on you,” he drew a breath. “For not listening to you, not trusting you—”
“I think I’m beginning to get the picture.” Payton moved toward the stairs and slowly sat down on the bottom step, just one down from him. “What you’re basically trying to say is that you’re sorry for being a proud man who felt betrayed.”
“But you didn’t betray me.”
Payton sighed and leaned against the stair railing. She gazed across the entry with the massive blue glass Venetian chandelier and the priceless oil paintings on the wall. One was of Pompeii with Mount Vesuvius erupting. The other was Naples two hundred years ago. “It’s a strange start to a honeymoon, isn’t it?”
He made a hoarse sound. “You want to call this a honeymoon?”
“I should think so. We’re married and I’m not going anywhere.”
Marco sat very still for a moment before he leaned forward. “Say that again.”
She turned a little. Her elbow almost collided with Marco’s shin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re staying?”
“Yes.” And then she smiled crookedly. “We had a wedding, didn’t we? I wore a dress this famous designer made, didn’t I? And I live here, don’t I?”
“Yes. Yes. And yes again.” He caught Payton’s face in his hands and covered her lips with his. “Mia moglie,” he whispered against her mouth. My wife.
“And don’t you forget it!” Her heart was overwhelmed by everything that had happened and yet she refused to dwell on the sadness. Life was full of ups and downs. It had its glorious moments and its heartbreak, but in the end those who dream, and persevere, are rewarded.
“Tell me you forgive me,” he said, stroking her cheek.
“I do.”
“Thank God you didn’t run away. Thank God you did come home.”
Her eyes burned and filled with hot tears she couldn’t let fall. “I thought about it. It was an attractive idea. I run off and you worry and suffer.”
Her lips curved in a faint smile. “But then I realized this is the only place I want to be, and even if you were a complete barbarian today, you still deserved a second chance.” She blinked and drew a huge breath. “So here I am.”
“Thank God.” His dark eyes shone. “Because I have some really good news for you.”
She turned all the way around and leaned on his lap. “You do?”
“I do.” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer so that she was cradled against his chest. “A lab report came from your hospital in San Francisco. Payton, are you ready for this?”
The tears were filling her eyes and she didn’t think she could hold them back this time. “No, what?”
“You don’t have cancer!”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Really?”
“It was all a terrible mistake. You’re perfectly, wonderfully healthy and I couldn’t be happier. This is extraordinary. We must celebrate.” He picked up the champagne bottle and the cork flew out with a loud pop.
The champag
ne bubbled and fizzed and Marco filled the two flutes. “To the best news I’ve ever heard. May you, my love, live a long, happy life.”
They clinked glasses and drank. The champagne felt deliciously warm going down her throat and Payton savored the bubbles still lingering on her tongue before sitting up to kiss Marco. “And it will be a long happy life,” she said, her heart beating fiercely, “if I spend it with you.”
***
