With a heavy sigh, Silvio drew his hand back and rubbed it on his thigh. She heard him swallow.
“Will you let me tell your brothers and sisters about you? And meet them when you’re ready?”
“Why on earth would they want to meet me?” she asked on a choke of emotion. “I’m the product of your cheating on their mother.” She had to hide then, unable to bear this much emotion. She plucked a couple of tissues from the nearby box and pressed them to her clenched eyes, trying to keep the hot tears from leaking out.
“Bambina.” She heard him rise. He drew her from the chair and wrapped his arms around her the way she’d always wanted Otto to do. He patted her hair and pressed his own wet cheek to hers.
“She should have told me,” she said, breaking down and sobbing into his lapel.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Perhaps she thought she would. Perhaps she left those documents in Praiano for you to find. I know she never would have left you so soon if she’d had a choice, stellina. You were the light of her life.”
She clung to him and cried out her grief and hurt and sorrow and loss.
Silvio was patient, so patient, patting her back and hair. His expression was ravaged with anguish as they drew apart.
“Let me wash my face,” she said shakily, needing to pull herself together.
She stepped into the powder room and splashed water across her salty cheeks. While she was patting them dry, she heard him blow his nose with a loud honk, which somehow made her smile.
It made it possible to come back into the room feeling a little more in control.
Silvio was seated again, sipping his coffee, eyes red.
“You can tell your children about me if you want to. I’ll give you my number.” She unlocked her phone and handed it to him as she sat down again, not expecting to hear from any of them, ever, but it was nice of him to suggest it.
His phone pinged in his pocket. He smiled as he handed hers back. “Grazie.”
“Prego.” She fell back into the Italian she hadn’t used since leaving Rocco.
His gaze warmed with appreciation, then grew somber. “Will you speak to him? Please?”
“No.” She looked to her coffee, but suspected she’d only spill it if she tried to pick it up.
“I have no right to ask you for favors, Mira, but this was another mistake that was mine. I know you think he was acting for me, but that’s not true. He was seeing youin spiteof our friendship. At the expense of it. He has already told me he will never forgive me for the hurt all of this has caused you.”
“I think you’re misunderstanding the whole thing.” Her throat strained under the words. “He only ever spoke to me because of you. I went to Rome to see him because I was angry with Otto. Our engagement was never real. There’s nothing more between us.”
“Then why are you punishing him so harshly?” he challenged. “Why is he eating his heart out? I’ve never seen him this way. Not even when I first met him and he told me about losing his aunt.”
She flinched. She knew what a deep wound that was for Rocco, but, “I don’t mean half that much to him.”
“You mean everything to him,” he insisted.
Thankfully, the muted sound of her doorbell sounded again.
“Those are the guests I was expecting.” She stood, glad he had come, but also glad to have the excuse to cut this short so she could catch her breath.
He nodded with resignation and stood to offer his hand. “I’ll be at our home on Capri for the next while. Claudina is in Australia, staying with her sister, but I know she’ll want to meet you.”
“Why?” Her laughter was a husk of pure disbelief.
“She was fond of Trude. She would never blame a child for their parents’ actions.”
“This is…” Too much. She was about to start crying again.
“I’ll go.” He patted her arm, then picked up his hat. “But please think about seeing Rocco. Please.”
She showed him to the front door, where Axel and Joy were waiting in the foyer. Mira briefly introduced them, only using their names. The men politely shook hands before Silvio gave her one more nod, set his hat on his head and left.
