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She pressed one palm against his cheek as they rested their foreheads against one another’s. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said softly.
‘So am I.’ And truly he was.
Ella started to squirm and Antonio stepped away, jiggling her in his arms, half amazed at how normal it had become to soothe his daughter. Maisie watched them both for a moment, a smile on her face, and then went to make dinner. Yes, this was normal. He had to remind himself that, make himself believe it. It was normal...and it was wonderful.
Dinner was relaxed but also a little bit chaotic, with them taking it in turns to hold and bounce Ella, who was restless. Antonio gave her a bath and then Maisie put her to bed, coming downstairs afterwards, a shy and expectant look on her face.
This part, Antonio knew, was simple, and yet just as wonderful as all that had gone before. Silently he took her by the hand and led her upstairs. Silently he closed her bedroom door and then drew her into his arms, kissing her softly and yet with increasing urgency, because he couldn’t hold her in his arms and not want her.
She returned his kisses with just as much urgency and eagerness, her body pressed against his, her arms wrapped around him. Somehow they fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, and then they were shedding clothes as fast as they could, the urgency and need overwhelming them both.
Yet amidst the tidal wave of desire Antonio sought to anchor himself in the moment, in Maisie. Braced above her on his forearms, he gazed down at her lovely face, her golden-red curls spread across the white pillowcase in a fiery cloud.
I love you. The words rose in his throat and sat heavily in his mouth. Words so many people found easy to say, and yet he could not make himself say them. He wasn’t sure he felt them and, if he did, he didn’t want to. Love meant risk and fear and pain. Love meant anger and arguing and disappointment. He couldn’t shake that deep-seated certainty, the leaden weight of it that had sat in his gut for far too many years. I love you.
He kissed her instead, trying to imbue some of what he felt—the good part, at least—in his kiss, in the gentle ferocity of it. And he thought, perhaps wrongly, that Maisie understood, for she kissed him back as she wrapped her legs around him and drew him into her body, accepting all of him, just as he was.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SPRING BLOSSOMED INTO SUMMER, the weeks sliding lazily by, as Maisie revelled in and clung to a happiness which felt both overwhelming and fragile. Antonio came over most days, either after work or sometimes taking the afternoon off. They spent simple hours with Ella, taking a walk or going on an excursion somewhere a bit further away, both of them finding happiness in simply being together.
They also went into Milan several times, for various engagements, and, while Maisie found she enjoyed those experiences of elegance and luxury with Antonio by her side, she was always glad to be back in her home. Their home.
Besides the mother-and-baby group she’d joined, she’d managed to pick up a few violin pupils through connections in the village and was now tutoring several times a week, while Ella napped.
The nights Antonio spent with Maisie were just as, if not more so, wonderful as the days. As they learned each other’s bodies, the wonder of their first union deepened into something more profound and intimate, each act feeling to Maisie as if she was bound more and more closely to Antonio...or at least he was bound to her.
For the truth was, despite the time she’d spent with Antonio, in his company and in his bed, she still didn’t trust how he felt, and
she suspected he didn’t either. She’d given herself several stern talking-tos about it, telling herself to be patient, to stay calm, and, while most of the time she managed this, on the days when he didn’t visit, on the nights when she was alone, the old fears crept in.
Memories of her parents’ sudden death, the way her life had felt like a chessboard swept clean, the carefully ordered pawns toppled by one careless moment, hounded and haunted her. She’d survived the tumult and grief, but only just. She didn’t think she could survive it again. And she knew it would be worse if Antonio walked away from her. He wouldn’t be taken in a senseless tragedy. He would choose it, and she would let him, and that felt awful. She’d found love, but she still didn’t know how to be strong. How to fight for it.
In the middle of July, when Ella was five months old and the summer heat was scorching, Maisie told Max about her and Antonio. She’d kept it from him for a while because she hadn’t wanted him to worry, especially not when he was so clearly enjoying life without the concerns of a sister and niece.
‘You’re with Rossi?’ he asked on a video call, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline as Maisie sat in front of the computer screen, Ella in her lap.
‘Yes, and please don’t call him “Rossi”, Max, as if he’s some stranger.’
‘But do you really know him, Maisie? He was a stranger—’
‘And he isn’t now.’ Ella blew a raspberry at the screen and Maisie let out a somewhat shaky laugh. As confident as she wanted to feel about all this, Max’s surprise was reminding her of how uncertain everything still felt. ‘We’ve come to know each other over these last few months, Max,’ she continued. ‘Antonio is a good man and...and the truth is, I love him.’ As soon as she’d said the words, she wished she could snatch them back. She hadn’t said them before to anyone, and Antonio certainly hadn’t said them to her. Sometimes Maisie felt as if he was making a point of not saying them.
‘Oh, Maisie.’ Max couldn’t hide his concern, and that made Maisie feel worse.
‘What? Is it wrong to love someone?’
‘Not wrong, but maybe dangerous. Not that I’m one to talk. I’ve never been in love.’ He gave a mock shudder, and Maisie tried to smile. ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve had enough sadness in your life, Maise. We both have.’
‘I know. I don’t want any more sadness, trust me.’
‘Do you really think Ros—Antonio can make you happy? Can settle down?’
Maisie tried for a laugh. ‘Those are two different questions.’
‘But they’re definitely related.’
‘True.’ She sighed and set a squirming Ella on a fleecy blanket on the floor. Her daughter was doing her best to sit up by herself, giving Maisie beaming, drooling grins all the while. Maisie’s heart clenched with love for her daughter.
