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‘I think you are starting to feel like a parent,’ Chloe said gently.
He stopped pacing and stared down at her, thinking about what she had said. Maybe she was right.
Earlier, when he’d carried Emma into the examination room with ooze seeping from her ear, his heart had thudded painfully hard in his chest, and a terrible tightness had gripped his throat, making it hurt to speak. He’d waited in a state of agony, until the doctor had said that Emma would be all right, and explained what had happened.
Lorenzo sat down on the bed next to Chloe without speaking and looked at Emma, who was now sleeping in the cot.
‘I think that maybe you are starting to love her,’ Chloe added quietly, reaching out and taking his hand in both of hers.
A tremor passed through Lorenzo. And he squeezed Chloe’s hands with his.
Over the next few days Chloe spent all her time caring for Emma. The antibiotics seemed to do their job and the baby quickly bounced back from her ear infection, becoming her normal sunny self in next to no time.
Unfortunately Lorenzo also reverted back to his typical character—emotionally withdrawn and uncommunicative—leaving Chloe feeling confused and lost.
When they’d flown back from Venice, she’d been convinced that their marriage was at breaking point—that he was bringing her to England to divorce her and cut her and Emma out of his life. She was no longer worried about that, because Lorenzo finally seemed to have made a genuine connection with Emma.
The night they’d returned from the hospital and sat together holding hands, Chloe had also felt that they’d made real progress in their personal relationship. Lorenzo had begun to reveal the depth of his concern for Emma, and for the first time ever he had not rebuffed Chloe’s suggestion that he was starting to experience parental feelings—and possibly even the beginnings of love for the baby.
Chloe had fallen asleep that night with a newfound hope warming her heart. Of course it was wonderful for Lorenzo and Emma, but she also dared to believe it would bring them all closer together as a family. And if Lorenzo could feel the beginnings of love for Emma—maybe there was a chance that he could grow to love her too.
But she had been mistaken.
As the days went by Lorenzo never mentioned the conversation that had given Chloe such hope again, and his taciturn mood meant she didn’t dare to raise the subject. He did start spending extra time with Emma—but his attitude towards Chloe did not appear to change at all, apart from becoming even more reticent if that was possible.
She began to feel a shadow of despair creeping over her. It was as if as soon as Lorenzo’s emotional barricades had started to break down, he had deliberately set about building them up again.
Chloe spent her time wandering around the house and garden with Emma. After a while she started to feel cooped up and claustrophobic—it was a large property, but there was nowhere else for her to go. The winding country lane had no footpath beside it, and wasn’t suitable for walking along, especially with a pushchair.
She began to feel her life was on hold. Lorenzo wasn’t communicating with her, and she found herself seeking Mrs Guest’s comforting presence more and more.
‘Emma looks so much better now,’ the housekeeper said, looking across from the kitchen sink, where she was preparing vegetables.
‘Yes, she does,’ Chloe agreed, pausing for a moment to wipe a splodge of apple purée off the baby’s cheek. She had taken to giving Emma her meals in the kitchen—it made her feel less lonely.
‘A much better appetite,’ Mrs Guest added.
‘Yes, she’s nearly finished this,’ Chloe said. ‘Do you know if Lorenzo has any other cars here, besides the limo and the convertible?’ she added, suddenly changing the subject. ‘Something a bit more ordinary?’
Mrs Guest laughed.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I can ask my husband if you’d like. Are you thinking of going out on your own with Emma, and want to drive something you’re more used to?’
‘It was just an idea,’ Chloe replied, popping the last tiny spoonful of fruit into Emma’s mouth. ‘There’s no need for you to ask—I can do that myself.’
‘I’ll clean up here,’ Mrs Guest said, crossing the room to wipe over the high chair. ‘Why don’t you take Emma out into the garden? The forecast said rain later—so you might not have a chance if you wait.’
Chloe followed Mrs Guest’s suggestion, and went outside with Emma to continue their exploration of the garden. She was so grateful that it was a vibrant time of year in nature, with long daylight hours ensuring plenty of growth and changes in the garden every day. It gave her something to concentrate her attention on—and Chloe realised it was something she had missed living in the city.
The purple irises beside the pond had faded, but the water lilies had come out in a mass of impressive cream an
d white flowers. And the buds she’d seen on the roses climbing over the pergola had opened into full, wonderfully scented blooms.
Mr Guest had put up bird-nesting boxes in a couple of big trees near the pond, and Chloe loved to see the acrobatic blue tit parents coming and going with a flash of blue and yellow feathers. She sat down on a bench with Emma on her lap to watch them. Mr Guest had told her he expected the young birds to fledge any day—and Chloe thought it would be amazing to catch sight of the fledglings leaving the nest box.
A few minutes later a crunch on the gravel path told her that someone was approaching. It was probably Lorenzo, because the friendly gardener usually went about his work whistling cheerfully.
Her stomach turned over with nerves, and then she looked up straight into Lorenzo’s blue eyes.
