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‘You really love my father?’ Rico’s voice was raw.
‘I’ve always loved your father, Rico,’ Antonia replied softly, ‘and I always will. I’m just sorry it caused so much pain for so many people. I don’t expect your acceptance or forgiveness, Rico. I want it, of course, but I understand if it’s too much to ask. What I do ask though, is that your father and I can have regular contact. We want to be a part of Lily’s life, Rico—hopefully now for all the right reasons.’
Rico gave a small nod, his expression still wary, but his Adam’s apple bobbed a couple of times before he spoke, and when it came his voice was laced with emotion.
‘And you shall be.’ For the first time he looked at Antonia without malice. For the first time his voice was soft when he addressed her. ‘I will see you out.’
* * *
How long she lay there she wasn’t sure, but darkness had replaced the late-evening sun, the shadows matching her heavy gloom. Lily’s heavy sobs flicked into her consciousness and she held the pillow over her head, trying to block out the cries; the pain in her stomach was easing now, and Catherine missed it.
Missed the pain that matched the agony of an ending to what had never really begun, to tentative dreams that had never really stretched their wings.
She held her breath in her lungs as she heard Rico cross the landing, heard the nursery door close. Lily’s cries gave way to silence and she waited, waited for him to come to her—if not to make things better, then to make things a little more bearable. But as the lonely moon drifted past her window Catherine knew she had lost so much more than just her baby tonight,
In the scheme of things she knew her loss barely registered a blip, that maybe Dr Sellers was right—yes, she was young; yes, there would be other babies. But she wanted that one, wanted the child she had lost this day, a baby she could almost see, almost feel. This was the baby she ached for, this was the baby she mourned, and if Rico wouldn’t come to her now, in the depths of her grief, couldn’t mourn the child they had just lost with her, then what was the point?
No point at all.
There were no ties that bound them now. No baby to unite them, no custody battle to pursue, just a mere legality that would be taken care of easily.
A marriage in name only that had been over before it had started.
She dressed in a moment, packing quickly. She hadn’t been in Rico’s world long enough to accumulate much, except perhaps the broken heart that would surely weigh her down for the rest of her days.
She wandered the lonely house, bracing herself at each door to witness his beauty—in the lounge, perhaps, nursing a whisky, or in the study, working long into the night. Finally she found him, asleep in the rocking chair, hiding from her as she had from him, Lily dozing in his arms.
Lily Mancini.
A smile ghosted across her face at the sight that greeted her.
How she couldn’t have seen it she truly didn’t comprehend. Lily could be Rico’s child—the same long dark lashes swept over slanting cheekbones, the same full, slightly superior mouth, that even in sleep never really relaxed.
And she loved her.
Loved her enough to do the right thing by her.
To give her the life Janey would have wanted for her.
Slowly she ran her fingers over the soft down of the sleeping babe’s hair, gazing now not at the child who slept but at the man who held her, meeting his stare as his eyes flicked open.
‘I’m going, Rico.’
He stared back at her, taking a minute to focus, his bewildered expression deepening as he took in her clothes, the bag at the door and the utter defeat in her voice.
‘Catherine—’ He went to stand, but Lily let out a moan of protest and he moved quickly to gently hush her. He lowered her into the cot, soothing the babe with words as his eyes implored Catherine to hold on, to wait so they could talk. ‘You can’t just go.’ Lily was starting to fret now, perhaps sensing the loaded atmosphere, but Rico was facing Catherine, demanding that she listen. ‘You should be in bed. You’re not well…’ He gestured to the crying infant in a final stab at reaching her. ‘Lily needs you.’
‘No, Rico.’ Catherine’s voice was a hoarse whisper. ‘I thought she needed me, I thought I was the right person to bring her up—convinced myself that was what Janey would have wanted. But Janey hated me. Why do I flatter myself that she’d want me raising her child?’
‘Because you know this is the right thing to do!’
‘Janey despised me, Rico.’ Catherine’s words were without pity, without bitterness. ‘Janey wanted money and wealth, and she’d have wanted the same for her daughter. I truly thought I was doing the right thing, truly believed that I could do a better job than Antonia.’ She shook her head, bit hard on the tears that were now threatening, refusing to break down at this late stage, determined to escape with her last shred of dignity. ‘Antonia loves her; she proved that today. Lily’s going to grow up surrounded by people who adore her.’
‘She needs you,’ Rico insisted, following her out to the hall. ‘I need you.’
His words stilled her, but only for a moment. She squeezed her eyes closed as his words ricocheted through her, hating him for making this harder than it needed to be.
‘You don’t, though, Rico.’ She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, couldn’t bring herself to turn around and witness what she was losing. ‘You’ve won. As long as you allow Antonia and your father to see Lily, you can have her.’
