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“They did.” For some insane reason, they actually wanted him as a backup parent. The question had caught him so off guard he couldn’t answer.
“It’s not going to be a problem, is it?” Louisa asked. “Being paired with me? I know it’s a big deal here, and if you’d rather stand up with someone else...”
“What? No.” He hadn’t stopped to think that his unenthusiastic answer might sound like an objection to her. “I think you’ll be a wonderful godmother. It’s me that I’m worried about.”
“If you’re afraid you’re going to drop her...”
“No, I’m not afraid of dropping her.”
“Then, what’s the matter?”
“It’s complicated,” he replied. Hoping she’d drop the subject, Nico walked toward the fountain.
Monte Calanetti’s famed nymph reclined across her rocks, the clamshell in her hand beckoning to all who wanted to toss a coin. Based on the silver and gold coins shimmering beneath the water, a lot of tourists had tried today. “Have you ever wished on the fountain?” he asked when he felt Louisa standing behind him. A silly question. Everyone in Monte Calanetti had tried at least once to land a coin in the clamshell.
“Sure,” she replied. “My coin missed the shell, though.”
“Mine always missed, too.”
“And I thought you were perfect.”
She was joking, but Nico grimaced all the same. He was most definitely not perfect.
So much for changing the subject. “Didn’t matter. My wish came true anyway,” he replied.
“What did you used to wish for?”
“That I wouldn’t be like my parents. In and out of love. Jumping from one drama to another. I would not live on an emotional roller coaster.”
Her hand came to rest between his shoulder blades, the warmth from the contact reaching through his linen shirt. “Can’t blame you there,” she said “Who would?”
No one, or so he’d thought, which was why he’d stood here as a little boy and tossed coin after coin. He could see himself, standing at the fountain’s edge, his jaw clenched with determination. “Unfortunately, it worked too well,” he said, with a sigh.
“You’re confusing me.”
Of course he was. Louisa felt things deeply. He saw the warmth in her eyes when she looked at Rosa, the immediate affection. His sister couldn’t have picked a better woman to help guide his niece through life. She would love Baby Rosa like her own. Unlike...
Fear gripped his chest. “Everyone sees me as some kind of leader,” he said. “A man they can count on.”
“Because you are. You certainly hold Monte Calanetti together. Not to mention the vineyard, the palazzo.”
“Those are things, businesses. Anyone can manage a business. People, on the other hand...” He took off his sunglasses, wanting her to see how serious he was regarding his question. “What if I let her down?”
“Who?”
“Baby Rosa. What if she can’t count on me? What if I can’t love her enough to be there emotionally when she needs me to?”
“You’re serious? That’s why you kept pulling away when we talked about the baby.” She sank to sit on the fountain wall. “Do you really believe you won’t be able to care about your own niece?”
“Care about, yes, but care enough?” He shook his head. “I’ve already proven I can’t.”
“When? Oh, your fiancée.”
“My fiancée.” Taking a space next to her, he let his shopping bag rest on the ground between his feet. Thankfully the noontime heat had chased many of the tourists to the shade, leaving them momentarily alone.
“Floriana was a wonderful girl. Smart, beautiful, kind. We shared all the same interests. We never ever argued.”
“She sounds perfect.”
“She was,” he said, staring at his hands. “We were perfect for each other.” The answer tasted sour on his tongue. In a way, singing Floriana’s praises to Louisa felt wrong.
“What happened?”
“Simple,” he said. “I broke her heart.”
* * *
There had to be more to the story. Something that Nico wasn’t telling her. The man she knew wouldn’t carelessly break a woman’s heart.
Although wasn’t that exactly the kind of man she’d thought he was when she’d met him?
Yes, she had, but she knew better now. Knew him better now. “Surely it’s not as simple as that,” she said.
“Ah, but it is,” he replied. “As perfect as Floriana was—as we were for each other—I couldn’t love her. Not truly and deeply, the way a person should be loved. That’s when I realized I’ll never be like my parents or like Angelo or Marianna. I don’t have it in me.”
