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She took a step forward and again felt the softness underfoot. Glancing down, she saw rose petals. Rose petals that formed a red carpet, not towards the bed, but towards a little table. And on the table was a small, beautifully wrapped box.
Heart beating, she looked at that box and then at Santo.
‘Open it.’ He hadn’t moved from the doorway, the expression in his eyes cautious, as if he weren’t sure of his welcome.
‘You’ve—’ She looked around her, noticing a million thoughtful little touches, like the little seat that had been placed by the doors to the water. The place she’d always sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, watching the sea. Instead of an upturned box, there was a rocking chair. ‘You did this?’
‘I know how unhappy you are and I know that when you’re unhappy you need somewhere to go and be by yourself. I’d rather you didn’t feel the need to escape from me but if you do then I want you to be comfortable.’
Her eyes filled. ‘Our marriage isn’t working.’
‘I know that, and I suppose it isn’t surprising in the circumstances.’ His voice was uncertain. ‘I have so many things to apologise for I don’t know where to start.’
It wasn’t the response she’d expected. ‘You could start by telling me why the place is covered in rose petals.’
He ran his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Remembering the night of our wedding still shames me. As long as I live I will never be able to delete the image of you on your knees sweeping up rose petals I’d so thoughtlessly had put down. I hurt your feelings badly.’
‘I just thought it was mocking our relationship. It wasn’t romantic. It was never romantic.’ The tears sat in her throat and didn’t move. ‘Those rose petals—’
‘—were a manipulation on my part, I admit that. But I was manipulating the minds of those around us, not mocking you. That interpretation didn’t occur to me until I walked in and found you on your knees clearing them up. You once accused me of being an insensitive bastard and I am thoroughly guilty of that charge. But it was insensitivity rooted in thoughtlessness, not in a conscious desire to hurt you. I put these down myself, by hand. That’s why they’re not even in a straight line. I’ve never done it before.’
‘Why did you do it now?’ He still didn’t get it, she thought numbly. Rose petals were a romantic gesture.
‘I was trying to make you happy. I wanted you to smile,’ he said thickly, every plane of his body rigid with tension. ‘You smile with Luca all the time and I love it when you laugh. You never do that with me. You’re always jumpy and on edge and that is probably my fault.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of frustration and despair. ‘But I do want you to be happy. What do I have to do?’
Fia felt tears scald her eyes and this time they refused to retreat. She swallowed, but they kept coming, brimming in her eyes and then spilling over onto her cheeks.
Santo swore under his breath and strode forward, folding her in his arms so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. ‘Cristo, I have never, ever seen you cry. If the petals are going to upset you that much I’ll clear them up again. Please, please don’t cry. I’m trying really hard to please you but if I’m still getting it wrong then just tell me and I’ll fix it.’
The ache in Fia’s chest increased. ‘I appreciate it, honestly, but you don’t have to try this hard. It’s horribly, horribly humiliating when I know that we’re heading for divorce.’
He paled. ‘A divorce? No! I will not agree to a divorce, but I’ll agree to anything else you want. I know you don’t love me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy.’
‘It isn’t me who wants a divorce, it’s you! And I do love you, that’s the problem.’ The words broke from her like waves onto a rock, eroding the barriers she’d built between them. ‘In a way I’ve always loved you. Part of me fell in love with you when I watched you teach your sister to swim. You were so patient with her. I had fantasies that Roberto would do that for me but all he ever did was hold me under the water. I loved you when you let me use the boathouse for a bolt-hole and didn’t tell anyone. I loved you that night when you touched my shoulder because you knew I was upset and I still loved you when we made love.’ The sobs made her almost incoherent. ‘And I loved you when I married you. I have always loved you.’
For a moment there was no sound but his uneven breathing and the soft lap of the water against the wood of the boathouse.
‘You love me? But…I forced you to marry me.’ His voice was hoarse. Stunned and decidedly uncertain. ‘I bullied you.’
‘And that was when I loved you most of all,’ she hiccuped. ‘My mother gave birth to me but apparently that wasn’t enough of a bond to stop her from leaving me. You didn’t even know Luca but you knew he was your son and that w
as enough for you. You were willing to do anything for him simply because he was family. You have no idea how much I wish my parents had shown me even a fraction of that commitment. For your child’s sake you were even prepared to marry a woman you didn’t love, not just any woman but a Baracchi. And you were prepared to do anything to make it work.’
‘Forget that—’ his hands gripped her arms ‘—is it true that you love me? You’re not just saying that for Luca’s sake?’
‘I wish I were, because then this would be easy instead of really, really hard.’
‘Why is it hard?’
‘Because it’s so hard to love someone who doesn’t love you back.’
He cursed softly and cupped her face in his hands. ‘You think I don’t love you? What do you think the past few weeks have been about? I’ve been falling over myself to please you.’
‘I know. You were working really hard at it and that was actually quite crushing.’
‘Cristo, you are making no sense at all.’ He made an impatient sound and gave her a little shake. ‘How is it crushing that I worked hard to please you?’
‘Because it didn’t come naturally. You were doing it for Luca.’
