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‘She had to.’ Emily’s voice was small. ‘Maybe I should have stood up to Howard, instead of running around desperately trying to be the perfect wife. I wanted to show him that the baby didn’t have to be a bad change in our lives. I thought he loved me.’
Luca pulled her closer to him, could hear the pain and devastation in her voice.
‘It turned out he was having an affair. It started whilst I was pregnant—he justified it by saying I had become unattractive, overweight and selfish. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. That it had happened to me, that I had believed in him. How could I not have seen the signs? When I watched my mother go through marriage after marriage, I thought I could spot a lie at one hundred paces. But I truly had no idea. How dumb am I?’
‘You aren’t dumb. Sometimes we believe what we want to believe.’
‘Then that makes me a double fool. I grew up watching my mother do that time and again. Believing this man was the one, believing she was loved. And I fell into the same trap. Blown away by the idea that Howard loved the real me. Was interested in me, my photography, my personality—nothing to do with my parents. I thought he loved me for me.’
Luca searched for words of comfort. ‘Perhaps he did. My dad loved my mum. Just not enough.’
Emily shook her head. ‘Howard didn’t love me; I think Howard only loves himself. He wanted the perfect adoring wife. The only reason I believed he loved me was because at least he genuinely didn’t care about my parents’ fame or fortune. I’d already shown him I was more than ready to adore him, look up to him, listen to him. Then I fell pregnant and he knew he wouldn’t be the centre of my world any more. So he cheated on me.’
‘Was he sorry?’
‘Nope. When I found out I did confront him—he seemed to think his actions were justified as I was no longer attractive. We had a stand-up row. He left and I lost the baby two weeks later.’ Now guilt shadowed her eyes again. ‘Maybe the row made the difference. I don’t know, but I didn’t see him again. When I lost the baby it was as if the world collapsed on me. I lost it completely. The past months have been like some sort of nightmare. Howard wanted out, a painless divorce, and I agreed to everything. Then I pretty much went to bed, pulled the duvet over my head and blocked out the world. Turns out you can’t do that. Reality creeps in, there are bills to pay and I realised I had to get myself up and going again. The problem is I can’t always keep the grief at bay, or the questions. Then I panic. I want to turn the clock back, make different decisions, figure out what I did wrong and fix it.’
‘Emily, you did nothing wrong. I know that, I swear it to you. You cannot torture yourself, trying to turn time back, or reliving the past.’ He wanted Emily to know he understood. ‘When my dad left I spent years trying to figure out why. What I did wrong. All I wanted was a chance to make it right, to turn back time and somehow make him stay. Then I thought if I could figure it out maybe he’d at least visit, call, send a postcard.’
‘You did nothing wrong. He did.’
‘But it didn’t feel like that. Because I know he did love me. I remember the love, sitting on his shoulders, being swung up in the air, bedtime stories, walking along holding his hand. So how could he stop loving me so easily? I must have done something.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong either.’ Turning away from the view, he focused on her, held her arms gently as she faced him, wanting that connection. ‘I know you didn’t. You can’t second-guess yourself, can’t torture yourself with the what-ifs and might-have-beens. Because you can’t turn back time, you can’t change what happened. But you can remember your baby, honour and cherish his memory. And the joy you felt in him.’ Just as perhaps he should cherish his own memories with his dad, the knowledge that for five years he had been loved.
‘I did feel joy.’ Her eyes were wide now. ‘When I knew I was pregnant I felt panic but mostly I felt awe, a deep awe that there was the beginning of a tiny living being growing inside me. I loved tracing his progress, the first small swell of my tummy, the idea that what I ate and drank was helping my baby to develop. Then there was the first time he kicked, the first time I played music to him. I loved him very much. I will always cherish his memory. And however sad I am I need to remember he also gave me joy.’ She turned to Luca. ‘And I believe your father loved you—you know that, you have all those memories that prove it. You did nothing wrong either, Luca—he did, and I think he regretted it all the days of his life. Yes, he lavished love on Ava, because he didn’t want to make the same mistake again. I think he left you and Jodi shares in Dolci in a clumsy way to try to show love and make amends.’
Luca turned and pulled her into a close embrace, touched beyond all reason that in her own pain she could find words to give him comfort. She pulled away gently and said, ‘Look.’
He turned his head and watched as the sun started to dip, streaked the sky i
n a glorious medley of orange and red against the panoramic background of a cloud-streaked sky. The colours seemed to light up the world, dapple and reflect the peaks and valleys, surround them in a magnificent aura of hues and tints.
He moved to pass her the camera but she shook her head. ‘I just want to experience this moment. With you.’
So they sat hand in hand and watched the sun set before returning down the slopes, through the plantations and back to the resort and bed, where they held each other in their arms and created a different type of magic.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EMILY OPENED HER eyes aware that something wasn’t quite right, something was missing. Luca. Groggily she reached out, realised he wasn’t there and, after a night spent curled up in his arms or with her head on his chest or spooned up against him with his arm protectively around her, already her body protested at the lack of his skin against hers.
‘Hey, sleepyhead.’ His deep voice came from the end of the bed and she saw that he was up and dressed in a lightweight suit.
‘Good morning.’ She stretched. ‘It’s the meeting with the royal representative,’ she remembered.
‘That’s the one.’
She frowned as she blinked away the last vestiges of sleep. ‘You look nervous.’ The idea was incongruous—it was hard to imagine nerves daring to impinge anxiety on Luca.
‘I’ve never met a royal rep. But it’s not that—I wanted to make sure you’re OK before I leave. Tell you thank you for sharing with me yesterday and I hope you don’t regret it.’
Did she? How could she, when he’d shown such understanding, known when to hold her and when to speak, shared his own trauma and loss and feelings with her? Who would have thought it? ‘No regrets,’ she said. ‘So go. You don’t want to be late. And good luck—I know this is important to you and I’m sure you’ll blow him away.’
Now she’d swear Luca looked...discomfited, uncomfortable, hesitant. Emily propped herself up, her forehead creased in a small frown. ‘Is something wrong? You are nervous, aren’t you?’
Quickly she swung her legs out of bed, walked towards him, even now revelled in the fact she wore one of his T-shirts, the idea both sexy and intimate. ‘Hey. You don’t need to worry. I know this endorsement is important to you but I bet you’ll nail it.’ She reached him and placed her hand on his arm, looked up at him, wanted her words to matter, touched at this unexpected vulnerability. ‘Truly. Your chocolate is fabulous and endorsing it will give the royal family and Jalpura some great publicity. All you need to do is tell the truth.’
