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Her stomach squeezed. It was the third time he’d asked her that; she still didn’t find it easy to answer. “Why else do you think I agreed to marry him?”
His expression was shuttered, but his jaw tightened, as though he were grinding his teeth together. Was it possible he actually cared? That he was jealous or something?
“It doesn’t matter now.”
Max nodded but he didn’t look convinced.
“It’s over between us. I haven’t spoken to him since he ended our engagement.”
“You were shocked.”
“By the fact he dumped me two weeks out from our wedding? A wedding that had somehow got bigger than Ben Hur with hundreds of guests in an exclusive vineyard and a world-famous videographer? The fact that he’d organised a photoshoot in a magazine that I had to ring around and cancel once it all ended? Yeah. I was shocked, Max.”
His hands pressed more firmly into the arches of her feet; the feeling was blissful but it was in contrast to the emotions this conversation was evoking.
“I hadn’t seen him for a week.” She didn’t know why she kept talking. They’d cracked open the door to memory lane and her feet were traversing it without her consent. “I’d been on call night shifts and he’d been travelling for work.”
Massimo looked away, unable to meet her eyes at that moment. Travelling for work? No, he’d been travelling to see Massimo, the meeting one Massimo had scheduled and demanded with a single purpose – to understand the man Alessia had agreed to spend the rest of her life with.
“And when he came back, it was as though something fundamental had changed. He looked at me like I was…” She shook her head. “I did love him,” she said quietly. “Not in the sense of passionate, wild, romantic love, but I loved everything he represented for me. I loved that he was a man I could see myself having a happy and calm life with. He was safe, and safest of all because he did love me in an all-consuming, passionate, worship kind of way.” She paused, waiting to see his reaction to that, but he gave none, only continued watching her thoughtfully.
“I know how that must sound, but marrying someone who basically worships you felt even safer. And having already been married –,” She lifted a hand to her lips, remembering who she was talking to. Massimo was completely different with her now but that didn’t alter the fact – he was still the man she’d been married to five years ago, the man who’d broken her heart.
“Go on,” he encouraged throatily.
“Being married to someone who barely realises you’re alive, I was looking forward to having a husband who…adored me.” She flushed, dropping her gaze to her lap. “We spoke about the family we wanted, the number of children we’d have, and so when he dumped me, it hurt. It really hurt. Not because I was losing him but because of everything we’d planned. I felt as though I was standing on a precipice of nothing. I felt so…alone. And so unlovable.” Her lips formed a brittle smile.
Max was looking at her in a way she couldn’t understand, with an intensity that was like a live wire. She had the strangest sense that he wanted to say something to her, but he was quiet for a very long time.
“Do you wish things had ben different?”
“No.”
He didn’t feel relieved. He knew he’d done the right thing. At least, he could understand why he’d done what he’d done, and at the time, it had felt absolutely right. But spending time with Alessia, understanding her as he did now, he wondered why it had never occurred to him to go to her with what he’d learned. To tell her the man she was about to marry was only after her fortune.
Because she might have told him to go to hell. She might have married Sam anyway, and Max hadn’t been prepared to risk that. But because of Sam’s unsuitability? Or because Max hadn’t wanted her to be married to anyone but him?
Heat spread through him, panic blinding him for a moment. Bright lights filled his eyes and he turned away from her to disguise the involuntary response. Massimo Montebello was not a man who questioned himself. He’d done the right thing; it was imperative that he believe that.
By the end of January, Alessia felt like she’d officially reached the ‘whale’ stage of her pregnancy. She’d long ago given up any hope of fitting into clothes that weren’t designed for pregnancy, and even the stretchy skirts and pants she’d bought felt as though they were a little restrictive now.
And she didn’t care one bit.
The sight of her rounded bump, the feel of their daughter flipping inside of her, the knowledge that she was about to give birth to a tiny little human, made her feel a beautiful closeness with their daughter, and also with her mother. Going through what her mother had, feeling the same feelings, knowing what it was to grow life within her body, seemed to forge their hands through time, linking them in a way that was poignant and beautiful.
“Alessia?”
She paused, midway through pushing the shirt off. It was too tight – nothing fit.
She turned towards the door, bewildered, wearing only a bra and a stretchy skirt.
Max froze just inside the doorframe, staring at her unashamedly.
“Did you need me?”
His eyes flashed with heat once more, and he took a step closer then shook his head, angling his body away from hers a little.
“The housekeeper said you didn’t have dinner. I was just checking if you’d like me to make you something?”
