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But why would he lie?
The baby. He wanted this baby, more than anything. If she hadn’t fallen pregnant, he wouldn’t have contacted her.
“Oh, God.” She turned away, gulping in air, putting a hand out to support herself on the doorjamb. She felt weak and so angry with herself.
“Signora? Va bene?”
She blinked at the kindly stranger and nodded; tried to smile. “Grazie.”
Massimo’s hand was around her back a moment later, pulling her towards him, his eyes showing worry. Worry about her? Or at whatever Sam knew that he could tell Alessia?
“I’m fine.” The words emerged snappier than she’d intended. “Let’s go…back.” She couldn’t say ‘home’. Within moments the word had lost its place in her heart.
“Si.”
The dress felt like a chain, the necklace a padlock. She could hardly breathe. She sat beside him in the limousine without touching, without looking, without acknowledging.
“Alessia,” his voice was just a murmur, begging her to look at him, drawing her attention. She swallowed, hating that her head swivelled towards him without her consent.
“I’m sorry he was there.”
She was silent. His eyes roamed her face. She couldn’t read his expression, she knew only that he was trying to piece things together himself.
“You were hurt.”
“No.” Denying that was easy. She reached between them for the leather armrest. She knew there was a concealed panel beneath it. She flipped it open and pressed a smooth black button. A dark grey screen lifted between the driver’s section of the limousine and their own.
A muscle jerked in Max’s jaw; his eyes didn’t leave her face.
“You loved him and he broke your heart. You weren’t prepared to see him tonight. It’s normal that you’d feel…”
“I didn’t love him.” The words felt good to say. She had wondered about that a little, but she knew now that what she’d felt for Sam hadn’t been love. It was comfort and reliability. Relief. Seeing him tonight had awoken nothing within her heart, no familiar sense of need, no aching regret. Just mild interest.
Max shook his head. “You do not need to lie to me.”
Her lips parted of their own volition. “Isn’t that a little rich?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure I understand your meaning.”
“No, of course you don’t.” She ran her finger over the armrest, wondering if she should wait, sleep on what she’d heard, think about this from all angles. But Alessia was driven by emotions, and her emotions demanded an explanation.
“I was wearing his jacket,” she said quietly. Max’s eyes swept to her bare shoulders, waiting.
“I realised when I left you both. I came back, to return it.” She pinned him with all the hurt and confusion that was chewing through her. “I overheard you.”
Her words hit him. She saw it in every line of his face, though he stayed still, close to her – too close – making breathing difficult.
“What did you hear?”
It was the wrong thing to say. The cautious question showed how dishonest he’d been – and how dishonest he intended to continue being.
“For God’s sake, Max. What did you do?”
His expression remained guarded, defensive.
“I mean it, what did you do to Sam? What consequence was he referring to? What is he not allowed to tell me?”
Max settled back in his seat, quiet and thoughtful for a moment. When he spoke, there was restraint in his voice, each word carefully chosen, weighted in his mouth before being expelled. “I’m sorry you found out like this.”
