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Chapter Fourteen
“YOU DON’T LOVE ME.”
It wasn’t a question yet she was staring at him, awaiting confirmation. He couldn’t give it. He had no idea what to say. Alessia had been like a sister to him for a long time; she was a part of his family. He loved her father, Carlo, a hell of a lot more than he did his own father.
None of that explained what he was feeling now.
She shook her head from side to side, anguish in her features. “You’re so messed up, Max, and you don’t even realise it.”
Something punched him hard in the gut – she was right, and she was wrong. “I know.” How could he not know? His life had been a series of decisions that served to highlight that.
“Just say it.”
He didn’t immediately understand.
“Say you don’t love me.” She swallowed hard. “Set me free. Please.”
God. The ‘please’ was the hardest thing he’d ever had to hear.
Set me free.
He was hurting her – the exact opposite of what he’d intended.
“I want this marriage to work.”
“It can’t.” She was working her teeth into her lip so hard that he thought she might draw blood. Her eyes were huge and hollow in her face. “It can’t work. I fell in love with you and living here now would be a special kind of torment. Even you must be able to see that.”
She’d fallen in love with him. He should feel something about that, shouldn’t he? Instead of this pervasive numbness? Instead of an ache spreading through him, and a sense of failure? This had never been about love.
But his head was screaming at him, his body exploding with pain and – strangely – joy.
“I’ll stay in Rome.”
She’d already moved on, as though it were a fait accompli. What could he say to fix this?
“I’m sorry about Sam.”
She stopped chewing her lip, her eyes widening.
It was hopeful.
“I’m glad I got him out of your life, but I should have told you much sooner. I intended to, but you already seemed to feel that you were somehow deficient.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So it was better to let me think he’d just woken up and decided he didn’t want me any longer? You thought that would make me feel better about myself?”
He hadn’t seen it that way.
“Don’t pretend any of this was for me.”
He didn’t respond.
“You blackmailed him to get out of my life – and it cost you a fortune. I’m furious that you did it, furious that he took the money, but at least I know why now. You could have told me at any point in the last six weeks but you didn’t.” Her features were pinched, her skin pale. “You told me – you swore to me – that you would tell me only the truth. Do you remember that?”
He did. Of course he did.
“I know.”
“And yet you’ve been lying to me –,”
