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Aurora couldn’t help the small laugh that burst from her lips. She clamped a hand over them and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. Nothing about this is funny.”
“Damned right.” Beatrice narrowed her gaze. “So you broke up?”
“Yes. Three and a half years ago.”
Beatrice did the math. “Around the time of your accident.” She slapped a hand against her forehead. “Oh, right. Around the time you quit modelling. How did I not see this?”
“We were very good at hiding our tracks,” Leo chimed in, being intentionally unhelpful now.
“Obviously.” Beatrice took in a deep breath. “And now?”
Aurora looked at Leonardo. “We’re still working out the details.”
“What are the details? What do you mean?”
Aurora opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut again.
Leonardo put an arm around Aurora’s waist and pulled her to his side. “The last thing I want to do is offend the bride, but it’s really none of your business.”
Beatrice glared at him for a full minute and then shrugged. “You’re right.”
She began to walk off, and Aurora moved to follow her. Leonardo called after her. “Leave it.”
“No.” She shook off his hand and chased her friend. “Listen, Bea.” She moved in front of the bride to halt her progress. “I love you. Right now, you’re the one I care about. It was wrong to keep our relationship from you. But I was nineteen when I met him. I was basically a kid. It caught me off guard and I handled it badly. When we broke up, I knew it would only burden and sadden you to know the truth, and so I continued to keep it secret. And now…. We’re still working out what’s going on. I know only one thing for certain. I would have told you the truth this time, as soon as I knew there was something to tell.”
Beatrice nodded. “I want to believe you. But you lied to me so well and for so long Aurora, that I just don’t.”
Beatrice took a few steps away from her and then paused. “I’m going on my honeymoon tomorrow. We can talk when I get back.”
Aurora swallowed her sob as she turned and moved back to Leonardo. He was leaning against a pillar of the house, his face cast into shadow by the moonlight. “Is she angry?”
Aurora winced. “On a scale of one to ten, she’d be about a thousand.”
“She’s always had a bit of a temper. Let her cool off. She’ll get over this.”
She shook her head and finally gave into the tears of bitter regret that had been burning her throat. “This is a disaster.”
“No.” He pulled her to him and kissed her lips, slowly and hungrily. “It’s not a disaster. This is the first night of the rest of our lives. I love you, S.B, with everything I have, I worship and adore you. Trust that it will work out for us this time.”
She was devastated that she’d had fights with two close friends in the space of ten minutes, but, ridiculously, she couldn’t help smiling. “I do.” And when she kissed him back, it conveyed every single one of her precious hopes, dreams and a begging desire not to be emotionally battered again.
8
The day of the Grand Prix began with a crisp sky over Melbourne, and a sun that was beating almost relentlessly. Aurora patiently and methodically halved oranges in the kitchen, and placed them in a large bowl. When she had done a whole bag, she flicked the switch on the juicer and began to press each half, one by one, down on the needle.
The sound was like metal being chipped through concrete. Loud and insistent. Orange the color of liquid gold ran from the spout, filling a glass jug. Aurora took great pleasure from the simplicity of the task, despite the fact she didn’t drink orange juice.
“Morning.” Leonardo appeared from the bedroom of their luxurious penthouse with a confident smile on his handsome face. He was wearing his team shirt and a pair of jeans, and his dark hair was combed back. She swallowed the lump of anxiety and forced a calm smile to her own face.
“Morning to you,” she said, quickly turning back to the juicer and lifting another piece of fruit in place. “Would you like juice?”
He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” He walked into the kitchen and kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine!” She said, over-brightly, in a way that left him in little doubt that she was anything but.
“I am going to see you late tonight. I will be tired, but I will kiss you, and tomorrow, when you wake up, I am going to make love to you. Slowly. Quickly. Desperately.”
Her heart pounded against her chest, her fingers shook. “I know.”
