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“Do I?” He took a drink from his wine, keeping his gaze level with hers.
“Yes.”
He shrugged. “It’s for the best.”
“You can’t keep doing it forever though. Eventually Milly’s going to be old enough to understand and she’ll want to know why you’re so furious with me.”
He dragged a hand through his hair and then placed his glass carefully down on a side table. “Let’s just hope my feelings are di
fferent by then. Or that I become a better actor. Good night, Ava.”
She watched him go with a desperate feeling of loneliness.
Her sisters were far too wrapped up in their own lives, and Marie and Jackson were out for the night. Cristiano couldn’t stand her. Ava began to place the boxes back in the cabinet, keeping out those which she’d use to decorate the tree. She stowed them on the table, out of Milly’s reach, and then lifted the phone from the cradle.
It rung three times before Angus answered, and at the sound of his voice, a smile spread across her face. For the first time in weeks, she felt like herself again. Angus, dependable, reassuring Angus, was there for her as always.
CHAPTER SIX
The clock on the bedside table told him it was almost two in the morning, but he didn’t stop. He was only halfway through the box, and with every photo, he was experiencing a cathartic release of emotion. He was feeling a growing sense of loss, for what he’d missed, but also a dawning of understanding and connection. The photos were helping. He could see so much of the miniscule changes in his daughter’s face. He found a photo of her at around three months of age, and he could see her little eyes were no longer vague and unseeing. She was focussing on things and showing happiness in her face.
Then, around six months, when suddenly she was photographed sitting up, or on her stomach in the act of crawling. He ran his finger across the picture, as if he could reach through time and feel her downy little cheeks for himself.
It was three o’clock when he reached nine months, and her hair was starting to thicken into the big bouncing curls she had now. Her smile was contagious; he felt ridiculous tears on his eyes and a huge grin on his own features as he looked at his daughter with a pride he’d never known it would be possible to possess.
And then, her first birthday. Cristiano forced himself to be patient. He made a cup of coffee and brought it back to bed, not wanting to rush the milestone.
Ava had organised a small party for her. Olivia and Sophie were there, looking as beautiful as ever. The three sisters together, arm in arm, with Ava in the middle clutching a laughing Milly, was a striking montage. He recognised Jackson and Marie in the background; his smile widened. There were some other people he didn’t know; perhaps friends of the sisters’ from school? Then, there was the photograph he’d been subconsciously dreading, and seeking.
Angus Edwards, smiling adoringly at Milly with an arm draped casually around Ava’s shoulders. Ava’s pose was the picture of contentment. Her fingers were wrapped around Milly’s wrist, and her other hand caught Angus’s. They looked … like a family.
The clutch of jealousy was sharp and strong. He understood it immediately.
This should have been him.
This could have been him.
If he hadn’t been so foolish and left Ava behind, when he had wanted so desperately to stay, he would have known about her pregnancy. He would have been there from the beginning. If he hadn’t been so proud, when she’d come to him in Rio, he would have learned the truth.
And then what? Would he have forgiven her for insisting that she wanted to go through with her ridiculous marriage to a man she didn’t love? Would he have forgiven her anything?
He was so furious with her at that time. So wounded and so desperately disappointed. For the first time in his life, Cristiano had been told ‘no’, and it was an experience he had bitterly resented – and Ava for wielding that weapon.
The next photograph was similar. Angus and Ava were holding Milly over her cake; her eyes were enormous as she studied the cream frosting and pale pink letters.
Cristiano expelled a frustrated sigh and laid the pictures down in a heap beside him. It caused the remainders in the pile to jump a little and scatter. The bottom picture instantly caught his attention.
His own eyes, crinkled in the corners and smiling, looked back at him. He lifted the photograph for closer inspection. It was taken years ago. He turned it over automatically, and felt a wave of memory. In Ava’s neat, precise hand on the back was a single word that made his whole heart crumble. Daddy.
* * *
The sun crested over the valley with urgency the next morning. Its heat was fierce and it woke Ava earlier than normal. She was uncomfortably hot. The fan overhead was moving with reliable speed, but it only served to stir up the heat.
She eyed the dam from her bedroom window, a little way in the distance, and from it, she let her gaze drift to his cabin.
He would be sleeping. She pushed that mental image aside – the wondering what he would be like asleep, all naked and glorious – and focussed instead on the dam.
She’d be quick. He’d never notice her. She pulled on her bathers and tied her hair back in a small ponytail. It was too short to do anything else with it, but that suited Ava’s hectic lifestyle these days.
