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“Do you know why I was in Rome? Because your uncle asked me to check on you. It had nothing to do with you.”
He’d expected the news to have more of an impact, but she just blinked.
“We only spent the past two weeks together because I agreed to do a loyal employee a favor and because we could help each other out.” His jaw tightened. He needed to say it. Needed to push her away for the last time.
He’d expected tears. Insults. Something other than the long, long stare she gave him.
“You may not love me, but I think you felt something more than just casual lust for me,” she finally said, her voice echoing over the pool and filling the space. “You’re pushing me away like you did ten years ago. But,” she added, holding up a hand as he started to speak, “you clearly don’t trust me enough to share what happened. And for that reason, I’m ending our arrangement tonight.”
The unexpected words locked him in place. “That’s not what we agreed to.”
“No.” She raised her chin. “The situation has changed. I fell in love with you again.”
Each syllable reverberated throughout his entire being. The last time she’d uttered those words, it had filled him with guilt and self-loathing. Plenty of both still existed, but after the happiness he’d found with her these past two weeks, it also filled him with a longing so strong he nearly gave in.
“I love you, Antonio,” she repeated. “But you would rather stay in the past and keep your walls up than trust me. When you say you don’t love me, I believe you, because if you did, I think you’d trust me enough to know I care about you, sins and all.” Her head tilted to the side, some of the fire leaving her expression to be replaced by sadness. “Or, if what I think is true and you do care for me and you’re just trying to do the noble thing, then you’re repeating what you did back then and making a choice for me. Either way, hanging on to the past is more important to you than looking toward the future.”
The air rushed out of his lungs as she reached down, unhooked the bracelet and laid it on a small table next to one of the lounge chairs.
“You can keep it.” His voice sounded strangled.
She shook her head. “No, thank you. Every time I would look at it, I’d think of why you bought it for me.”
He frowned then closed his eyes as he remembered. He’d told her he’d bought the bracelet to play up their relationship for the cameras. Not because he’d wanted to, but because it looked good.
“I bought it for you, Anna.”
Her smile this time was sad, fleeting. “We both know that’s not true. But I appreciate it.” She started to turn away.
His heart twisted, ordered him to stop her from leaving, but he managed to keep his feet rooted in place.
She paused. Glanced at him one last time with that blue-amber gaze. “I meant what I said that night at the restaurant. Thank you. For everything.”
She turned.
In the blink of an eye, she was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ANNAWIPEDANOTHERpesky tear off her cheek as she propped her feet up on the metal railing of the balcony surrounding the rooftop. Someone had dragged an old metal chair up and left it there. She’d spent her first Sunday back, the morning she should have been at the wedding breakfast, painting it a yellow so bright it almost made her eyes hurt to look at in the direct sunlight.
But she’d needed something cheery. In the week since the wedding reception, she’d spent every morning and every evening on the roof, sipping a latte in the morning and a glass of wine at night as she evaluated her drawings of the day.
Thankfully, Sylvie Smythe had helped keep her mind off things. Her partnership with the legendary designer would be announced on Monday, followed by a whirlwind tour of Sylvie’s existing European warehouses and then a trip across the sea to a new textile mill opening up next month just outside her old hometown.
Kess, who had dropped by to lend an ear and brought a bottle of wine, had pronounced the opening of the mill as fate. She’d also denounced Antonio as the “biggest ass on the planet” and offered to set Anna up with a male model from Sweden that she promised would fulfill every one of Anna’s dreams.
A sigh escaped her. She couldn’t regret having Antonio as her first lover. Unfortunately, she suspected that every relationship she would have from here on out would be overshadowed by loving and losing him. Again.
Except this time, she’d been mature enough to see past the cruel words. Antonio had been hurting. He hadn’t told her why, but she had made her own deductions. Seeing William, knowing he had been injured in a car accident the same week Antonio had ended their friendship. The way Antonio had tensed up in the car ride on the way down the mountain from the restaurant, how he never drove, his nightmarish mumblings in the night. His attempted rejection had bounced off her this time. No, what had hurt the most was that she had shared everything with him about her life, her fears, her insecurities, allowed him to pry into her hopes and dreams and talk her up.
Yet he hadn’t trusted her enough to do the same.
Her hands curled around her mug of coffee, savoring the warmed ceramic. Fall had started to slip in early as August had turned to September. A cool wind blew through the streets, carrying the occasional leaf up over the rooftops. She stood and walked to the railing. The horn of a scooter filled the narrow alleyway and brought a sad smile to her face. That was the one thing they hadn’t done in Positano: ride a scooter up and down the hilly streets. She’d asked, but Antonio had made excuses or whisked her away to something else every time.
She’d thought at first he hadn’t wanted to look silly. She could hear his voice in her head, deep and with a faintly horrified tone. “A billionaire on a scooter?”
Now she knew better. Antonio didn’t trust himself. Not to drive, not to love. Not to be happy. Amazing how much growing up and becoming stronger had done for her. Back then, the part that had hurt the most had been him not loving her back. What hurt now was knowing Antonio would probably keep himself in that hellish prison he’d created for himself for a very long time, possibly forever.
