by Kate Hewitt
‘Which is what?’ Mia whispered.
‘Love.’ He spoke the word flatly. ‘It’s too hard for me, Mia. With my childhood...my parents... I can’t do it.’
‘Did I ever say I wanted you to love me?’ Mia asked in a shaking voice, even though it hurt to say the words, because in her heart and mind she’d been asking him, begging him every day. Had he been able to see that? Had it horrified him?
‘A marriage needs love as its foundation,’ Alessandro stated. ‘Without it, it will always crumble at one point or another. It won’t be strong enough to endure. I’ve realised that now...and I realise that what we have isn’t enough.’
‘So what are you really saying?’ Mia asked, her voice hardening. ‘You want a divorce?’
‘We could probably arrange an annulment, or otherwise, yes, a quiet divorce.’
‘And what about Ella?’ Mia demanded, her voice catching on her daughter’s name. ‘What about her needing a father? You insisted on that—’
‘We’ll arrange visits. I can still be part of her life. I want to be. That won’t change.’
‘Visits.’ Mia felt faint suddenly, her vision blurring, as the awful import of everything Alessandro was saying slammed into her. Slowly she walked to the bed and sank onto its edge, blinking the world back into focus. ‘Why are you telling me this now? Is it because of our argument? What made you realise all this so suddenly?’ Her voice rose and then broke. ‘Was none of this real?’
‘How could it have been?’ Alessandro returned rawly. ‘Considering?’
Tears stung her eyes then and she did her best to blink them back. She felt as if her heart was being wrung like a rag inside her, squeezing out its last painful drops of love. ‘So all this time, you’ve just been pretending? Orchestrating a takeover? You are known to be subtle,’ she added bitterly. ‘Even when it’s hostile.’
‘Don’t think of it like that, Mia...’
‘How am I supposed to think of it?’ she demanded. ‘Either our marriage was real or it wasn’t. Either the vows you made were sacred and binding or they weren’t.’
‘I’m trying to be fair and give you your freedom—’
‘Some freedom. What am I supposed to do now?’
He spread his hands. ‘Whatever you want. I’ll make sure you have a generous settlement. You’ll want for nothing—’
‘I’ll want for everything.’ Mia’s voice broke. ‘Why are you doing this, Alessandro?’
‘Because I told you, I realised that a marriage needs more than what we have to grow—’
‘And you’re so sure you can never, ever love me? Learn to love me, if it’s so important?’ Her voice broke as the full force of rejection hit her. He stayed silent, and she looked up, and for the first time she saw the torment on his face. ‘Or are you worried that I can’t love you?’ she whispered, barely daring to say the words. ‘Is that what this is about, Alessandro? Are you afraid?’
‘I’m not afraid.’
‘Then say the words,’ she demanded. ‘Say, “Mia, I don’t love you and I never will.”’ He stayed silent and she rose, her hands balled into fists by her sides, risking everything on this. ‘Say them.’
‘Mia...’ He stopped and shook his head. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘Well, you’re failing miserably at that, because you already have. Immeasurably. And what I think, Alessandro, is that you don’t want to be hurt. So tell me now that you don’t love me. Make it real.’
He sighed heavily, his gaze averted. ‘I’m not sure I know how to love.’
‘So...’
A hesitation, endless, awful, as he searched her face, steeling himself. ‘No,’ Alessandro said finally. ‘I don’t love you. I... I never will.’
Mia had been bracing herself for it, expecting it, but those two simple, stark words still held the power to fell her. She swayed where she sat and two tears slipped quickly and coldly down her cheeks before she could stop them. She dashed her eyes with the back of her arm and then stood up on wobbly legs.
‘Fine. I’ll pack in the morning.’
‘It’s better this way...’
No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all. But at least she knew now. With a leaden heart, Mia walked out of the bedroom—and away from her husband.
* * *
He was a coward. Alessandro lay in bed, gritty-eyed as he stared at the ceiling. Mia was sleeping in a guest bedroom, and he missed her presence with a ferocity that undid him...but even more overwhelming and shaming was the truth pounding through him that he hadn’t been brave enough to admit.
I don’t love you.
Except he did. Of course he did. And in the moment she’d asked he’d known what a pathetic coward he was, because he’d been afraid to admit it. The most crucial moment of his life, and he’d blown it out of fear. He’d lied, because it had seemed easier. It had felt safer. Because letting her walk away now was surely better than letting her hurt him later...or, heaven forbid, hurting her.
Except he’d just hurt her unbearably.
I don’t love you. The cruellest words he could have said, as terrible as the words his mother had said to him, which had tormented him for decades. How could he have done it? How could he have let himself?
It would have been worse later, he told himself for the tenth time. Surely it would have been worse later.
Except right now it felt like hell.
He shifted in the bed, knowing sleep would never come. Would she really leave in the morning, with Ella? Had he just fractured his family, and for what purpose? He’d convinced himself he’d been noble, saving her from a loveless marriage. How deluded was he, thinking that was the right choice? Mia had seen through him, of course. She’d known what this was really about.
It wasn’t about him not loving her...it was about him loving her too much. It was about how loving someone meant losing yourself, just as they’d both feared, in their own ways. And gaining so much more...if Mia loved him back.
Why was he so scared to risk it? Risk himself? Could this really, possibly, be better?
It had to be.
The next morning, after a sleepless night, Alessandro came downstairs to find Mia already packed, Ella in her arms.
‘You’re going already...’ Even though he’d been expecting it, he could scarcely believe the sight in front of him.
‘It seems better.’ Mia’s voice was flat, her shoulders slumped. She looked as if all the life had drained out of her, as if the very will to live had been sucked from her soul.
He’d done this, Alessandro realised. This was his fault. This was all going so horribly wrong, simply because he hadn’t had the courage to take the biggest risk you could in this life...loving someone else. Giving them your heart. Accepting theirs in return.
And he knew he couldn’t let it end this way. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t live life as a coward, unwilling to take the biggest risk of all, to let go of control and hand someone his heart. ‘Mia, wait.’
She looked at him with lifeless eyes, Ella clutched in her arms. ‘Do you love me?’ he asked, the words raw, his voice quavering.
She stared at him blankly, her face so weary and sad, tears nearly stung his eyes. ‘Why are you asking that now, Alessandro?’
‘Because...because it’s important. Because I should have asked last night, when you asked me.’
‘Why do you care, when you’ve already told me how you feel?’ Mia responded quietly. ‘Do you just want to pour salt into my wound? Isn’t it enough that you don’t love me?’
He hesitated, poised to fly, afraid to fall. Even now, with everything at stake, he held back. And in his silence was his condemnation.
‘I’ve called a taxi,’ Mia said. ‘It should be here now.’
Alessandro glanced at her one small travel bag. ‘Where are your bags?’
‘I’m leaving everyth
ing here. I... I don’t want it. I certainly don’t need all those fancy gowns and things.’ From outside they heard the crunch of tyres on gravel. Mia hoisted her bag in one hand, Ella in her car seat in the other.
This was it. The end. She was really leaving, because he was going to let her.
Do you love me?
She hadn’t answered the question, and Alessandro couldn’t blame her, considering what his own response had been last night.
He’d said he wasn’t capable of love, or even that he knew what it was, and yet...what if he did?
What if in this moment he really did?
What if real love wasn’t a safe landing, but a dangerous fall? What if it was risking everything, not knowing the result? Letting yourself get hurt, because that was part of the whole, terrifying, incredible deal?
Mia was at the door, one hand reaching for the handle, the seconds sliding past far too fast.
‘Mia!’ His voice came out in a shout of command that made her stiffen. ‘Mia,’ he said more softly. ‘Please wait.’
‘Why? What is there left to say?’
He swallowed hard, his throat impossibly tight. Now. He needed to say it now. She reached for the handle again.
‘I love you.’
The words fell into the stillness, and even now part of him wanted to snatch them back. The last time he’d said them had been to his mother, and she’d wearily told him she wished she’d never had him. He’d vowed never to say them again. Never to want or need to say them again.
But Mia had changed him. Loving Mia had changed him.
‘Alessandro...’ She shook her head slowly. ‘Why are you saying this now? You can’t mean it...’
‘I do. I was too much of a coward to say it before. But the truth is I’ve been falling in love with you for months now, and fighting it all the way.’ His words came faster and more assuredly, and the release of finally being open and honest was strangely wonderful. Freeing in a way he’d never expected. ‘I never wanted to love anyone, Mia. My mother didn’t love me, and I wanted her to, desperately. She told me she wished she’d never had me...she forgot about and neglected me time and again, and still I wished she’d love me. I loved her.’ He swallowed hard, the words coming faster and faster as he tried to explain. ‘At a young age I told myself I’d never let someone have that kind of control over me. I’d be the one who was in control, always, and I made that my life’s mission. Yet here I am, risking everything because it’s too important not to. Because I love you too much, and I don’t want to be a coward any more. I love you, Mia. I love you.’
He spread his hands wide, his heart thudding as he waited for her response.
‘You...love me?’ She sounded incredulous as she turned from the door and put down her bag and Ella’s car seat.
‘With all my soul. All my heart. I’m terrified, Mia. I’m shaking.’ He let out a ragged laugh. ‘And yet here I am, giving everything I have to you. You can do with it as you will. You can walk out that door as you were intending to, or you can come over here and slap my face and tell me what an arrogant imbecile I am.’ He took a quick, steadying breath. ‘Or you can tell me you love me back, or even that you could learn to love me, like you asked me to last night, and you’ll give us a chance even though I’ve been so very stupid and scared. I wasn’t giving you your freedom... I was trying to find mine. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to go. I love you.’
He was babbling, but he didn’t care. He’d say anything to make her stay...even, especially, the truth.
‘I’ve been afraid too,’ Mia said after a long moment. ‘I’ve been fighting it too, because I was scared of losing myself, like I said. So scared, and yet it happened anyway.’
‘Yes.’ Alessandro’s voice was fervent. ‘But I realised last night that loving someone means losing yourself—to another person. Entrusting them with everything that you are. And that’s terrifying, but it’s also so good and right. I know I’ll mess up, Mia, so many times. I’ll be angry or thoughtless or bossy or...something. But I’ll try. And I hope you’ll forgive me. And learn to love—’
‘Oh, Alessandro, you idiot,’ Mia said with tears in her voice. ‘I already love you. I’ve loved you for ages. I just thought you’d never love me. You’d never do what you just said, and offer me everything. Ever since our wedding I’ve felt you’ve been holding something back...’
‘I know. I have been. But it’s yours now. All of it—me—is yours. I’ll tell you whatever you like. I’ll give you the parts of myself I’ve been trying to hide, the ones that are dark and ugly and needy. And hopefully you won’t be put off—’
‘Never,’ Mia whispered. Tears trickled down her face, and with a jolt Alessandro realised he was crying too.
‘So you’ll stay?’
‘Yes.’ Mia walked towards him, her arms held out, so all it took were two steps for Alessandro to catch her up in his, pulling her body closely to his. Home. He was home. ‘I’ll stay,’ Mia whispered as he lowered his head to kiss her. ‘I’ll stay. For ever.’
EPILOGUE
Three years later
SUN BEAMED DOWN on the terrace as Mia stepped out, baby Milo in her arms. It was her son’s christening, three months after his birth. Just like Ella, he had Alessandro’s grey eyes and her blonde hair. He gurgled up at her now before catching sight of his father and reaching out chubby arms to him.
‘Hello, caro,’ Alessandro said, scooping up his son easily and planting a kiss on his plump cheek. ‘It’s your special day.’
‘She’s been good as gold,’ Alyssa said as she joined them on the terrace, holding Ella, now three and a half, by the hand. ‘A very proud big sister.’
Mia smiled at Ella, and then shared a loving look with Alessandro. The last three years had been so wonderful, so blessed. Admittedly, it hadn’t always been easy. They’d had their battles and struggles, both of them learning day by day to let go of control, of their very selves, as they committed themselves to each other in small yet significant ways.
Now Alessandro brushed a kiss across her lips as he cradled their son. ‘Happy?’ he asked softly, his eyes full of warmth and tenderness that, even after three years, made Mia melt inside.
She reached for his free hand, lacing her fingers through his. ‘Yes,’ she told him, thankful for so much, and especially this man by her side who had chosen to share his life, his very self, with her. ‘Very, very happy.’
* * *
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Secrets of His Forbidden Cinderella
by Caitlin Crews
CHAPTER ONE
“HIS EXCELLENCY IS not at home, madam.” The butler sn
iffed, visibly appalled.
He did not so much bar the door to the grand and ancient palatial home as inhabit it, because such a glorious door—crafted by the hands of long-dead masters and gifted to the aristocratic occupants likely on bended knee and with the intercession of a heavenly host, because that was how things happened here in this fairy tale of a place that had claimed this part of Spain for many centuries—could not be blocked by a single person, no matter how officious or aghast.
And the butler was both, in spades. “One does not drop in on the Nineteenth Duke of Marinceli, Most Excellent Grandee of Spain.”
Amelia Ransom, considered excellent by her closest friends instead of an entire nation and with decidedly lowbrow peasant blood to prove it, made herself smile. Very much as if she hadn’t, in fact, turned up at the door of a house so imposing that it was unofficially known as el monstruo—even by its occupants. “I know for a fact that the Duke is in.”
An old acquaintance of hers still lived in one of the nearby villages—“nearby” meaning miles upon miles away because the Marinceli estate was itself so enormous—and had reported that the Duke’s plane had been seen flying overhead two days ago. And that the flag with the Marinceli coat of arms had been raised over the house shortly thereafter, meaning the great man was in residence.
“You mistake my meaning,” the butler replied, his deep, cavernous face set in lines of affront and indignation that should have made Amelia slink off in shame. And might have, had she been here for any reason at all but the one she’d come to share with Teo de Luz, her former stepbrother and the grandiose Duke in question. “His Excellency is most certainly not at home to you.”
It was tempting to take that as the final word on the matter. Amelia would have been just as happy not to have to make this trip in the first place. It had been a gruesome red-eye flight out of San Francisco to Paris, particularly in the unappealing seat that had been all she could get on short notice. The much shorter flight to Madrid had been fine, but then there was the drive out of the city and into the rolling hills where the de Luz family had been rooted deep for what might as well have been forever, at this point.
