by Nina Singh
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It means we could have talked it over. Together. We could have discussed the pros and cons. Tried to come to some sort of mutual understanding.”
“We would have fought.”
She blew out a puff of frustration, turned to him. “This is what I mean about hypotheticals. All of this is moot until and if I actually get any kind of offer.”
Did she even realize she was practicing clear avoidance?
He’d had enough. They could keep going around like this in circles. With Brianna there would always be the next potential opportunity, the next pursuit.
The next chance to escape. Just like his mother.
His temper spiked further. “You want to tell me that we can discuss things as a couple, come to a mutual decision. Is that right?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me you were going to send in your recipes? Why was that not a matter of discussion?”
She actually stomped her foot. “You weren’t even home! I had an idea and I just wanted to get started.”
“Right.” He stood upright and pivoted on his heel. Another useless conversation that was getting them nowhere. Marco felt tired. And angry. He hadn’t even had a chance to change out of his work clothes. Whether she wanted to admit it or not—even to herself—Brianna had already made all sorts of decisions without consulting her husband.
“Don’t walk away, Marco. It’s what you always do.”
She didn’t understand. He had to walk away or things between them would take one of two turns. They’d either say things there would be no coming back from. Or they would fall into each other’s arms. Neither scenario produced any kind of a lasting happy ending.
“It’s been a long day, cara. And I believe you should tend to that burn some more.”
“That can wait. It’s not so bad anymore. I just want you to understand.”
“Understand what exactly?”
“What it would mean to someone like me to be able to say I made it as a master chef one day. In one of the most competitive markets of the world, no less.”
“Oh, but I do understand. You’ve told me countless times.”
Her cheeks grew red with anger. “If you really did understand, you wouldn’t have just said that. Why can’t we ever just have a civil conversation? Just to hammer some things out?”
Why was she doing this? Why was she taunting him? Didn’t she realize how close he was to the edge?
“You are not the kind of woman who wants her man to be civil, cara.” He had no logical reason to say such a thing. He’d done it just to throw her off balance. He ignored the shame that came with admitting that to himself. But not the satisfaction that the comment seemed to hit the mark.
That seemed to take her back a step. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop turning what I say into something seductive. I’m trying to have a conversation with you here.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do?”
“Yes. I’m trying to see if we can maturely, like adults, come to a solution about what was obviously a too hasty decision.”
“Right. Your moving here. You appear to regret it now.”
Her lower lip dropped. “Me? I appear to regret it? You’ve been a miserable troll just because you saw me working on some recipes. Don’t even pretend differently.”
He didn’t know whether he was supposed to deny that. Was she looking for reassurance? If anything, that was too weak a word. He was beyond miserable. And he was beyond angry. More so at himself than anyone else. “So let’s just decide what we want and work to rectify things.”
What he wanted was to somehow go back to that day at the pond. When she’d been laughing and joking with him as they both played with their son. He wanted to somehow hold that moment in time and suspend it forever.
Marco bit his lip. This was ridiculous. He had to get away from her now. “Fine. Then work it out.”
“What? Work what out?”
“You heard me. Ask the experts when it’s safe for you and Enzo to return to the States.”
“What?”
“That’s what you want.”
“I didn’t say that’s what I wanted.”
“Because you don’t really know. You never did. But I’m tired of arguing. Just figure out how quickly you’re able to get back to New York.” He bit out a curse. “You’re right. Having two confused and warring parents is not in Enzo’s best interest. We might be doing him a favor in the long term.”
She raised her hands, palms up. “So that’s it. I should just see about leaving with Enzo?”
Marco nodded, not even certain of what he was saying any more. He just wanted to get out of this conversation, get out of this house.
“Find your child psychologist. I’ll put all the resources Dirici Foods has to ensure he gets the best professional money can buy. And I’ll make sure he knows his papa will be a constant presence in his life. Just do what you have to do, Brianna. And then leave me alone.”
She was shocked enough to let him pass this time. Marco raced upstairs for his car keys. He didn’t want to think about what he’d just said. Or what he would do if Brianna took him at his word. Right now, he just wanted some fresh air. A long drive along the curvy stone cliff roads leading to town. Then perhaps he could drown his confusion in one of the bars there. It seemed like a good night to spend in a hotel.
He reached his suite and threw open the closet door to change into some fresher clothes. Something tugged at his attention and he glanced at the dresser drawer beneath the television. It always tugged at his attention but he never actually took it out. He should get rid of it, tear it up. Had meant to years ago. All the others had been disposed of.
Today. Right now. He pulled open the bottom drawer and pulled out the piece of paper, wilting and discolored due to constant handling by a small child years ago.
There was no need to hold on to it. No sentimental reasons, none due to happy memories.
He tore it into more than a dozen pieces. A mysterious letter he’d received from his mother about eighteen months after she’d left, telling him about her travels and her plans to visit again. A visit that never happened. The previous one had been the final time he’d seen her.
Then had come word decades later that she had passed.
It was about time he destroyed the letter. The last remaining reminder of Antonia Dirici. He should have destroyed it years ago, along with her photos.
Brianna chose that moment to step quietly into the room. “What was that?”
Marco bristled at the question. But he would answer it. “A letter. From mi madre. Right after she left for the last time.”
He pointed to the shredded pieces of paper on the floor. “That’s what broke my father finally and for good. Her sending me that letter left no doubt that she wouldn’t be coming back. Not that time.”
“Yet you kept it all these years.”
“To remind myself. Of exactly what she did to him. So that I would never forget.”
Brianna’s words when she spoke were soft but firm.
“I didn’t know him at all, but I have no doubt whatsoever that you’re a much stronger man than your father.”
“Then why did you leave?” He wasn’t sure which one of them was more shocked at the question. He had no idea he’d intended to ask it. Let alone that he’d been thinking it.
He turned to study her. Brianna did indeed look as if at a loss for words. Finally, she found her voice. “We had a lot working against us, Marco. We were both unprepared.”
“I wouldn’t argue with any of that.”
“Nor can you deny that you were not in a good place when you first met me. You were dealing with the news of your mother having just died.”
He simply nodded.
“One of the many things you never told me, that you never shared.”
“There was no point.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “The point was that I was your wife. But you weren’t really looking for one. You were looking simply for solace. Maybe even just a distraction.”
“And what of you, cara? If I recall, you were nursing some wounds yourself. Your relationship had just abruptly ended. Would you have found yourself in my arms otherwise?”
“Maybe not. We clearly didn’t give any of it enough thought. But the difference was, I was willing to try.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “And you don’t think I was?”
Her eyes started to glisten with tears and he wanted to kick himself. But all of this needed to be said. Here and now. Though her next words seemed to be causing her physical pain as she said them. “You clearly weren’t ready to share your life with someone, Marco. Certainly not someone like me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BRIANNA HEARD MARCO’S sports car roar to life and drive away from the garage toward the main gate. He hadn’t told her where he was going, or how long he’d be gone. Nonna was resting. The staff were all busy. And Enzo was winding down before dinner.
She felt utterly alone. Unable to bear the solitude after her argument with Marco, she made her way to the door to head for the vineyards. She had to get out of this house the same way Marco had.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard a cheery masculine voice behind her. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
“Leo!” She turned and gave him a tight hug. Leo was one of those few people who could lighten the darkest mood. That was exactly what she needed right now.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“I brought over some papers for Marco to sign. But it turns out he’s not home.”
“No, and I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Leo’s smile faltered almost imperceptibly but he didn’t ask any questions. “Then as I was driving past the vines, I saw you strolling along. Thought I’d stop by and say hello.”
“I’m so glad you did.”
“Need me to drive you back home again?”
She was nowhere near ready to return to the house, still needed the fresh air. “Actually, I’d like it much more if you walked with me a bit.”
Leo held out his arm for her to take. “It would be an honor.”
Slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow, she took the lead and resumed walking. “I never got a chance to apologize to you,” she told him.
He squinted at her. “Whatever do you need to apologize for?”
“That day at the harbor. Before the regatta. I was horribly ill. I know it dampened the mood and probably ruined everyone’s time.” It had certainly ruined Marco’s.
“Of course you don’t have to apologize for that, dear. You can’t help getting sick.”
She wanted to kiss him on the cheek for his kindness. He’d never been anything less since she’d met him. Why couldn’t she have fallen for someone like Leo? He was sweet-natured, lighthearted, with a good sense of humor. So unlike her husband.
And so not in any way enticing to her. Again, also very unlike her husband. She had to face it, she’d been drawn to that man without any hope of being able to resist.
“Still, it wasn’t how I wanted to meet Marco’s sailing friends for the first time.”
“Those are more than just sailing friends. We’ve all known each other since childhood. They will most certainly understand.”
“That Marco is married to someone who clearly doesn’t belong?”
Leo stopped in his tracks, forcing her to halt midstride as well. “Brianna? Is there something specific on your mind?”
Brianna felt the sting of tears and bit the inside of her cheek from crying on Leo’s shoulder right then and there.
“Isn’t it obvious? I was like a complete fish out of water that day. If you’ll pardon the pun.”
Leo gave her a gentle smile.
“You just have to get used to the sea. It takes some people longer than others. We all grew up on it, including Marco. Sometimes we forget others are more landlocked.”
“You’re a kind soul, Leo. But none of that erases that fact that Marco has much more in common with people such as yourself and—” She made herself stop. This was so useless.
“And?”
She should stop this right now. At the least she was going to sound like a jealous insecure besotted fool, something she’d swore she would never be.
“And say for instance the ladies who were there that day. Like Talia for example.”
Suddenly, understanding dawned on Leo’s face. “Ah, I see,” he said and looked away. Then he shocked her by laughing out loud.
“Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with your husband?” he asked mid-laugh.
Ouch. He was right. She’d been too cowardly to do so. “You’re right. Of course.”
Leo’s expression suddenly turned serious. More serious than she’d ever seen him. “I hope I’m not overreaching here, mi tesoro. But I’ve known Marco since we were both babes and...let’s just say he can be complicated.”
That was certainly putting it mildly. Brianna had to try hard not to roll her eyes. “Oh, I’ve definitely discovered that little fact on my own.”
“He’s also one of the most loyal men I’ve ever met. It’s a rare quality these days.”
Brianna inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of the flowers and vines. “I just want to understand him, Leo. He doesn’t make it easy.”
Leo rubbed his chin. “No, I’m sure he doesn’t. But maybe it will be enough to understand this—he’s never been as happy as he has since little Enzo arrived. He truly loves that boy and relishes his role as a father.”
He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know. Marco had done everything he could to make sure their son knew he was a cherished and loved child. She couldn’t have hoped for more in that regard.
Leo went on before she could respond. “I’ve also never seen him so taken by a woman.”
That statement did in fact surprise her. Leo was simply just trying to charm her, as was his nature. “Come on, Leo. I’m sure a man like Marco has had multiple liaisons. I’m not naïve.”
Leo gave her a mischievous wink. “I didn’t say he was a saint. But he’s never acted so...affected, let’s say.”
She affected Marco?
Leo rubbed a gentle hand on her shoulder, the way an older sibling might to reassure a younger one. “Don’t sell yourself short as far as your husband is concerned, love. I know my friend well and have no doubt that he cares deeply for you. You shouldn’t either.”
* * *
The sun had yet to set when Marco returned home. The drive had done him worlds of good. But unsettled feelings still churned in his gut. He made a beeline to his son’s suite. He hadn’t seen the boy all day and was dearly missing him. It was one thing to have him far away when he was a baby, but now that the boy was older he was such a sight to observe. Marco would be doing a lot of business in his New York offices if Brianna ended up back there.
At this point, that seemed very likely. Eventually, Brianna was going to make her way back to America. All signs pointed in that direction. Unless he did something about it. Unless he told her that it was the last thing he wanted.
He found Enzo in the tub. Brianna sat next to him as he played with an armada of plastic boats. He was up to his little armpits in foamy bubbles.
Brianna gave him a tentative smile when he walked in. Too weary to engage with her yet again, he simply motioned to his son. “Do you mind if I take over?”
Brianna stood. “Uh. Sure. He just got in though. He’ll be a while, the ships have a lot of mane
uvers to complete.”
“That’s fine. I’d like some time with him.” Maybe the soothing presence of his son would help him pull some of his thoughts together, give him some kind of action plan.
She appeared on the verge of saying something else. Then seemed to think better of it.
“Certainly.” Handing him a baby towel, she walked out the bathroom door.
Marco crouched down on his knees by the side of the tub. Enzo gave his father a wide smile then shoved a boat under the water.
“That’s not a submarine, little man.” The innocuous comment earned him a loud giggle.
“This one is,” he said and plucked one of the toys out of the water.
“Toot. Toot.”
It was Marco’s turn to laugh. “Submarines don’t—” He stopped himself from making the correction. To a boy Enzo’s age, submarines could absolutely make train noises. The world was endless, the possibilities limitless. He would try to instill that belief system in his son.
He picked up another boat and held it in front of Enzo. “What sound does this one make?”
The boy actually roared.
Marco gave his hair a tousle. “There’s something I want you to know,” he told him even though he knew Enzo was too young to understand what he was about to say. “I want you to know Papa loves you. And he always will.”
“Papa!” Enzo repeated with gusto.
“That’s right. No matter how big you get, I’ll always be your papa. Do you understand?”
Enzo nodded so enthusiastically his chin hit the water.
“Good. Remember that always.”
Enzo would never be lacking a father. Marco had learned firsthand how important that was.
A soft knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts. “I thought you might need some help getting him out and dry,” Brianna said, sticking her head through the door.
“That’d be great, thanks.”
As she stepped in with the towel, Marco lifted the boy up and placed him in his mother’s arms. For one brief moment, their eyes locked. Marco had a strange urge to tell her all the things he’d just spoken to his son. Brianna needed to hear them too.
