“I don’t believe you. I will never believe anything you say again.”
“We need to talk.”
“No.” She glared at him defiantly. “I don’t want to talk to you, or I would have called you. Don’t you get that?”
“Sophie, I know that you were telling the truth.”
She stared at him for a long time, and then finally, she laughed. It was a hollow cackle. “So? Is that supposed to make me forgive you? Because now you see that I would never in a million years hook up with a married guy?”
“I had you investigated. I got a … wrong, as it turns out … report about your work in Sydney.”
“Oh my God.” She sat down, simply because she felt shock assailing her body and taking her strength. Her legs were jelly. “You are some kind of sick bastard, aren’t you? You knew about Edwin all along?”
“Yes.” He crouched down before her. “I did. And I am. You must understand that I have spent my life being defensive and protective. These habits are not easily given away.”
She clenched her teeth. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Please, Sophie …”
“No.” She glared at him. “Do you understand what you did?”
His heart twisted painfully inside his muscled chest. “Yes.”
“No, you don’t.” She stood, and this time, anger propelled her forward. “You aren’t the only one who has a past. I lost my mum. And I had to quit a job I loved because the guy basically attacked me. And I’ve been worried sick about Helena, and trying to help Eric, and loving those boys, and then I met you, and I’d never known anything like it. I was so blown away by how much I loved you, and how right it felt. I didn’t doubt for even one second that you felt the same way.”
“But I did, Sophie, I just didn’t realise it.”
“No.” She laughed, and kept walking, back up the stairs and into the freezing cold night. “You wish that you had, because that would make you feel better. You hate that you were wrong about everything, because deep down, you think of yourself as morally superior to everyone on earth. But you aren’t. You used me, and you treated me like dirt. I didn’t deserve that.” Tears sparkled on her long lashes. “And you’re here now because you want me to make it better for you. I’m not going to.” His expression was scored with emotion. But she ignored his hurt. “It’s over.”
He swallowed. “Please, let me talk with you. Just have dinner with me, at least, and hear what I say. I have words in my mind that I cannot contain. I must talk to you.”
She sobbed, as the dam of emotion threatened to burst completely. “I don’t want to hear them. Nothing you say matters. Don’t you get it? I know that there are no words that will fix this.”
“Sophie,” he groaned, and reached for her hand, but she flinched away violently.
“I only came to see Eric. I shouldn’t have called him. I had no idea he would tell you, or I would have found another way to get in touch. I just wanted to hear about the boys.” Her voice cracked and she whipped her face away, angry at herself for showing such intense vulnerability to this man.
“Helena is in hospital. I am spending time in London while she recovers.”
Sophie stared at him, and relief that the truth was finally out in the open was a welcome wave.
“You knew about her depression. You understood where I was blind.”
What could she say to that? Nothing. She was silent.
“Our childhood has left marks on her. She is anxious. She has underlying issues that need to be addressed. She will get that time now to unravel the burdens our years of living rough left on her. She will get help, finally.”
Sophie nodded; she had no words to describe how glad she was. “How are Ian and John?”
“They are missing their mother; and they are missing you. Their new nanny is good to them, but she does not read Peter Pan.”
Sophie didn’t smile. She’d lost the ability. “I have a new family now.”
“You work for someone else?” It displeased him and frustrated him all at once.
“Temporarily. Yes.”
“Yet you are here.”
“Yes.”
And for the first time he saw the paint in her hair and on her shirt and he smiled. “I am asking you only for dinner.”
His smile hardened her heart. It had been his smile that had turned her admiration into love. Her longing from lust to love. “And I am asking you to leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Don’t you get it, Alex? You broke what I felt for you beyond repair. You made it ridiculous and untenable. It’s not just that I needed time to get over it. To forgive you. There is no forgiving this.”
“Only because you think I tricked you into marriage,” he murmured sharply, aware that the street was busy.
“You told me that’s what you did!”
“And maybe I even believed it then. But Sophie, how could I not love you?”
“Don’t!” She stamped her foot. “Don’t use that word. You have no idea what it is to love someone.”
“I am telling you the truth …”
She lifted a hand and slapped his cheek hard, and then she sobbed. Grief and shock mingled inside of her. “Don’t. Just … don’t.” She spun on her heel and ran down the street. It was crowded but she was slight and she weaved effortlessly through the hoards of commuters. Only at the corner, with traffic flying in all directions, was she forced to pause.
Alex, one hand lifted to his burning cheek, strode purposefully down the pavement towards her. He didn’t know what to do to fix this, but he had to get through to her. He watched as his wife looked in both directions, and then flicked her head over her shoulder, to see where he was. Her eyes clutched to his, and then her mouth opened and she winced.
It all happened incredibly fast. One moment she was looking at him in surprise, and the next she was crumpling to the footpath. He reached her just in time to thrust a hand beneath her head and save it from hitting the ground. But there was still blood beneath her. Where was it coming from? Had something hit her? A car? A bike?
With fingers that shook, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled triple nine. The ambulance appeared swiftly, but Sophie did not properly regain consciousness.
The next two hours passed in a blur. Despite the fact they were married, Alex was kept in the waiting room. The floor was linoleum, the walls were pale blue and a fluorescent light flickered with troublesome inconsistency.
No one ever kept Alex waiting. For many years, doors had opened swiftly as he approached them. People paused conversations to hear what he had to say.
And yet hospitals and illnesses were levellers like no other.
With Sophie in a room, having suffered God knew what kind of accident, he was simply a man, waiting to hear about the woman he loved.
And the waiting was agonising.
Finally, when Alex was about to jump out of his skin, a doctor appeared and called his name.
“Hello, I’m Maggie.” Her expression was perennially kind. She had a soft easiness to her that spoke of many such conversations.
Alex nodded, his face ashen. Internally, he braced for bad news.
“Your wife will be fine.”
He expelled the breath he’d been holding; and he could have hugged the calm, gentle doctor. “Can I see her?”
Maggie shook her head. “I’m sorry, not yet.” Maggie held a hand out and indicated that he should follow her.
“What happened to her? What is it?”
“There’s no easy way to tell you this.” Her expression softened even further. If she employed any more sympathy, she would turn into a giant Hallmark card. Fear pulsed through him. It was bad news. The doctor was weighing up her words, summing him up for how much he could take.
“Tell me,” he commanded. He needed to know.
Maggie nodded. “I’m very sorry, Mr Petrides, but your wife lost the baby.”
Alex stopped in his tracks and stared at her. “What are you sa
ying? She was pregnant?”
Maggie consulted her charts. “Indeed. Around eight or nine weeks along, I’d say.”
Alex closed his eyes on the wave of pain. For Sophie, and for him, and for the life they’d created, and lost. “Did she know?”
“I … I’m not sure,” Maggie said quizzically. “You didn’t?”
“No.” He squared his shoulders. “I must see her, please.”
“She’s still groggy from the anaesthetic.”
“I need to see her,” he responded, his chest hurting, his arms aching.
Maggie looked at him for a moment and then nodded. “She mustn’t be tired out, though. She’s undergone a significant trauma and procedure, and her body is weak.”
“Doctor, why did she lose the baby?” He asked, just outside the door to Sophie’s room.
Maggie’s look was carefully blanked of emotion. She spoke slowly, to drum the meaning of her words into him. “There is no hard and fast explanation. Sometimes, it just happens. The important thing to remember is that it doesn’t mean you will not be able to conceive and carry a pregnancy to term.”
Alex’s gut clenched. He knew he wasn’t likely to get a second chance with Sophie. Even before this happened, she had been far too devastated by his actions to forgive him. And now? Everything was broken.
He pushed into Sophie’s room and then stopped in his tracks at the sight of her. So pale and weak, against the hospital issue pillows.
Her eyes were bleak when they landed on him, but she didn’t look away.
“I didn’t know.” She answered his unspoken question, and a sob tore from her. “I had no idea.”
Alex nodded. “That does not matter.” He moved to her, but when he put a hand on her head, she made a sound of disgust.
“Don’t touch me. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to look at you.” She turned away from him, and stared out of the window.
“I need to be with you.”
“Well, I need you not to be.”
“What do you need? What else? If not me, what?”
“I don’t know.” She sobbed. “My phone. I need to talk to my sisters.”
“Of course. Would they fly to you? I can send a jet …”
“No.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t want to scare them. I’ll be fine. I just want to … speak with them. About anything. They always make me feel better.”
Alex knew then that he wanted to be that person to Sophie. The one person who could take away any evil, or at least endure it by her side.
“What about the family you work with? Can I call them for you?”
“Oh, goodness. Yes.” She shook her head. “I mean, no. But I’ll need to notify them. Please just get my phone.”
He nodded, and pulled it from her bag. Even the sight of it, with its bright pink case, made his stomach twist with memory. He listened as she spoke, so eloquently and calmly, and yet perfectly vaguely, explaining that she couldn’t work for a time.
She disconnected the call but kept the phone clasped in her lap.
“Are you going to call your sisters?” He prompted, reclining with assumed indolence against the wall.
Sophie stared at the phone and shook her head. She wanted to hear their voices more than anything in the world, but she knew that one word from Ava and she’d burst into tears. It would be the same with Liv. They would know something bad had happened, and they would worry themselves sick.
She lifted bleak eyes to his face. “You can go, Alex. I’d rather be alone.”
“Are you going to slap me again?” He said mockingly, lifting his hand to his cheek.
She might have smiled, in a past life. She didn’t now.
Her lips quivered as she flipped her head on the pillow and eyed him warily. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. He didn’t say anything, and after a moment, Sophie gave up fighting. She closed her eyes and gave into the tears.
A baby. Their baby. How had she not known? Why hadn’t she realised?
And why had she lost it?
When Alex put a hand on her head and stroked it softly, she didn’t move away. She allowed herself to take comfort from the contact, and to relish the touch.
Though she would have sworn she wasn’t tired, Sophie was asleep within minutes. The next thing she knew, it was somewhere in the middle of the night. The room was mostly darkened, but for the faint electric glow cast by the hospital’s instruments. The sleeping shape of Alex was visible hunched in one of the upright chairs. She looked at him and hardened her heart.
He was there because he felt guilty. A burden of responsibility, like he felt with Helena. That wasn’t the same thing as love. Wanting to fix someone and take over their life didn’t equate to caring.
She tried to rearrange herself, to find a more comfortable position, but she was too uncomfortable, and so she flopped back as she’d been.
When the morning light broke through the window, Alex was awake, and looking far more like his normal self. Despite the fact he still wore the previous day’s clothes, he was fresh and vibrant and heart-stoppingly, unfairly beautiful.
“Good morning,” he spoke quietly, as though he feared she might yell at him. Except Alex wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all her.
Sophie smiled at him out of habit, and then immediately regretted it.
“How do you feel?”
Empty. Alone. Cold. “I’m fine.”
He held a plastic beaker of water out to her; Sophie took it and drank gratefully.
“The doctor will be in soon. Would you like breakfast? Coffee?”
Sophie shook her head.
“Tea?”
Her eyes lifted to his and she nodded. “Thanks.”
He left the room and her sense of aloneness intensified. When first she’d moved to London, she had thought it the most beautiful place on earth. She had immediately known she wouldn’t ever think of Casa Celli as home again. But now, after the last few months, Sophie craved the peace and solitude of the vineyards to lick her wounds and recover. She needed the company of her sisters and the familiarity of her youth.
At least, a part of her did.
Alex was back within moments, carrying a fine bone porcelain cup of tea. From where he’d procured it, she couldn’t have guessed. Presumably one of the nurses had decided the standard chipped mugs in the kitchen weren’t good enough for a man such as him.
“Thank you,” she murmured as he passed it over. Sophie held it in both hands, taking comfort from the warmth.
She sipped and he watched, his expression indecipherable.
Another doctor arrived shortly after she had finished drinking. He was tall and skinny, wiry like a rake, with fine hair that wisped over his brow. His eyes were intelligent and his face lined. Sophie warmed to him immediately.
“Good morning, Mrs Petrides. How are you today?”
“Fine, thanks.” It was an answer given by rote. The doctor disregarded it.
“Any pain? Discomfort?”
“Yes. Yes.” Her eyes lifted to Alex and he understood. She didn’t want him there. She was closing him out. But he needed to be with her. Didn’t she understand that? Didn’t she care?
“That’s to be expected.” He pulled back the bed sheet to reveal Sophie’s hospital gown clad body. “May I?”
She nodded, and the doctor began to move his hands over Sophie’s abdomen. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, ignoring Alex and wishing she was anywhere else.
“Excellent.” He returned the sheet and smiled, first at Sophie and then at Alex. “You’ll be discharged this morning. I’m writing you a script for pain relief. Don’t be a hero. It’s perfectly fine to take when recovering from something like this.” He handed the script to her and she held it folded in her fingertips. “You’ll need to take a few days to recover. I mean complete recovery. Lying on the sofa, watching those terrible Real Housewife programs my wife is obsessed with.”
She smiled despite her sen
se of oddness and grief.
“Mr Petrides, there’s paperwork at the front you can complete when you’re ready. If you need any nursing assistance, mention it to the clerk.”
“None will be necessary,” he said, his eyes not leaving Sophie’s face.
“Excellent. Good luck to you, Mrs Petrides.” He nodded at Alex and then disappeared.
Because Sophie knew Alex, she knew what he was planning, and she decided to be proactive from the get go. “You can help me get a cab. That would be great.”
“You will be coming home with me.”
“No, I won’t.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going to stay with you.”
His mouth was a grim line as he settled on the edge of the bed. “Aren’t you?” He reached forward and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“I can’t.” She unfolded her arms and fidgeted with her fingers. “Please just go, Alex. You don’t need to be here.”
“This is exactly where I need to be.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t go back to your house. I can’t ever step foot in it again. Surely you can see that it would be more harmful to me than anything else.”
“Fine,” he didn’t see any sense in arguing the point. “I’ll hire a hotel room. But I am going to take care of you. I feel responsible, Sophie. Please don’t deny me the opportunity to help you now.”
She thought about telling him that he could help by leaving her alone for good. That he could help by never going near her again. But a part of her, even then, was afraid he might do it if she asked often enough.
“Why?” She said instead. “Why can’t you just go?”
He lifted her hand and rubbed her empty ring finger. There was a very feint indent from where she’d worn the jewellery for a brief time.
“Because you are my wife.”
Her eyes swept shut at his words and her heart iced over. “A stupid joke,” she muttered angrily.
“No. A clever twist of fate.”
She shook her head.
“Do you know why I thought the worst of you Sophie? Why I believed you to have engaged in affairs with both Eric and the man from Sydney?”
“Because you’re suspicious, cynical and untrusting?”
His lip twisted in a half-smile. “No. Because I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you, half hidden beneath the sofa. I loved you. Your voice, your energy, you. And how could any man not feel as I did? How could any man not see you and want you, as I did, with a total, full-body response?”
Billionaire Brides: An Anthology Page 31
