She remained still, even if the room seemed to spin around her, the overwhelming thoughts in her head giving her an instant migraine. She took a good look at the man standing a few feet from her, with arms awkwardly falling to his sides, so different than his usual cocky, perfect posture. “Tell me,” she said, her voice above a whisper.
Tell me I haven’t been a complete idiot by falling for you.
Tell me there’s a chance for us.
She fought the urge to make an even bigger idiot of herself and declare her love for him. Giving him that responsibility to answer back wasn’t fair, especially since a strange energy oozed from him.
She swallowed hard. The area behind her knee seared, her feet stinging, the silent demand of her body to take a couple of steps to erase the distance between them and go to him.
No. If she moved toward him, she’d launch herself into his arms and forget everything. Now she needed to remember. More tears streamed down her face, and she didn’t bother to wipe them off.
“Goodbye, Emma.”
She sobbed. “You can’t mean that. Isn’t anything we lived in the past weeks different than what you usually do?”
“Yes. It was very different. It’s just, I’m not different. Sorry.”
Raw pain clawed its way down her throat and squeezed her heart until it skipped a beat. She clapped her hand to her mouth to keep from saying anything she’d regret later. After all, they’d done it. He’d done it.
Finally, she wiped the tears with the back of her hand and sniffed. Pull yourself together, Emma. He could give himself to someone if he wanted to, her gut told her so. It’s just not me. “I’ve spent this entire month trying to change into someone else to win Simon back. I can’t change again for another man.” He was right…they were different. She took a long breath, gave him a glance that lingered into a gaze, before gathering her strength to say, “Goodbye, Nico.”
…
A week later…
Nico grabbed a bottle of water, then shut the refrigerator door a bit more harshly than necessary. He’d taken the day off to go to Zaine’s wedding, and staying home had driven him nuts. Which had been why he’d gone for a run, and now he needed a quick shower and shave. As best man, he couldn’t be late.
He took off his tennis shoes and socks. The previous night, he’d thrown Zaine a bachelor party. His brother Marco had flown in for the wedding. He’d had a hard time pretending to have fun in front of the most important people in his life. Well, all but one.
An invisible knife pierced through his heart. He’d let her go.
What else could he have done? Pretended he deserved her and then strung her along until they both realized it’d been a mistake? He’d break her heart. Her sweet, generous heart.
Sighing, he began shaving. Each time the blade cut the hair from his chin and cheeks, his fingers trembled. Nico took a deep breath and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He’d been through hell the past week. He’d worked, exercised, and barely slept. For two nights he’d gone to a hotel room, telling himself it’d been because it was closer to work for early meetings. Deep down, the idea of spending time in his house scared him.
After she’d been there, his place wasn’t the same. He looked at the bathroom and remembered her bathing in it, or to his bed and how she’d taken charge that last time they’d screwed. Made love.
I’m pathetic.
The doorbell rang, and he wiped the shaving cream off his face then jetted out of his bedroom. Who could it be? He’d talked to Marco earlier on the phone. In fact, he and his brother were closer than ever. He told him about Desmorais and his findings, and Marco had hugged him, assuring him he couldn’t care less about them not sharing the same father.
He opened the door to find Angele Desmorais at his doorstep. Wearing a beige linen outfit of sleeved shirt and pants, he couldn’t be more out of place. What was he doing there?
Desmorais leaned forward. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “Come in.”
Desmorais entered his place, in a quiet appraisal of his foyer, then his spacious living area. “Nice house.”
“I doubt you came over to talk about interior design,” Nico said, gesturing for him to sit. Desmorais did not, and neither did Nico.
A strange emotion engulfed him, and he stood in the middle of his living area, staring at the man who’d changed his life, in a sense. After all, he no longer wanted to play the game to persuade him to buy the house.
“You.” Desmorais glanced at the hardwood floor, then continued. “The last time we met was a bit hectic, and I’ve been thinking… I didn’t know your father, Calogero, had been a jerk to you. I mean, I was too busy staying away, but if I had known he’d been such a bastard, I’d have searched for you.”
Nico popped his knuckles. He’d come all the way from Mauritius just to have this talk? His gut clenched. What did Desmorais want from him? “It’s a little late.”
Desmorais gave him a slow nod, his eyes flickering with hope. “Perhaps too late for a perfect relationship, one where we, father and son, have known each other since birth. You’re right.”
Nico crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I’d like to have an imperfect relationship with you. Where I screwed up, and you give me a chance for a new beginning. I’ll come to this side of the world more often. We go out to eat, play golf, whatever you want to do. I’d like for you to meet your half-sister one day…when you’re ready. She doesn’t know about you, but I’m sure Eloise will welcome you into our little family.”
Nico’s heart raced, but a part of him clung to the skepticism he’d known for so long. “Why would you go to all this trouble?”
“Because you’re my son, and I’ve wasted too much time already.” Desmorais reached for his pocket and produced a crystal. Not just any crystal—the blue one he’d given to his mother as a gift.
He offered it to Nico, who took it in his hand. The crystal sparkled, and gratitude welled up inside him. Maybe the goal to sell the house in Mauritius had a purpose much different than he’d intended. It hadn’t brought his mother back, or his childhood, but his father—and a new chance at their relationship. “How did you get this?”
“I broke my word and visited your mother once in Italy. She showed me a picture of you and gave me that crystal—said you’d picked it out for her, and wanted me to have something from you.”
Nico caressed the quartz. Emma’s words about how he hid from meaningful relationships to keep from getting hurt rang in his ears, and his heart tattooed against his rib cage. “I guess we can give an imperfect relationship a go.”
Desmorais walked up to him and gave him a hug. Nico tensed at first, but then allowed himself to relax, and tapped Desmorais’s back. If Desmorais wanted a real, heartfelt hug, he needed to give Nico more time. This, though, was a step in the right direction.
Desmorais smiled. “Thank you. I won’t take you for granted. Where’s Emma?” he asked, looking around as if she’d pop out of a room.
Nico coughed. Where to start? He’d let her be with the guy she initially wanted, and she hadn’t proved him wrong. When he’d seen Simon at the bachelor party, he almost throat punched him. It’d been his doing, but her silence proved he’d made the right decision. “It’s complicated.”
Desmorais frowned. “You know, she told me she couldn’t work on the sanctuary project anymore. Didn’t feel right for her to be part of it when she knew how much you wanted the house.”
A shivering awareness bolted through Nico’s body. “What? When did she say that?”
Desmorais lifted his hands, indicating that he probably didn’t know the exact date. “Weeks ago.”
“She never told me,” he said, his voice losing energy at the end. His pulse skittered, his heart clenching. Dio…she gave up working for a cause she loved, a project he knew would also pay her ridiculously well, simply for principle. For him.
“I hope you didn’t brea
k her heart. That’d be really stupid.”
Nico waved him off. “I agreed to let you into my life less than a minute ago, and you’re already giving me unrequested relationship advice?” The weight on his heart heaved, but he didn’t know what else to do. Going out and seeing other people had never even crossed his mind. No woman held a candle to Emma Cavanaugh, and he knew it now more than ever.
A smile formed on Desmorais’s face. “We have to make up for lost time, non? What about Emma?”
Emma. He rubbed his chest, eager to rid the burning assailing him every time he thought about her. He sat on his sofa, shoulders dropping a notch, and a defeated sigh fled from his lips. Desmorais lifted an eyebrow, regarding him with interest. “She deserves better. She…wants the whole picket fence thing and I don’t want to fail her.”
“Do you love her?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “But there’s this other guy,” he said, frustration lumping his throat. He’d always considered Simon a loser, but now the tables had turned. He’d been the one who’d won Emma. And he, Nico, became the biggest loser of them all.
Desmorais sat next to him and squeezed his shoulder. “I let your mother go and marry someone who was the safe choice for her. I didn’t fight for her, for us, and I regret it every day. She tried her damndest, but I made the wrong choice in not choosing her.”
Nico gave him a sideways glance. “Do you think if you two had gotten married you’d still be together?”
The lines in Desmorais’s face softened. “I like to believe I would have had more time with your mother, yes. Before she got really sick. I’ve always been rebellious, even in matters of the heart. Never too honest, because it was more convenient to lie. Don’t be like me.”
A cold sensation traveled down Nico’s body, settling in his gut. He surged to his feet, restless. Did he want to become Desmorais and wonder for the rest of his life what could have been? He didn’t want more time with Emma, he wanted…forever. The word clogged his throat. The image of Emma’s sweet face popped into his mind, and his heart did a backflip. A silent but powerful reminder that during the entire time, he’d wanted to buy back a house to recuperate a sense of self. Happiness. When the woman who made him happy had supported him all along. Even when I didn’t deserve it. “What if it’s too late?”
“I came across the world to talk to you. Why can’t you go across town to find out?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Honestly, how do I look?” Monique, Zaine’s bride, asked.
She stood in front of a full-length mirror, wearing a golden gown that complemented her curvy body. She’d chosen not to wear white, but the complete look still managed to emanate softness and bridal glow. Or pregnancy glow. Monique touched her belly. “I’m enormous.”
Emma shook her head. If only she had Monique’s generous rack and striking green eyes. She glanced at the mirror, and then, instead of fixing on Monique, she regarded herself. Nah, she was happy with how she looked. Maybe not model material, but she wanted to be herself more than ever. “You’re stunning, Monique.”
“Thanks, but as a best friend and bridesmaid, I can’t trust you.”
Emma nudged her elbow. “Hey, you still asked for it. Must be good for something.”
“I’m glad to see you more upbeat,” Monique said, turning away from the mirror and facing her. Unable to keep it all to herself, she’d told Monique about her affair with Nico a few days prior. Her sister-in-law-to-be knew her too well to be fooled. Besides, her puffy eyes and irritable mood had given her away when they’d met for coffee.
“Yes. Of course,” Emma said, slapping on a smile. Today wasn’t about her, so she couldn’t just show up in her sweatpants and devour a pint of Häagen-Dazs like she’d done daily since Nico broke her heart.
The other bridesmaids joined them—her sister Megan and a couple of Monique’s friends, and soon the chatter started. Emma slipped on her sleeveless golden dress and went through the motions. She forced herself to pretend to be part of the conversation with the occasional nods and a few hmmms, but she couldn’t wait to go back to the safety of her apartment and away from all this jealousy-inducing happiness.
Heartbreak made her extra petty. Who knew?
Maybe that’s why Nico’s ex had pursued a settlement from him. He had that effect on women. Bastard.
Later, the limo arrived at the posh Beverly Hills hotel where they’d been getting all kinds of spa treatments and took them to church. Emma had been a dutiful bridesmaid during the festivities all week, and now she had to stay the course. She’d gone to the rehearsal dinner and managed to leave early, telling people she didn’t feel well and wanted to make sure she rested for the big day. Thankfully, she’d told Monique up front that she wanted to leave before Nico arrived. Good soul that she was, Monique completely understood.
She’d made up for it by being the first one at the hotel the next morning and helping with pretty much everything. Not to mention, she’d spent time translating for Monique’s lovely mother and brothers who didn’t speak much English.
Now she joined the wedding party, each bridesmaid lining up with a groomsman to enter the church. She stood next to Zaine’s old college roommate, Craig. When Nico joined them, he stood behind her, next to Monique’s friend Erin.
Emma could feel his presence, hints of his manly scent making their way to her. Although she didn’t toss him a glance over her shoulder, she knew he gazed at her. Thankfully, the wedding planner decided to take pictures after the church ceremony. She’d have to deal with Nico a lot, but after tonight she wouldn’t need to see him ever again.
The idea broke sweat on her palms.
“Are you okay?” asked Craig, leaning in.
She nodded violently, desperate to portray a measure of self-control.
I’m a mess. As long as people didn’t notice, she’d be okay. She portrayed the best modern version of a Stepford wife during the ceremony, with a robotic, straight posture, slapping on a smile whenever the other bridesmaids did. A couple of times, the crowd cheered the couple and clapped.
She moved her head slightly to find her sweet mother wiping a little tear from the corner of her eye. Her chest filled with gratitude for a moment—Zaine had found someone to love. Damn it, he deserved it. Monique was the perfect match for him.
And Nico is for me. She snorted at the idea, a bit loudly, for the bridesmaid next to her nudged her elbow, and when she glanced at her, Erin tossed her a warning look.
Emma squared her shoulders and clasped the small floral arrangement in her hand. Keep it together. During the rest of the ceremony, she darted her gaze everywhere but in Nico’s direction. If she gawked at him, she’d lose the little control she had to show.
She sighed with relief when Zaine kissed Monique, and the crowd whistled and applauded. The time to gracefully leave the altar came, and she once again focused on the small bouquet she carried.
“Emma, do you need a ride?” Simon asked, striding up to her as people discussed driving to the reception venue.
Zaine had chosen the church because it’d meant a lot to their mother, since she and their father had gotten married in that church. The reception venue was in a gorgeous hilltop house they’d rented for the event.
Emma glanced at Simon. He gave her a shy smile, unsure maybe. A light tan still stained his nose and cheeks, a result of the wonderful work he’d done with needy children abroad. “Sure.”
She could have gone with the rest of the wedding party as planned—the wedding planner had rented luxurious vehicles to drive them. But she owed it to Simon. Besides an awkward phone call, where she’d declined attending the wedding as his date, they hadn’t really talked. Certainly not in person.
“I haven’t seen much of you, Emma,” he said, after he started the engine.
She secured her safety belt, her hand sliding up and down the belt. “Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
He nodded, eyes on the road.
Her stomach curled. Whoa. A mon
th ago, being with Simon was all she could think about. All she’d needed. Now she glanced at him and didn’t feel anything.
“You know, I understand you need time. I made a huge mistake when I let you go,” he said, and she noticed he clutched the steering wheel.
She looked out the window and considered throwing herself from the moving car. How awkward. She sucked in some air and faced him again. No running, Emma. “You were right, Simon, to break up with me because we didn’t have strong sexual chemistry.”
Simon shook his head. “No. I should have insisted on working things out with you. Time apart made me realize I’m at fault, too.”
Crap. If he had been a complete asshole, this’d be so much easier.
She rested her hands on her lap, threading her fingers together. “I met someone,” she blurted out.
She peered at him, ready for whatever might come her way. A ball of apprehension formed in her throat, rolling down her body until it turned into an acidy sensation in her core. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I actually went to him for help to get you back, but somehow I fell for him.”
Simon shuddered, color disappearing from his face. “Wow. I had no idea.”
Emma tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, nervous. “I…”
He opened his mouth, then hesitated and focused on driving.
She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Should she apologize again? She didn’t mean to hurt Simon, but she wasn’t sorry for having been with Nico. When they entered the lavish place, he ignored the valet service at the front and parked the car.
He turned off the engine and stared at her. A flicker of pain hit his baby blues, and she clamped her lips. She removed her seat belt, but didn’t move or reach for the door. If he had something else to say, he had to take the first step.
He touched her face. “I’m sorry. I love you, Emma. You’re amazing, and if I had done a good job I wouldn’t have lost you.”
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