Deserving of His Diamonds?

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  No, there was more to it than that, she realised with a sickening jolt.

  He didn’t love her.

  He had never loved her. He was never going to love her.

  ‘What about the press?’ she asked, clutching at whatever straws she could. ‘Won’t they make a fuss about … about everything ending like this?’

  He gave a careless shrug. ‘I’ll release a statement saying things didn’t work out between us,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure they leave you alone. I’ll get Luigi to take you to the airport.’

  ‘So …’ She moistened her lips again, trying her best to appear as casual as he was being about it all. ‘So, I guess this is goodbye.’ Oh, how it hurt to say the word! Please let this not be goodbye, she thought. Don’t send me away. Not again. Not like this.

  The shutter was still down over his face, every muscle locked down now. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘This is goodbye.’

  She gave a little nod of assent. What else could she do? She had told him she wanted to go. He had virtually commanded her to leave. He had his driver waiting on call. Her bags would be packed within minutes. What was she waiting for? She hadn’t wanted to come in the first place. She was only here under sufferance.

  Why, then, when she left him standing there, did it feel as if her world had shattered into a thousand pieces all over again?

  Three weeks later …

  Gisele was hanging some new stock in her shop when Hilary, her mother, came in. Hilary had only been to her shop a couple of times, barely staying long enough to look around. It was the first time Gisele had seen her mother since she had come back from Italy. She had spoken once or twice on the phone to her but the conversation had felt stilted and awkward.

  ‘The shop looks lovely,’ Hilary said.

  ‘Thank you.’

  There was a little silence.

  ‘You look very thin, Gisele,’ Hilary said. ‘Are you sure this new expansion’s not too much to handle? It’s a lot to take on.’

  ‘I can handle it,’ Gisele said, hanging another baby jacket on the rack.

  Hilary let out a little sigh as she picked up a jacket with a row of baby rabbits stitched around the bottom. ‘I know you’re still upset and angry,’ she said. ‘I don’t blame you. What your father did was wrong.’

  Gisele turned and looked at her. ‘What you both did was wrong. You told just as many lies as he did. You lived a lie.’

  Hilary’s eyes suddenly filled with tears as she held the baby jacket against her chest. ‘I know, and every day of it I was terrified the truth would come out,’ she said. ‘I wanted you to know the truth right from when you were little but your father wouldn’t hear of it. I didn’t trust Nell Baker. I lived in dread that she would turn up and insist on having you back. I guess that’s why I was always so distant and stiff with you. I was never sure if I was going to have you snatched out of my arms.’

  Gisele had never seen her mother shed tears before. Not a single one. Hilary had always been so stiff upper lip about everything, so stoic, so in control, so emotionally detached. ‘I never felt like you really loved me,’ Gisele said. ‘I never felt like I was good enough for you.’

  ‘Oh, my darling,’ Hilary said. ‘I loved you so much. I loved all of my babies.’

  Gisele frowned. ‘Babies? What babies?’

  Hilary fondled the tiny jacket in her hands. ‘I had four miscarriages in the first couple of years of our marriage. I felt such a failure. Each time my hopes would soar and then it would all be over. I tried so hard not to get attached but I loved each one so very much.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Gisele gasped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me when I lost Lily?’

  Hilary’s lower lip trembled. ‘I lost my babies when they were just a few weeks along. You lost a full-term baby. How could I tell you I understood a fraction of what you were going through? I felt ashamed of not being able to be a proper mother. At least you were a mother, even if it was only for a few hours.’

  ‘You are a proper mother,’ Gisele said, with tears rolling down her face. ‘You’re the only mother I’ve got and I love you.’

  Hilary’s arms gathered her close. ‘I love you too, my precious daughter. I love you too.’

  Emilio pushed the computer mouse away in frustration and got stiffly to his feet. He stared sightlessly out of his office window. Almost a month had passed since Gisele had left and he still couldn’t focus on work or indeed anything. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept more than a couple of hours. He had forgotten the last time he had eaten a full meal. He moved through each day like an automaton.

  His life felt empty.

  He felt empty.

  Even the weather had joined him in his misery. The promising start to spring had been replaced with a capricious sun that had stayed behind brooding clouds for days and days. The drizzle of intermittent rain was a poignant reminder of the aching sadness he felt deep in his soul.

  He hadn’t cried since he was six years old, when a particularly unfeeling foster carer had told him his mother was never going to come back. He had thought his tear ducts would have dried up from lack of use. But no, they were working all right. He only had to look at the photos of his little daughter for the tears to fall.

  He had wanted to do the right thing by Gisele. Seeing how distressed she was about the thought of having another child with him had made freeing her his only option. It had been the right and most honourable thing to do. But it hurt so damn much! Was this wrenching pain never going to go away?

  He had received an email from her with a polite thank you for the help with the expansion of her business. He had stared at the typed words, looking for a clue between the lines, but there had been nothing. But then what else had he expected? If she had loved him, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave him. But she had gone as soon as she had been given the chance.

  His secretary, Carla, came in with his afternoon coffee. He didn’t even bother turning from the window. She brought it in every afternoon, even though he never touched it. It would sit on the desk, forming a skin over the top as it went cold. ‘Leave it on the desk,’ he said tonelessly.

  ‘There’s a parcel for you,’ Carla said. ‘It came by registered mail. It’s marked private.’

  Emilio turned and looked at the package she had placed on his desk next to the cup of coffee. ‘Who’s it from?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s from Signorina Carter,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to open it?’

  Emilio felt a fist tighten over his heart. ‘No,’ he said, raking an unsteady hand through the thickness of his hair. ‘That will be all, Carla. You can have the rest of the day off.’

  ‘But what about the Venturi Project?’ she asked, frowning at him. ‘Don’t you have a deadline on that?’ Emilio gave a negligent shrug. ‘It’ll get done when it gets done. If they’re not happy with that, tell them to get someone else.’

  Carla’s finely groomed brows rose. ‘Sì, signor,’ she said and left with a soft click of the door.

  Emilio traced a finger over Gisele’s neat handwriting where she had printed his name on the package. It was probably the jewellery he had given her. He’d been expecting her to send it back. He was surprised she hadn’t left it behind the day she had left. He could imagine she wouldn’t want any physical reminders of their relationship.

  The package was securely wrapped with packing tape. He worked at it methodically. He could have used the silver blade of his letter opener but this time he preferred to do it by hand. He wanted to touch where her hands had touched. It was ridiculously sentimental of him, but that just about summed him up these days. He peeled back the tape and opened the cardboard box where a tissue-wrapped parcel lay nestled safely in a bed of Styrofoam cushioning.

  His hands shook uncontrollably as he peeled away the tissue wrap to find the pink hand-embroidered blanket his tiny daughter had spent her short life wrapped in. Emotion burned like fire at the back of his throat as he cradled it gently in his
hands. He felt as if he were holding his own heart.

  There was a single sheet of paper in the box, neatly folded over. He took it out and opened it to read:

  You said I would know when I’m finally ready to say goodbye. You were right. Gisele.

  Emilio felt a juggernaut of emotion assail him. He hadn’t been there at the beginning of their daughter’s short life or at the end, but he was to be with her for ever more. Gisele had given him that privilege. How much had it cost her to do so? She had sent him her heart.

  A lightning bolt of realisation hit him.

  She had sent him her heart.

  Mio Dio, what had he done? He had sent her away when all he had ever wanted was to have her close. Why hadn’t he told her how he felt? Would it have hurt to have at least said the words? Even if she had still left, it would have been better for him to tell her he loved her. She deserved to know she was the only woman he had ever loved, could ever love.

  He had been a coward. A pathetic coward, not man enough to own his need for her. Too frightened to feel like that little abandoned boy he had once been, he had kept his feelings locked away. He hadn’t even admitted them to himself, let alone to her.

  How could he have been so stupid?

  So stubborn?

  So blind?

  He pressed the intercom on his desk. ‘Carla? Are you still there?’ he asked.

  ‘Sì, signor,’ his secretary said. ‘I was just tidying my desk.’

  ‘Get me a flight to Sydney,’ he said. ‘I don’t care how much it costs. You can even hire a private jet. Buy one if you have to.’

  ‘Urgent business again, Signor Andreoni?’ Carla asked.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘This is personal.’ This is my life. This is my love. This is my everything.

  Emilio saw the ‘Closed’ sign on Gisele’s shop as the taxi drew up outside. His heart slipped like a Bentley on black ice. But then he realised it was only seven-thirty in the morning. In his haste to get here he’d forgotten the time difference. He kicked himself for not having phoned first. But he had wanted to see her face to face. He ached to see her face to face.

  He directed the driver to Gisele’s home address and waited with a thudding pulse for the journey to be over. He mentally rehearsed his speech. He had been awake for the entire flight, thinking about what he would say, but in the end he knew he really only had three words to say to her: I love you.

  The taxi turned the corner into her street and Emilio’s stomach nosedived when he saw the ‘Sold’ sign on her flat.

  He stumbled out of the taxi, issuing a brusque order over his shoulder for the driver to wait.

  There was no answer when he pressed the doorbell. He peered through gaps in the drawn blinds but there was no sign of her being inside.

  ‘Can I help you?’ an older female voice asked.

  Emilio swung around to see an elderly lady with a walking frame standing by the letterboxes. ‘I’m looking for Gisele Carter,’ he said. ‘Do you know where she is?’

  ‘She left a little while ago,’ the old lady said.

  Panic gripped Emilio by the throat. ‘Left?’

  ‘Yes, she’s taking a holiday before she moves to her new home,’ she said. ‘She’s meeting her mother and her sister in Queensland. A tropical island, I think she said. I can’t remember the name of it now.’

  Emilio mentally groaned. How many tropical islands were there in Queensland? Hundreds. How on earth was he going to track her down? ‘When did she leave?’ he asked.

  ‘You just missed her,’ the old lady said. ‘She only left half an hour or so ago.’

  ‘Do you know what airline she was booked on?’ Emilio asked as he walked quickly backwards to the waiting taxi. ‘It’s really important. I need to see her. I’m going to tell her I love her. I’m going to ask her to marry me.’

  The old lady smiled as she told him the carrier’s name. ‘I think I remember now the island,’ she said. ‘Hamilton Island—yes, that’s the one.’

  Emilio rushed to the gate lounge after he had cleared Security but it was empty. The illuminated board said the flight was closed.

  He was too late.

  He scraped a hand through his hair and stumbled to the window overlooking the tarmac. The plane was backing out, preparing its journey down the runway, its lights along the wings flashing in preparation.

  A choked-up feeling seized his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He planted his hands on the glass in front of him for support.

  He was too late.

  He rested his head on the window. He knew this feeling. It was the same feeling he had on that step. He remembered all too well the feeling of being abandoned, of having no one to turn to, of not knowing what was going to happen next. The uncertainty, the bleakness, the loneliness, the aching emptiness …

  ‘Emilio?’

  The skin on the back of his neck prickled. He was imagining it, just like he had imagined his mother’s voice, reaching out to him in the dark while he had been sitting on that cold stone step for all of those long, lonely, terrifying hours.

  He slowly turned and saw Gisele standing in front of him. She looked pale, wraithlike, just like a ghost. Was his mind playing tricks on him? It must be. He blinked a couple of times but she didn’t disappear. ‘You sold your flat.’ What an inane thing to say, he chided himself.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I felt it was time to move on.’

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot. ‘I thought you were on that flight.’ Even more banal. Why couldn’t he just say what he wanted to say?

  ‘My flight isn’t for another forty minutes,’ she said. ‘I’m going to Heron Island. Mum and I are meeting Sienna there. Mum thought it might be a good chance for us all to get to know each other. It leaves from the other gate down there.’ She pointed farther down the concourse.

  ‘Oh … I thought you were going to Hamilton Island,’ he said. ‘Your neighbour said … The board said the flight was closed … I saw it leaving.’ He stopped because he was rambling like a tongue-tied lovesick fool.

  Gisele rolled her lips together, looking just like a shy, uncertain schoolgirl. ‘I was coming back from the rest-room and saw you standing here,’ she said. ‘I thought I must be imagining things. Why are you here?’

  ‘I wanted to see you,’ Emilio said. ‘I wanted to thank you for … for giving me our daughter’s blanket.’

  A shadow passed over her face before she lowered her gaze. ‘She was made in Italy,’ she said in a tiny whisper-soft voice. ‘I thought it was appropriate that a part of her rested there too.’

  Emilio felt his emotions rise like a flash flood within him. He had no control over it. His chest ached with the pressure. It was building to a crescendo. He felt every tidemark. They were etched indelibly on his soul. He brushed away the tears that were falling with the back of his hand. ‘What if you still need to hold her sometimes?’ he asked.

  Her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably. ‘It’s your turn to hold her.’

  ‘She needs both of us to hold her,’ he said, gulping back a ragged sob. ‘No one can take your place. No one can ever take your place. She loves you. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please come home, cara. Come back to me. Come back to us.’

  She paused for an infinitesimal moment before she stumbled towards him, a flurry of arms and emotions that he welcomed with every cell of his being. He had never felt so close to another human being. Her arms wrapped around his waist, but he felt them around his heart. ‘Il mio prezioso,’ he said. ‘My precious one. I thought I had lost you for ever.’

  Gisele clutched at him, terrified he would suddenly vaporise, that she would open her eyes and find this was all a dream. Had he really said those wonderful, amazing words? She looked up at him with tears streaming from her eyes. ‘Do you really love me?’ she asked. ‘You’re not just saying it?’

  He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his thudding heart. ‘I love you, tesore mio,’ he said. ‘My life is meaningless without you. I can’t
imagine how I will cope if you don’t say you will marry me. You will, won’t you? Marry me, I mean?’

  She smiled at him with immeasurable joy. ‘Of course I will marry you,’ she said. ‘I can’t think of anything I want more. I love you.’

  He crushed her to him again, holding her tightly, as if he never wanted to let her go. ‘You are everything to me, cara,’ he said. ‘I am ashamed of how long it has taken me to realise how much you mean to me. How can you ever forgive me for taking so long to come to my senses? How can you ever forgive me for how I misjudged you, which started this crazy affair in the first place?’

  ‘Don’t torture yourself any more,’ she said. ‘We were both victims of circumstances beyond our control.’

  Emilio held her from him so he could look into her eyes. ‘I was such a fool. I can’t believe I got it so wrong. If only I had stopped and thought about who you were as a person, your values, the strength of character you had demonstrated so many times. I ignored all of that. And then, to add insult to injury, I practically forced you back in my life. I wanted to wipe the slate clean but you taught me that it’s not always possible. The hurts and blows and mistakes of life are things you sometimes have to carry with you. You can’t erase all of them. Those are the very things that make us who we are.’

  Gisele stroked his lean cheek with her hand. ‘I love who you are,’ she said. ‘I love everything about you.’

  He rested his forehead on hers. ‘Cara, I want you to know that if you can’t bear the thought of having another baby, then that is fine. God knows I’ve got enough on my hands with all the street kids I’m taking in. Daniela has brought in some of her friends. Having you will be enough. More than enough.’

  Gisele blinked back fresh tears. ‘For all this time I could never imagine going through a pregnancy again,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of going through that terrible loss again. But this time you’ll be by my side. I think I could handle just about anything with you standing beside me.’