Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Four years earlier
“O H GOD, OH GOD,” she murmured over and over, waiting for the lift to reach the floor of the hospital, her body in agony just imagining the state he would be in. The picture on the news had shown only a mangled car – that sleek, black sports car with the beige interior. Beautiful and fast, and now, crumpled like a tin can, after a petrol tanker had crossed to the wrong side of the M1 and collected Xavier in its path.
How he’d even survived was beyond Ellie.
But he had.
And he was going to be just fine, she told herself, ignoring the pessimistic tone of the newsreader’s report.
Billionaire CEO and heir to the Salbatore Industries fortune, Xavier Salbatore was involved in a high-speed, head-on collision earlier today. The driver of a petrol tanker lost control of his vehicle and careened into oncoming traffic. The truck driver died at the scene and Mr Salbatore is in hospital in a critical condition that some have reported as worsening. We’ll have more through the night.
Ellie didn’t want to think about the word ‘worsening’.
She wanted only to focus on Xavier. He’d left London early in the morning, just as the sun had lifted, coating the city in glitter and warmth. Or perhaps that was just the way it felt to Elizabeth, who had been swept up in Xavier’s unique brand of magic and would never be the same again.
How was it possible that forty-something hours could wreak such havoc? How was it possible that she could have become a different person altogether to the woman she had once been?
Xavier.
He’d reached inside her and fundamentally changed who she was.
And now, he needed her.
She stepped off the lift, the bright electric lights of the ward making her squint a little.
The car had crashed early that morning, and it was now almost midnight. She hadn’t seen the bulletin until ten o’clock, when she’d been ready for bed.
And she’d been waiting for him to call or text, or something – while his body was weakening, leaking life from wounds that she could only imagine. She gasped, pushing the thoughts from her mind.
She was here now, and she wasn’t going anywhere again.
“Xavier Salbatore,” she said breathlessly, when she approached the counter. “Which room is he in?”
The nurse, a short and squat woman with bright blonde hair, ran an acrylic fingertip across a piece of paper then looked up, her sea-green eyes pinning Ellie with sympathy. “It’s outside visiting hours, miss.”
“Oh, I know. I just heard. How is he?”
The nurse grimaced. “Are you family?”
“A very close friend,” Ellie said, with a meaningful look, her heart twisting with pain at how impossible it was to define what they were. They’d known each other such a short space of time and yet Ellie couldn’t imagine her life without Xavier in it.
“You can’t see him til morning, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, no,” Ellie shook her head, instantly rejecting the idea of having to wait even longer. “I have to see him. Please, please. Just quickly.”
She needed to tell him he was going to be okay. She had to at least tell him she was there for him. She’d heard, somewhere along the way, that people in comas were cognizant of their surroundings. So? Whatever state he was in, she would let him know she was by his side.
“I’m sorry, miss. On any other ward, I’d sneak you in, but this is ICU and Mr Salbatore isn’t in a good way.”
“Oh, God.” Ellie gripped the counter for strength, panic fluttering inside her.
“I’m sorry.”
But what could Ellie say? The woman was just doing her job; Ellie had to respect that. “Is there somewhere I can sit?”
“Until morning?” The nurse asked, her expression one of surprise.
“Until Christmas, if necessary,” Ellie said, her face pale, her eyes huge.
The nurse stood, a look of consternation on her face. “I’m a soft touch,” she grumbled, more to herself than Ellie. “If anyone asks, you found him yerself. Got it?”
Ellie held her breath, walking behind the nurse and her rounded bottom as she led Ellie down the brightly lit corridor. She stopped outside a door – there was a glass panel beside it but Ellie didn’t look in. For a few moments longer, she needed to brace herself. The nurse pushed the door inwards.
“Here. There’s a comfortable chair in the corner. I’ll bring you a tea, shall I?”
Ellie could have wept with gratitude, but a moment later, her eyes landed on Xavier, and it was all she could do to stop buckling to her knees.
The man who had overtaken her life with his virility and strength was lying on the bed, wrapped in bandages, with cables and cords protruding from his limbs, his head bandaged, his eyes swept shut. But even then, she could see how bruised he was. How broken. Strength had bent to weakness, virility to decline.
“What’s happened?” She crossed the distance to his bedside and reached for him, needing to touch some part of him, so that he would know she was there. Needing to feel his beautiful heart beating, his heart pumping blood through his warm, capable body. She sobbed softly.
There was nowhere to touch that wasn’t impeded by cords, cables and bandages. She reached backwards for the chair, pulling it closer to the bed.
And she sank into it with a sense of utter desolation.
The nurse brought a tea at some point, and Ellie drank it, but she didn’t move. She didn’t sleep. She watched Xavier, telling herself it was a good thing that his chest was rising and falling. Telling herself he would be fine – she would make sure of it. Whatever happened, she would move heaven and earth to help him back to strength and wellness.
If it was possible.
And if it weren’t, she’d be with him regardless. If he couldn’t see, she’d be his eyes. If he couldn’t walk, she’d be his legs. Whatever he needed, she would offer.
Unless all hope was lost.
She sobbed again, the possibility that he would die one she refused to acknowledge.
Doctors came throughout the night, and nurses too, checking on him. She didn’t ask questions, and explanations weren’t offered. But the grim expressions on their faces spoke volumes.
Morning broke. There was a small window, high up in his room, and the light gradually shifted.
Eleanor stood, stretching, and for the first time all night, contemplated leaving him. Just for a moment. There were restrooms at the entrance to the ward and she was in dire need of freshening up.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t you go anywhere,” she murmured. And for one second, she thought she saw something. It was impossible to quantify, impossible to explain, but the parts of his face that were visible beneath his bandages shifted, almost as though he recognized her voice.
“Did you hear me?” She asked, moving back to the bed, putting a hand on the small part of his chest that was exposed.
Nothing. No response. With a heavy sigh, she slipped out of the room and made her way to the facilities.
The same nurse was on duty, but her hair was up now. “You’re still here?” The nurse asked.
Ellie nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“The rest of the family’s just arrived,” the nurse said. “And the doctor’ll be along to explain things to them soon.”
Xavier’s family was here? Her heart ratcheted up a notch. How could she explain her being there to them?
“His family,” she murmured.
The nurse’s expression flashed with a look that was close to sympathetic. “His parents and his fiancé.” The nurse looked down at her paper, giving Ellie a moment to absorb this information in relative privacy.
“His…” Everything shook, like the earth beneath her was rumbling. She dug her feet into the floor but her body was like a feather in the breeze.
“Yes. His fiancé,” the nurse said gently. “I presume you know her?”
For the second time in twenty four hours, Ellie gripped the counter top, her expression deathly white. “I…”
The nurse stood, alarm on her features. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”
Ellie shook her head and straightened. There had to be some mistake. Xavier wasn’t engaged. He couldn’t be!
“No. I’m…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. She wasn’t fine. She was so far from it.
Her legs were wobbling but she forced them into action, walking down the hallway, towards the room she’d been in all night. She didn’t go in though. She stood outside the window, staring in, her heart racing and then abruptly coming to a stop at the sight before her.
Two parents. A mother. A father – so like Xavier! And a woman. A beautiful woman who was everything Ellie wasn’t. Curvaceous and blonde, and so very expensive, dripping in designer clothes and jewels. She had a hand on Xavier’s chest, just as Ellie’s had been, a moment earlier, and the most enormous diamond ring sparkled in the bright light of his room.
There was only one thing the two women had in common: their hearts were breaking.
The other woman – Xavier’s fiancé – sobbed over his broken body, just as Ellie had.
Ellie gasped, she couldn’t help it, and the nurse was there, an arm around her shoulders, comforting.
“You didn’t know?”
Ellie sucked in a breath; it hardly reached her lungs. “It can’t be true.”
But the ring, the woman’s inclusion with his family. Even as she uttered the denial, she knew she was wrong. This woman was engaged to marry Xavier.
“Come on, dear. Come and have a seat out here.”
Ellie nodded, completely numb, in absolute shock. And a primal need to stay with Xavier tore through her. She didn’t care about these other people! She, Elizabeth Jones, was the one who would make him better! She was who he needed at his bedside!
Only it wasn’t. His parents and fiancé were with him now. His family. She moved down the corridor, her life seeming like shards of glass, broken and sharp, too difficult to contemplate.
“Excuse me, miss?”
The voice from behind was husky and accented. Elizabeth spun around to see Xavier’s mother, her face lined, the worry there obvious.
The nurse stayed by Ellie’s side for a moment, but then the ringing of the phone at the nurses’ station had her moving swiftly away, only a concerned look over her shoulder a sign that she had wished to remain.
Ellie couldn’t speak. Words seemed clogged in her throat. A moment later, Xavier’s father joined the mother. They were so handsome; a perfect, intimidating pair.
“You were looking at our son just now,” the mother said, a tight smile on her face. “Do you know him?”
Ellie began to shake all over, her face unknowingly haunted, her eyes huge.
The parents shared a look. “You do know him, don’t you?”
His mother’s lips were a grim line in her face, and though she hadn’t seen Xavier look worried or cross at all over the weekend, she imagined he might look exactly like this if he were.
“Yes.” Ellie whispered. She took a step backwards, panic rising inside of her. They knew – they understood what Xavier meant to her. No words were necessary to confirm their suspicions.
“You saw the woman we are with,” the father spoke now, taking a step towards Ellie, but his look was one of sympathy. Urgency, too, but sorrow for Ellie and how she must be feeling.
“Arabella and Xavier have known one another a long time,” the father continued, without waiting for Ellie’s answer. She wasn’t sure she could speak, anyway.
“Their wedding was to take place next month.”
Was? Ellie’s heart speeded up.
“But his injuries might not make that possible,” the mother interjected, the words raspy, loaded with a pain Ellie understood.
“Nonetheless, when he wakes, he will want to marry her. There is no doubt in my mind about that.”
Ellie sucked in a breath as the reality of what she was being told perforated the fog in her mind. He was engaged to another woman. His body was possessed by another, his mind, his heart. All of him.
“But he … said he loves me,” she said with a shake of her head, realizing how ridiculous that sounded. “Or that he could love me.” It was all a blur. She swept her eyes shut, trying to recall all the little promises they’d made one another. Some spoken, some implied, all meaningful.
The elegant Spanish couple shared a glance, and Xavier’s mother’s expression bore a look of intense pain.
“He loves Arabella,” the father insisted, with no concept of how those words tore through her.
“He said…”
“Whatever he said was a lie. It’s not unusual for a man to have doubts before his wedding – and the wedding is only weeks away now.”
Ellie’s stomach churned. So what? She’d been a last little bit of fun?
“I can’t believe this,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Arabella is devastated with her worry. She has cried all night with concern for Xavier. The last thing she needs is to find out he’s been in London, messing around with…”
Ellie held a hand up, unable to let him complete that sentence. It would burn her if he did. There was no description of what they’d been to one another that wouldn’t mortally wound her.
“I’m sorry our son has hurt you,” the father continued, softening his tone. “But we’re going to have to ask you to leave now. This is a family matter.”
A silent sob wracked Ellie’s chest. A family matter. The line was there and Ellie would never breach it.
“And I must insist that you don’t contact my son again.”
Ellie’s eyes flashed with fire as she instinctively rejected that idea. Never speak to Xavier again? Never touch him? No. She couldn’t agree to that.
“He loves Arabella,” the father took over, perhaps sensing her opposition. “And she loves him. No good can come to anyone with you interfering.”
“I beg your pardon,” Ellie finally found her voice. “I would never interfere in a marriage.” Her cheeks were whiter than paper. “I had no idea your son was engaged. Believe me, had he told me of… Arabella’s existence in his life, I wouldn’t have looked twice at him.” How it hurt to say the other woman’s name!
The parents exchanged a look, and it was heavy with a crucible of emotions. Sorrow, recrimination and guilt.
Ellie was laced with regret. With foolish, hurt pride and a love that was strangling her organs, for its misplaced existence. How could she possibly have thought she’d fallen in love with him? After only two days?
This was her foolish fantasy, not his. She saw their weekend through his eyes now – the seduction, the laughter. The fun. How easy she’d been for him to take to bed – how easy he’d found it to walk away from her. That wasn’t the act of a man in love. It was the deed of a man who was promised to another, who wanted a last fling and didn’t much care who with.
“You know we have money,” the mother said, desperation in her tone. “We would happily provide you with a financial settlement in exchange for your silence.”
Ellie’s harsh intake of breath rang through the corridors. “How dare you?” She whispered, the words numb, yet carrying the force of a thousand volcanoes.
“Our son is lying there broken,” the mother pleaded. “And when he wakes up, we need his life to be waiting for him. If Arabella found out about you, about this, it would destroy her. And him. If you care about him at all, you won’t go to the press with this –,”
Ellie shook her head harshly. “I would never do that.”
“We cannot simply take your word for it.”
Ellie lifted her chin, anger and poise radiating from every line of her petite frame. “You’re going to have to.”
She was shivering though, and she desperately needed to get away from them.
“I’m sorry he hurt you.”
Ellie shook her head. “I’ll go now,” she said simply. “On one condition.”
The parents looked at each other, mistrust lining their faces. “What is it?”
“You’ll call and tell me how he is. I just… need to know he’s okay.”
The mother’s shoulders sagged. “Yes. Give Roberto your number. Thank you.” She looked at Xavier’s father. “I will go back to Arabella and our son.” She walked away, without a backwards glance at Ellie.
“Xavier has always had … an appetite,” the father began, his tone somewhat apologetic.
“Please don’t.” Ellie swept her eyes shut, her heart in pieces. “I know what this must look like to you. I know how it must seem. But I want to reserve the right to remember this weekend as what it felt like to me. As two people falling in love.” She sobbed then, lifting a hand to her cheek and dashing away the tears. “I know he’s getting married. You won’t hear from me again. I can promise you that. But at least let me hold onto the memory.”
Xavier’s father looked surprised, but he nodded slowly. “As you wish.”
Ellie stayed only so long as it took to leave her number and then she walked with knees that were shaking and a head held high, from the hospital ward, and out of Xavier’s life.
He’d been in a coma for a month.
On the day he’d come back to the living world, thin and disoriented, his mother had called Ellie. “It’s Maria. Salbatore.” And then, at Ellie’s silence. “Xavier’s mother.”
Ellie nodded, then made a strangled noise of acknowledgement, her breath held, her heart twisting, bracing for bad news.
“He’s awake.”
She’d been walking through Regents Park, and she’d sunk to the grass, uncaring that it was wet beneath her bottom. Tears sparkled on her lashes. “How is he?” The question was hoarse.
“He’s… He will have a long recovery,” Maria said slowly. “But Arabella is by his side constantly. She vows he will be standing at their wedding day.”
Ellie sobbed, fresh hurts lashing pains that were already so tender. “I’m… glad he has her.”
Silence fell, and then, “He hasn’t contacted you?”
“No.” Ellie bit the word out, her heart breaking.
His mother sighed. “He made a mistake, and I am sorry for that. Arabella is the only person who makes him happy, now. He loves her, Elizabeth. I know that if he could take back what happened with you, he would. I need you to promise me you’ll never contact him, or me, ever again.”
Ellie’s chest was shredded by the request. It burned her alive. But she nodded, and then cleared her throat. “It’s over,” she said stiffly, her soul withering with the acknowledgement of such finality. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“Good. You’re right. How could it have meant anything when he’s so happy with Bella? Already talking about the family they’ll have and where they’ll settle…”
And Ellie had disconnected the call as swiftly as she could. That was the end of it.
He was marrying Arabella, and planning to start a family with her. But at least he was alive – and that was some comfort for her miserable heart.
Two months later, she discovered her pregnancy.
Two awful months and then her world had fallen further apart, when her parents – conservative to a fault – had refused to support her.
Had refused to allow her to live with them when she was carrying an illegitimate baby.
“Who is the father?” They’d railed at her, again and again, and she’d said nothing.
Because she couldn’t.
How would she ever tell anyone that she’d been foolish enough to be drawn into a man like Xavier Salbatore’s seductions?
What a stupid, na?ve child she’d been! Time had given her some clarity and she’d been able to see how he’d used her. How he’d seen her as an easy target and seduced her for sport. How she’d meant nothing to him, just as Maria had said. No one would judge her more harshly than she did herself.
“If you won’t tell us, so that we can make him marry you and raise this baby properly, then you will leave our house at once!”
Marry her? She laughed. Not a sound of humour. A deranged sound of pain. She’d refused to tell them his name, and they’d stuck to their threat, giving her ten minutes to pack a bag and then telling her to take her shame far away from them.
She had
And yet she’d agonized over the pregnancy. She’d agonized over whether or not she could keep a baby from someone. On the one hand, he had a whole life that was completely distinct to her. She’d been an aberration for him – a guilty secret he’d never planned to share with another soul. The consequences of that weekend would be unwelcome for him.
He wouldn’t be grateful to her for sweeping in and threatening his relationship, and his life, with this bombshell of a revelation.
And yet…
He was this child’s father. Didn’t he at least have a right to know? Couldn’t he then decide what he wanted to do? If she made it very clear she wanted nothing from him, except to be left alone as much as possible?
Yes, she had to tell him.
And so she’d called his mother, one last time, hating that she had to go through a third party in order to communicate with Xavier.
Maria must have recognized the number, because she answered with a suspicious tone in her voice.
“It’s me. Elizabeth,” Ellie said, just to be sure.
“Yes?” Maria could not be colder nor more unwelcoming if she tried.
“I…” I’m pregnant. Your son’s the father. It shouldn’t be so hard to say.
“I’m glad you called,” Maria rushed to speak first. “It gives me a chance to tell you that I spoke to my son about you.”
Ellie’s heart slammed into her ribcage and a foolish ray of hope slipped into her breast. “Oh?”
“Yes. I was angry at him for cheating – we raised a better man than that! - and so I asked him about you.”
Ellie’s stomach twisted painfully; she gasped and had to sit down. “What did he say?”
“That he was ashamed. Mortified. He said that weekend was just a bit of fun before the wedding; that it was meaningless. Had it not been for the accident he would have made sure you understood that yourself – that you knew it had just been …” Maria cleared her throat. “Sexual.”
The words danced like pinpricks of pain on Ellie’s eyelids.
“He said he regretted it, that he wished he’d never met you. He said if he could have his time again, he would never do anything to hurt Arabella. She means the world to him, as he does to her, so you can see why my husband and I sought to protect him from…”
Ellie squeezed her eyes shut, pain lancing her. “From me,” she finished the sentence, the very idea that she would ever do anything to hurt Xavier. Even now, she couldn’t imagine wishing him ill.
“So whatever fantasies you’re harbouring towards my son, I’m telling you this to save you the embarrassment. It was a foolish indiscretion but now it’s over. Done with. You truly are better to forget he ever existed.” And then, with a slightly softer tone. “I know he’s forgotten all about you.”
She thought about telling Maria anyway. Or forcing her way into Xavier’s life. But to do so would have killed Ellie.
To see him and know that he wished they’d never met, to know that she’d always be a mistake to him. Would he view their son as a mistake? Would he loathe her for ruining his marriage? And wouldn’t she loathe herself anyway?
The wedding photos had cemented it.
She’d googled him and the pictures had popped up, taken from a Spanish street, the sun shining, the woman Ellie recognized from the hospital at his side.
And Ellie had cried, because Xavier looked so different, and so familiar.
His face was in profile, because he was looking at his bride, a smile on his face.
His body was thinner, but it was still, unmistakably, him.
He was married – but he might as well have been dead to her.
She wouldn’t allow herself to dwell in the past.
That weekend had been a mistake, for both of them. But only one of them had to live with the consequences.