CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
T H E FIRST - CLASS TICKET was woefully wasted on her because after two sodas and a mouthful of vichyssoise, she asked not to be disturbed, flattened her bed and pulled her blanket over her head. Then she spent the next fifteen hours swinging between silent tears, hopeless rage at herself for falling in love with the most incredible man on the face of the earth, and pulses of rage at Jario for being devastatingly irresistible. For leaving her with the lingering promise that she might see him again. But mostly for showing her far too many glimpses of what could’ve been between them if their circumstances hadn’t been so impossible.
But...had they?
She pushed the misleading voice away. It had been why she’d been tempted down the wrong path. She vowed never to listen to it again.
Especially when it disregarded her deep focus over the next week on the final practice sessions on her violin and stayed with her, insisting her job wasn’t quite done. That even if her love had been rejected, her one avenue of solace still remained to her.
It drove her to hunt down her father for the tough conversation they needed to have.
And for the first time in her life, perhaps coming too late, she saw naked emotion in her father’s eyes when she said, ‘I’m leaving, Dad.’
He swallowed, red-rimmed eyes filling with...fear. ‘What?’
‘I’ve tried, but I can’t do this anymore. Maybe you love me in your own way. Maybe you don’t. But...it’s time for me to take care of myself.’ At his heavy silence, she turned towards the door, then immediately turned back. ‘You shattered his family. And you never owned up to it. I don’t know that I can live with that. I don’t know how you can.’ Tough words that hurt her throat and made her heart bleed for Jario. For herself.
His demeanour crumpled almost immediately, his hand shaking as he dragged it down his face. ‘I know.’
‘You said you tried. If that’s true, you need to tell him that.’
He nodded again, his expression downright miserable. ‘You’re right. I know I haven’t been the best father.’
She couldn’t refute it, so she pursed her lips, swallowed the lump wedged in her throat. After a moment, his rheumy eyes rose to hers and a sad smile curved his lips.
‘I see you’re not disagreeing.’
‘If there’s any hope for us, what matters is what you do from now on.’
Panic flared briefly in his eyes, then he gritted his jaw and nodded. ‘One way or the other, it has to end, right?’
Words echoing far too closely to what Jario had said sent a shaft of trepidation through her, but she nodded anyway. ‘Bye, Dad.’
The San Francisco Harmonic auditorium was packed.
The constant buzz of excited voices, which was nowhere as soothing as the vibrations of his yacht’s engines, pressed in on him, attempting to dislodge his sanity. But Jario held on.
He’d stepped off his yacht and onto dry land for the first time in years three days ago. His first instinct had been to track Willow down, but he’d needed to do a few things first.
Now, as his fingers tapped nervously against the programme page where her stunning picture was displayed, he wished he could dislodge the other refrain in his head.
You’re too late. You’re too late.
By the time her piece came, he was almost crawling out of his skin.
Her violin solo wasn’t long. But it was profound and haunting and magnificent enough to have the entire audience enthralled. To have them applauding louder and longer when it was over. To keep him on his feet and clapping longer still. Until heads turned his way, until eyes widened, speculation drifting through the crowd.
But Jario only had eyes for her.
As he’d had right from the beginning.
As he should’ve before committing the sin of allowing the past to dictate his future.
He’d have only himself to blame if he was too late. But she’d taught him to fight, to find a different path, and santo diavolo , he’d fight to the death for her, given half a chance.
That chance-seeking was interrupted when the event ended and he was making his way backstage, by a man he’d know anywhere on earth.
Since their last face-to-face meeting drink had taken its toll on Paul Chatterton. As Jario looked into his eyes, he saw another emotion that tormented him.
Guilt .
‘Tagarro. Can I have a word, please?’ the older man rasped.
Jario’s nostrils flared. Meeting Chatterton had been on his list but here and now wasn’t how he’d planned it. But perhaps it was right that he went to Willow with even less baggage.
‘You have five minutes.’
‘I know this means less than nothing in the grand scheme of things, but I tried to help when I got back. The banks refused to lend me money, and the company wasn’t worth anywhere near what was needed. It was why we went to Colombia in the first place. If that deal had happened, we would’ve...’
Jario watched Paul Chatterton take a deep breath, his pallor ashen. ‘Why did you lie about the insurance?’
Chatterton’s face crumbled. ‘I thought it was too expensive. And yes, I know it was stupid. And wrong.’ Chatterton grimaced. ‘But I honestly didn’t think any of us would need it. I called the Colombian police every day. I even tried to get a charitable fund going but as you can guess, it didn’t get far.’
Jario wished he’d shut up. Not because he didn’t want the overdue show of remorse but because the alarming compassion building inside him overwhelmed him.
Because now, with Willow’s father in front of him, he recognised that emotion as the one that’d delayed Chatterton’s destruction. It’d been there all along, a seed that had flowered with his daughter’s arrival.
He didn’t want to deal with that on top of the wrenching anguish tearing up his insides. He’d suffered through the longest ten days of his life after dropping off his thankfully calmer mother at a wellness resort in the Maldives. Starting with the short, stark and stomach-hollowing text from Willow two days after her departure.
I’m not pregnant.
Three words that had shattered him far deeper than he’d anticipated, killing hope he’d secretly harboured. He’d wandered his yacht for two more sleepless nights before summoning the courage to call her. She’d declined to answer.
And why should she after the deplorable way he’d treated—
‘I’m sorry.’
The thick remorseful voice cut through his wretched mood, forcing him to focus on Chatterton. To stare into his own misery to know he meant it.
‘I was a coward. A terrified coward who didn’t want to lose his company,’ Chatterton said regretfully, his fingers twisting frantically before he shoved them into his pockets. Sweat beaded his upper lip.
Looking around, Jario saw a table holding bottled water. Fetching one, he handed it over. Willow wouldn’t forgive him if her father passed out at her opening night.
And he needed her forgiveness.
‘As for the business, you probably know it never really took off.’ Guilt lurched across Chatterton’s face. ‘Your father was the true visionary behind the company. I’ve been using his business model for the better part of a decade and a half. But times have evolved. I don’t think I have what it takes to stay afloat even if...’
Even if I hadn’t lent a dismantling hand...
There was no satisfaction in that admission. Not when Willow’s voice flowed softly, firmly in his head.
What would your father think?
‘I’m sorry,’ Chatterton repeated.
Jario watched the husk of a man before him, and slowly felt the last embers of vengeance wither and die.
Enough was enough.
The peace that settled on him when he nodded acceptance was the kind he’d only felt with her. He opened his mouth to dismiss Chatterton. Instead... ‘Is she well?’ The words were ripped from a deep, desperate place inside him.
He knew what pain felt like, wouldn’t diminish the agony of losing his father in light of this new brand of torture. But that had been a full-body, constant shroud of pain while with this one...every breath felt like an ice pick stabbing him in the chest, screaming at him to do something .
Her father’s eyes dimmed further. ‘I don’t know. She’s...left home. I have a lot to make up for with her, too, but I’m hoping it’s not too late.’
Jario wanted to insist that her home was the one she’d created on his yacht with him. But again, what right did he have to that claim? When he’d championed and evangelised his pain against her every effort to help him through it? When he’d reduced her importance to wants instead of the well of fulfilling need she’d offered so freely.
Understanding lit the older man’s eyes, so perceptive, Jario wanted to fold his arms, hide his flagrant, desperate yearning.
‘You probably don’t want my blessing but let me offer some advice when it comes to my daughter. She won’t accept half measures. Without a full commitment, you’ll never have her trust and love. I had that and I squandered it.’
The kick in Jario’s chest felt awfully like...hope. He didn’t offer Chatterton a handshake—he wasn’t quite there yet—but a nod for the show of remorse, and the advice curiously eased his debilitating despair as he watched the other man walk away.
He inhaled sharply at the thrust of missing the woman he loved.
Do something.
He strode purposefully backstage, gratified when the security guard took one look at him and stepped aside.
Immersive therapy sucked, especially when it stopped working.
Willow hid in her dressing room, willing the all-encompassing pain of desperately missing Jario to pass.
She could take some consolation that tonight’s performance had gone well. The audience had appreciated her small solo.
Especially that last one who’d clapped longest.
The dim lights had prevented her from seeing them but for a moment she’d hoped... wished it was Jario. Before harsh common sense mocked her.
He was on his yacht, probably throwing axes or wandering the decks.
The hollow in her heart made her regret her period’s arrival that’d shattered her hope of being pregnant. Of retaining one final connection to the man she loved.
The force of her despair had made her reject his calls, terrified of his indifference or worse, relief that she wasn’t pregnant after all. But in her weak moments, she kicked herself for not gifting herself the chance to hear his voice one last time.
A sob caught in her throat, and she was thankful she was alone in the dressing room she shared with three other performers. They were out there, mingling with VIP guests and receiving deserved accolades. She hadn’t been in the mood, escaping into the dressing room now filled with two dozen vases of exquisite yellow roses. She didn’t read the card, didn’t want to deepen her heartache—
‘Willow.’
She froze. Then her head snapped up, her gaze zeroing in on the man standing in the doorway, staring at her with his beautiful blue eyes.
Jario...was...here.
Her fractured heart leapt to her throat as she shook her head.
‘Jario?’ He’d left his yacht. To find her? ‘Wh-why are you here?’
He took a hesitant step forward, his brows clamping as if he was concentrating on walking. On land. Which he’d done...why?
Shouts of laughter and a clink of glasses in the hallway made him flinch.
‘May I come in?’ A shudder raked through him. ‘The sounds. The people. It feels... I feel...’
The enormity of what he’d done propelled her upright. She reached for his arm despite knowing that touching him would only make missing him worse when he left. But feeling the tremors running through him, her heart ached. ‘Come in. It’s fine.’
Jaw clenched, he stared bleakly at her. ‘Is it?’ He shook his head, glancing around. ‘Can we sit, please?’
‘Yes. Of course.’
He sat, his gaze never leaving hers.
While she tortured herself with his scent, noting he looked a little haggard. While she basked in him not taking his eyes off her.
‘You play the violin even more beautifully than the piano.’
‘Oh...thank—’ She stopped. Her eyes widening. ‘That was you applauding, wasn’t it?’
‘Sí.’
She spun around, taking in the flowers with fresh eyes. ‘And these?’
‘A fraction of what you deserve, mi amor .’ Then, ‘Have I lost you, Willow? Is it too late?’
Her throat clogged, thankfully stopping her eager answer. She needed to know what she was dealing with before her shattered heart disintegrated even further. ‘That depends.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Can you ever forgive what happened in the past? Can you ever look at me and not see the daughter of the man who destroyed your family?’
‘I never held what your father did against you. I never would.’ His jaw tightened. ‘He’s here. He wants another chance with you. If it’s not too late?’
Her breath caught. ‘I’m willing to try if he is,’ she murmured.
Jario swallowed. ‘We’ve spoken. I haven’t told him yet, but I’m buying his company. Everyone who wants their job back can have it. And... I’ve forgiven him, tesoro . You should take that win because you taught me that.’
‘I did?’ Elation surged with increments of hope.
He nodded. ‘Your ability to see the good in everyone. To believe that everyone, no matter how flawed, is redeemable. I...want...no, I need that. You showed me there was light at the end of the tunnel. What the hell am I talking about? You’re my light, Willow. It took watching you leave my yacht to realise that. But if you’ll take me back, I promise I will never let you go. I love you.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘You love me?’
‘Probably since that night I turned around and saw you. It felt especially cruel that the fates would send me the woman of my dreams with the name Chatterton, but what I didn’t know was that it was a blessing in disguise. You were exactly who I needed to knock me off my destructive path.’ His eyes darkened. ‘My only regret is that my father never met you.’
Tears prickled her eyes. ‘Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s looking down on you with pride and love, Jario. That if this is what you want, then he would want that for you, too.’
His breath shuddered out. ‘There you go again. Being the blessing I don’t deserve.’
‘You more than deserve me. And... I love you, too, Jario. So much. But...your mother—’
‘Will come around eventually. She’ll see the beautiful, considerate person you are and know that I’m blessed to have you.’
The shattered pieces of her heart coalesced in a soaring rush that made her gasp. ‘Oh, Jario.’
‘Kiss me, mi corazón . Then let me fly us home.’
‘To the yacht?’
Despite the pained look on his face, he shook his head. ‘I left the yacht, and I’ve changed its name. To Luz Guia .’
She roughly translated it. ‘Guiding light?’
He nodded. ‘That’s what you brought to me. But it was time to return home. To Los Angeles.’
‘You’ve been busy. But I thought you said the yacht was home.’
‘And it was a home of sorts before you arrived.’ His hand drifted down her cheek and over her neck to gently cup her nape, his thumb tilting up her chin so she could look into his face. See the surfeit of emotion in his eyes. ‘Now home is where you are. Home is in your arms and in your heart.’ His hand dropped to her belly. ‘In the family I hoped had started already but am committed to having with you if you want it, too.’
She blinked the tears back so she wouldn’t miss a second of that loving smile. ‘I do. So much. Oh, Jario. I promise to wrap those arms tight around you, always. Never let you go.’
His blinding smile caused a wild somersault in her chest. Then his own, more powerful and infinitely loving arms drew her close to his body. ‘I’m going to hold you to that, mi amor . For several lifetimes.’
Standing on tiptoe, she brushed her nose over his, then a kiss over his mouth, her heart full to overflowing when she murmured, ‘And a few more after that.’