Chapter 14
14
T WENTY FOUR HOURS LATER, finally back in her own apartment, Emilia figured she deserved some kind of award for her acting abilities. Leandro had refused to allow her to go home any sooner. Instead, he’d brought her back to the house he shared with his wife Skye and their daughter Harper, so she’d been subjected to Skye’s loving, well-intentioned fussing, and had been completely unable to contact Salvatore. Her bag had been left at the function the night before, and while Leandro had said he’d retrieve it, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was intentionally keeping her separate from her device, to stop her from reaching out to Salvatore.
It was obvious that his misgivings were enormous—and not likely to shift any time soon.
So she played along with their caring and compassionate looking after her, downplaying any physical symptoms even when her whole body ached and her wrist in particular was agonizingly sore. But the worst of all was her heart.
She needed to see Salvatore more than she could say.
Finally, back in her own apartment, she waited ten minutes—not convinced her brother wouldn’t have sat downstairs with the car idling to be sure she followed his direction of going ‘straight to bed’, and instead hailed a cab, giving the driver Salvatore’s address a little breathlessly.
The doorman, thankfully, recognized her, and let her straight in and up to his level, so moments later, she was pressing the buzzer for his apartment and then waiting, heart in her throat, with no idea what she could say to him. She knew only that it was right—and important—to be here with him.
Everything with Leandro had been a disaster, but it wasn’t the end. It wasn’t the end, by a long shot. Strangely, that arbitrary date they’d set now seemed ludicrous. The thought of walking away from Salvatore was impossible to contemplate. Not when she felt like this.
If there was any possibility he felt the same, then she had to tell him. She had to grab this with both hands. True, it was an almost impossible situation to navigate, but if they faced it together, she knew they could do it.
But the second the door opened to reveal Salvatore on the other side, his face bruised all over, whatever else Emilia had been about to say flew out of her mind. “Oh my God,” she cried, rushing forward and lifting her hands to his cheeks, staring at him as tears filled her eyes then ravaged her cheeks. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she repeated. “I can’t believe it.” Where her brother was sporting a single dark bruise on one cheek, Salvatore looked as though he’d been thumped several times over.
“It all happened so fast, I didn’t see, I didn’t realise. Oh my God,” she cried then, her voice wobbling. “I’m so sorry.”
He stood perfectly still, absorbing her words, just staring down at her, his dark eyes latched to hers, somehow bringing stillness, so after a moment, she shook her head in an attempt to clear the tears. “I’m going to kill him,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“Don’t,” Salvatore said, angling his face away a little. “Believe me, if that had been Sofia, I would have done the same thing.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” she sobbed. “I know you.” She ran her fingers over his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop saying that. This isn’t your fault.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Yes.” His eyes shifted back to hers. “What are you doing here?”
She bit into her lip, her heart thumping. That was an excellent question. “I think we need to talk.”
His eyes roamed her features and then he nodded once. “Yes.” He stepped back, away from her, so her hands dropped to her side. “Come in.”
There was a formality to his tone she chose not to register. Or perhaps a caution. Either way, her own thoughts and feelings were crowding her mind, making it hard to hear his hesitation.
“I’m so sorry about my brother,” she said, when they were deeper in his apartment, hands ringing in her front. “He had no right?—,”
“I’ve told you, it doesn’t matter. I understand it.”
“There is no excuse for violence.”
“No.”
“And he should know that. He of all people?—,”
“Why?”
She opened her mouth to explain. To tell him about Skye’s ex, who had been abusive and violent and made Skye live in fear. But it was a deeply private part of Skye’s life, and she wasn’t sure if it was her place to share it.
“He just—abhors violence.”
“We can all do things we wouldn’t expect, in certain circumstances.”
“Did you get it checked out?”
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
He looked at her with an expression that was bordering on mocking, so she rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re too tough to feel pain.”
“It’s uncomfortable to sleep,” he admitted, as if to mollify her. “But I’m pretty sure I’ll live.”
A shudder ran down her spine at the possibility that he might not. That anything could ever happen to him, to take him away from her. And in that moment, she knew. She really absolutely knew the truth of her heart. It was like being struck with lightning, clear and instant, so she stood up straighter and stared at him, her whole body fizzing with warmth at the brand new clarity.
“I love you,” she said, the words almost hurled at him. “Oh my God, Salvatore. I’m in love with you. I knew—I knew I didn’t want this to end, but I didn’t realise—I didn’t know—I’m completely in love with you.”
Salvatore stood perfectly still, except for his eyes, which seemed to twist and turn in an attempt to make sense of her admission. It made her realise how stupid she’d been to ever think she’d loved Jesse. True, she’d been young, but she’d truly believed he’d made his way into her heart.
What a joke.
He’d barely scratched the surface.
Whereas Salvatore’s very essence was deep inside her, writhing, twisting, taking over every cell and organ, becoming more and more a part of her, almost more than she could bear. But what option did she have? She couldn’t walk away from this.
“I love you,” she said again, and this time, there was a huge swelling of relief. That she’d recognised her feelings, and was saying them aloud.
“Emilia—,” his exhalation was a sigh. Definitely less joyous than she was feeling. It was almost enough to put a dampener on her mood, but not quite.
“I know, I know. I know a lot’s happened in the last twenty four hours. I get it. But none of that matters. None of that changes anything?—,”
“It changes everything .” His voice was quiet but his words had the strength of steel. “You must see that.”
“Why?”
He stood as still as a sentinel for what felt like the longest time, but was in fact probably only a minute—or barely a minute—and then, put his hand on the small of her back, guiding her across the lounge room, towards a sofa. “Sit.”
There was a command in his voice and she naturally bristled against it. Yet his concern was obvious, and when she looked at his beautiful face and saw what her brother had done to it, how could she argue? How could she argue with the way he was looking at her, like she was made of the most fragile of glass, and wanted to keep her permanently safe? What was that if not an admission of love?
When she was perched on the edge of the sofa, he crouched at her feet, between her legs, his eyes latched to hers, hands resting on her knees. “We have to end this.”
Not only was it the last thing she expected him to say, it was the last thing she could bear to hear. She shook her head slowly in an instantaneous rejection of that. “Absolutely not.”
“Listen to me.” His voice though, with that quiet, natural authority, rode over the top of hers. “Your brother made it very clear that in choosing me—this—you will lose your family. Do you think there is any way on earth I would allow that to happen?”
“It won’t happen,” she said, firmly.
“You didn’t see him at the hospital.”
She frowned. “He was angry.”
“And he will continue to be angry,” he insisted.
“I get that. It’s not going to be easy, but as he gets to know you, he’ll see?—,”
“He won’t. None of them will. If you don’t end this, and tell your brother it’s over, he is going to make sure you’re pushed out of your family.”
“You don’t know Leo.”
“I know men like him. Hell, I am a man like him. I saw the determination in his eyes, and I understood it. He meant every word he said to me, Emilia.”
He was probably right. But as she looked at the man she loved, she felt a swelling in her chest, as their whole future unfurled inside of her. The future she’d wanted all her life, and hadn’t known she’d ever be blessed enough to receive. “I’m willing to take that risk.”
He pulled back a little, his expression impossible to read, but it was clear those words were filtering through his brain, that he was thinking about them, trying to make sense of them. “I won’t let you.”
“You won’t let me?”
He shook his head once. “This isn’t worth it.”
The words were hard to comprehend at first. She knew they landed with a thud, that she didn’t like them, but it took her a few moments of letting them replay over and over in her mind before she really understood what he was saying.
“You mean we’re not worth it. You mean this isn’t worth fighting for?”
He glanced beyond her. “We both know there’s no future here.”
“Do we?”
“We’ve agreed that all along.”
“Yeah, but?—,”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “There is no ‘but’. Nothing’s changed. Your family is?—,”
“Everything’s changed,” she contradicted ferociously. “Once upon a time you were just Salvatore Santoro. I mean, we obviously had a connection, but I genuinely thought it was just sex, at first.”
His eyes bore through hers with the intensity of his gaze.
“But it’s so much more,” she finished softly, almost in a whisper. “Don’t deny that you feel it, too.”
He was quiet for such a long time that her heart began to splinter in the most painful of ways. She leaned forward, running her fingers over his bruised cheek. “Salvatore?”
His Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed. Ice flooded her veins.
“Obviously it’s more than sex,” he said, finally. “I’ve told you—you’re so different. So—special, cara. The other night, seeing you at the bottom of the stairs, I couldn’t?—,”
“I’m fine,” she said, wriggling even further forward, until she was close enough to press a kiss to his brow. Gently, softly, because the moment seemed to call for that.
“But you could just as easily have not been. And I did that to you.”
“You didn’t. It was an accident. As much Leo’s fault, and my own, as it was yours.”
“I should have protected you.”
“It all happened too fast.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, with one quick jerk of his head, pulling away from her a little before standing and pacing across the room. In the luxurious, open-plan kitchen, he braced his palms on the counter, staring across at her with an expression that she could best describe as haunted.
“Make me understand, then,” she implored. Because as sure as day followed night, she knew he was holding something back from her. That maybe he’d always been holding it back.
She wanted to be close to him. To reach for him and hold him, but something—a preservation instinct?—held her still, bracing on the sofa for whatever would follow.
“I’ve never wanted this,” he said, quietly, but with determination. “I’ve never wanted a relationship with a woman. Casual, easy sex has literally been the sum total of my aspirations for as long as I can remember.”
“I know that,” she said. But they were different, she wanted to argue. They were so much more than what he’d just described. Was there any point, though, in telling him that? If he didn’t see it and feel it, would she ever be able to convince him?
“But what you don’t know is why.”
His whole body was rigid, as though steel had been poured through his spine. He was such a big man—strong and muscular, confident and authoritative—but there was something about him in that moment that made her ache for his vulnerability. She stayed where she was, half afraid to move in case it stopped him from saying whatever was on his mind.
“I was with a girl once—a long time ago. I let it go too far. I let her think it was serious. That I wanted more. Back then, I didn’t know I didn’t want more, I just knew I didn’t love her. In some ways, I was no different to Jesse.”
She stifled a snort. There was no way Salvatore would ever treat a woman the way Jesse had her.
“I used her,” Salvatore contradicted the words she hadn’t said. “Looking back, all the signs were there that she was more into me than I was her, but I liked her company, I liked sleeping with her, and on balance, I just didn’t think about what was best for her.”
“How old were you?” Emilia pushed, gently.
“Nineteen.”
“Still just learning, Salvatore.”
“It doesn’t change the effect my choices had on her. Melania was devastated when I ended it, yet I walked away without a backwards glance. I’d moved on. Easy enough to do when your feelings aren’t involved.”
Sympathy twisted inside Emilia for the unknown Melania. She understood completely how hard it would be to get over Salvatore. A huge part of her hoped she’d never have to, but her inner-realist was starting to understand that there was a reason Salvatore had been such a playboy. It was entirely possible he’d never commit to a woman.
“You were so young,” she reminded him. “I’m sure it hurt, at the time, but that’s part of growing up. Getting your heart broken, learning from the experience?—,”
“She tried to kill herself, Emilia.” His voice was hollowed out, so she knew that he still felt the trauma of that, deep in his soul.
She gasped, no longer able to stay on the sofa. She pushed up and crossed the room quickly, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her cheek to his back. “That’s not your fault.”
His laugh was a short sound, totally devoid of any mirth. “She left a note blaming me.”
Emilia closed her eyes, as sympathy turned to something else—anger. “You had every right to break up with her.”
“I handled it badly. I was in the wrong, and if it hadn’t been for a family member going to her house unexpectedly and finding the pill bottle beside the bed, she would have succeeded. I almost killed her.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that. I’m sorry she wanted more than you could give. But you cannot carry that guilt around your whole life.”
“It’s not guilt, cara. Not anymore. It’s determination. I made many stupid mistakes in my relationship with Melania—mistakes I have never—and will never—repeat.”
Something stitched inside Emilia as a hint of comprehension began to form. “That’s why you sleep around.”
“It’s why I don’t get involved,” he amended slightly, spinning then in the circle of her arms to face her properly. His bruised face was so earnest, so full of concentration. Like it was the most important thing in his life to get her to understand. “I will never risk hurting a woman like that again. I cannot live my life knowing that I’m the cause of that sort of pain.”
“But Salvatore—pain is part of life. We all hurt each other, in one way or another.”
“I can’t hurt you.”
She closed her eyes, frustration butting heads with futility. “You won’t.”
“Of course I will. I’m only angry I didn’t comprehend that from the beginning. What possible good outcome is there, here, Emilia? If we stay together, you will lose your family—I cannot permit that to happen. It is not a choice you should have to make.”
“If I lose my family, it will be because of their choices, not yours.”
“And I will always know that you are unhappy.”
“I would?—,”
He shook his head, lifting a finger to her lips. “You say that now. But, in time, you would miss them in an unbearable way. I have heard you speak about them, I have seen the love and respect you feel for them. Every time you mention your brothers or your parents, your whole face lights up. I will never be the reason you do not have them in your life.”
“ You wouldn’t be,” she insisted. “In choosing to love you, I’m doing what’s best for me. If my family can’t understand that, then that’s their decision. I wouldn’t blame you.”
“And what next?” He pushed, like a dog with a bone, evidently determined to have her understand his concerns. “How long does this last? Another month? Six? A year? Can you honestly say that the longer we’re together will make it easier to separate?”
She frowned, truly confused by how much he wasn’t following her. “Who says we have to separate at all?”
He expelled a rough breath. “My past history.”
“You’ve just explained why you made those choices—but this is different. I’m different.”
“Yes.”
“So why isn’t it reasonable to assume the outcome will be, too?”
He cupped her face then, holding her steady. “I can’t hurt you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t trust myself not to hurt you,” he amended.
“That’s stupid.” Anger made the words erupt harshly. “You’re a great person, Salvatore. A wonderful man. And I’m a grown woman, just like you said. If you hurt me, I’ll tell you, and you’ll fix it. If I hurt you, you’ll tell me, and I’ll fix it. That’s the way relationships work.” She lifted up onto the tips of her toes to kiss his lips. “It’s a leap of faith for both of us. But can you really think of someone else you’d want to take that leap with? Can you really imagine a world where we don’t?” His eyes stayed locked to hers, so the hope that had started as a small flicker in her heart exploded into a proper fire. “Do you actually want me to leave here, now, and never come back?”
She could see the fight in his mind. She could see in the way his eyes shadowed and his jaw tightened that he was literally at war with himself. It was a knife’s edge moment—an almost out of body experience, because Emilia was aware she was standing on the precipice of something. Either way, she’d tumble over and into the rest of her life. It was just a question of whether Salvatore would be there or not.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said, finally, slowly, closing his eyes on a wave of surrender. Not happily, though. She could tell how angry he was with himself for admitting that. “But I can’t make you any promises beyond that. Just…stay tonight, Emilia. Stay tonight because we both want that. We’ll talk more in the morning.”