Chapter 20
“EMME,” RAF SAID WITH A frown, pulling the door open wider. “What are you doing here?” He glanced behind her. “Where’s Salvatore?”
“I’m meeting him around the corner—we’re going to that new French restaurant for dinner. Want to join us?”
“Dinner?” Raf repeated, stepping back and gesturing for her to come in.
His sister-in-law had once been a most hated enemy, from the rival Valentino family.
They’d grown up despising them, only circumstances had thrown Salvatore and Emme together, and just like Romeo and Juliet, it had almost been a plague on both their houses, as the families fought to keep them apart.
It had almost killed Salvatore—they’d learned their lesson. Emme was now a much-loved member of their family, all the more so for how good she clearly was for Salvatore.
Despite that, Raf really wasn’t in the mood, and he knew it would show on his face if he wasn’t careful. He closed the door with a grimace.
“I’m heading out,” he lied. He hadn’t been going out at all.
Anywhere. Even the office had held little appeal, so Raf had done whatever work he needed from home, and spent the rest of the time in a state of almost suspended animation, waiting for the next time he’d see Elodie—at the twenty week scan, which was only days away, now.
He had spent the last seven weeks missing her like hell.
Hurting. Grieving. Wanting. Knowing he’d done the right thing but aching in every cell of his body to go to her and demand she come back here.
That she come home. Whether that was London, or Italy, place didn’t matter.
Surely she just belonged near him; the father of her children.
She was his to care for—that had been his guiding light since he learned of her pregnancy.
And you are looking after her. By setting her free while ensuring her every practical need was met, he’d done what Elodie needed, even when it had hurt him. He’d sacrificed his own happiness for hers.
“You’ve been quiet,” she said, so he immediately understood what this was. A patented Santoro check up. A casual pop in visit, dispatched by the family, no doubt with the request of reporting her findings as soon as she’d left.
“I’ve been busy,” he lied.
She looked around, as if for evidence of that. Based on past performance, he supposed it was fair to expect to see his living room littered with scotch bottles and proof of having entertained the night before, but this time, there was not a cushion out of place.
Because you’re waiting for her to come back.
Yes. His state of suspended animation had included a constant state of readiness, just in case Elodie decided she wanted to see him. His gut rolled at the very idea. The scan couldn’t come soon enough.
“Too busy to come home?”
The question landed harder than Emme had intended.
He closed his eyes against the wave of memories—flying to Italy with Elodie, his villa, the yacht, sundrenched mornings, sensuous lovemaking, waves lapping, the way she was with his family.
The contrast of that warmth and pleasure with this barren life was unbearable.
“Yes.”
“Okay, what’s going on,” Emme asked, crossing her arms. “Is it Elodie?”
He ground his teeth. Damn his family and their invasive determination to be in each other’s lives constantly.
“There’s nothing,” he lied. “I’ll come home soon.” Another lie.
She grunted, stalking across the living room to the liquor cabinet and removing a mineral water. “I presume you’ll want something harder?”
He frowned as his eyes landed on the scotch bottle.
He hadn’t touched the stuff in a long time.
Not since Elodie had told him about the babies.
After Marcia, he’d drunk himself into a fog, just like his father had after their mother died.
Only he hadn’t been grieving the loss of Marcia, he’d been furious with himself, for his stupidity, furious with her for her deception.
With Elodie, his pain went deeper, took over more of his soul, and yet he didn’t want to numb it with alcohol. He embraced even the pain, the aching, desperate throb of emptiness in his chest, that was a constant reminder of her.
“No. I’m fine. I’m going out soon,” he said, just needing Emme to go. He couldn’t see his family. It made it all too real, made him feel things he didn’t want to feel.
“Suit yourself.” She cracked the top off her mineral water and carried it with her to one of the armchairs, which she curled up into, legs beneath her, like a cat.
He stared at her, bemused. She was clearly not picking up the vibe he was laying down.
“What are you doing in London?”
For a moment, a storm cloud passed her face, then she smiled. “We’re seeing my family.”
Raf wasn’t such a jerk that he couldn’t focus on Emme for a moment, and on the huge revelation of this. “All of them?”
She nodded.
“I’m really happy to hear that.”
“It’s been a long time coming, I guess. I mean, I’ve seen my parents, and my sisters in law, but not all of them together.”
Emme’s family had been far harsher, when the truth about her and Salvatore had come out, and it had been almost impossible for Emme to forgive them.
“You’re ready to move forward?”
“Step by step,” she said with a lift of one shoulder. “The thing is, the timing feels important.”
“Why is that? Is someone sick?” That would explain it. If her father or mother had been diagnosed with something, it would explain the change of heart.
“No. Quite the opposite.” She stood then, moving towards Raf with a beaming smile. “You and Elodie are not the only future parents, Raf.”
It took a second for him to process what she was saying.
The mention of Elodie, and their children, of them becoming parents, was like a chainsaw cutting right through him.
He almost staggered backwards in pain at the invocation of the life he’d been living, two months earlier.
When he’d genuinely believed they could be ‘parents with benefits’ and there would be no future complications arising from that.
“Hello, did you hear me?” she asked with a laugh, clicking her fingers in his face.
“Yes, shit, Emme, I’m sorry. That’s such great news.” He wrapped her in a big hug, a heavy weight pressing to his chest. Grief making his throat sting. “I’m thrilled for you.”
“As we are for you. Where’s Elodie, anyway? I’d love to swap pregnancy horror stories with her. Won’t it be lovely for our children to grow up together? They’ll be cousins, but more like siblings, just like you all are.”
“Yes,” he agreed, even as the chasm in his chest was yawning to the point of no return.
“You sure you won’t come to dinner with us? Salvatore would love to see you.”
“Another time,” he said. “Soon,” he amended, when her expression showed skepticism and impatience.
“You know they’re going to make me tell them something,” she admitted, as she reached the door.
He felt the weight of that and knew he’d already put his family through more than their fair share, these last few years.
“Tell them we have our twenty-week scan in a few days. I’ll…come home after that. With news.”
She beamed. “That’ll do it.” She reached up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Want some unsolicited advice?”
“Never, but from you, I’ll tolerate it.”
She grinned. “Your family loves you. They’re special people. Don’t keep shutting them out, Raf. Whatever’s going on, they want the best for you. Let them help.”
He nodded once, but as he shut the door, he knew in his heart that there was nothing his family—or anyone—could do to help him. He was adrift, and far too scared to grab the anchor he so desperately wanted.
Scared—in a way that was holding him back from everything he now knew he wanted most in life. And he hated himself for that.
It wasn’t until the morning of the scan that Raf realized how completely he’d been living for this appointment, scheduled so long ago, when Elodie had experienced that scare and the obstetrician had booked in all their dates.
He knew she’d saved it in her phone, because he’d seen her pop the dates in, but he hadn’t realized that it would become the beacon on his own calendar—the date he’d finally see her and could still keep within the boundaries of the relationship they were working to establish.
But he would still get to see her. To hear her voice. To hold her hand, perhaps, as the wand moved over her belly. What would she look like now? How big would the babies be? He had never dressed faster and felt time moved more slowly, as he waited, and waited, for the appointment time to arrive.
After what seemed like an eternity, he made his way to the clinic, drumming his fingers against his knee, feeling a little like a kid on Christmas morning, even when he knew that seeing Elodie briefly wouldn’t change a thing about what they were.
It didn’t matter. After more than two months apart, he needed to see her like he needed air, water, food.
His driver pulled to a stop out the front of the hospital ten minutes before the allotted time.
Impatience had him pushing out of the car quickly, striding into the waiting room and glancing around.
It was busy, but that didn’t matter. He would have been able to spot Elodie even in a crowd of three thousand. She wasn’t here yet.
Then again, he was early. He paced the linoleum near the doors, glancing up every time they swished open, suppressing his annoyance when it turned out to be someone else.
Until the appointment time came, and went, and Elodie hadn’t arrived.
A twisting feeling began to grow in his gut, a sense of disbelief and doubt.
He called Raul’s number first. “Are you stuck in traffic?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Where are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“The appointment.”
“What appointment?”
He wanted to roar. He wanted to bang his fist into a wall. He wanted to run until his breath burned in his lungs. He had been waiting for this day for so long, just to see her, and now this?