The Italian's Doorstep Surprise

She stared at him in astonishment. Was

her grandfather...crying?

“I’m so sorry, Honora,” he whispered. “I never should have done that. I should have listened to you. Trusted you to figure out what was right.” He gave a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry.”

Shocked, she put her hand on his shoulder. “You were trying to help.” Thinking of how she’d tried to help Nico, she looked down. “But sometimes you can’t help. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do, except love someone from a distance.”

Looking up, he said, “You’re right. How did you get to be wiser than me?” He tried to smile. “You’ve always had such a big heart. So eager to help everyone. You love people more than they deserve. Me most of all.” He looked up, his eyes full of tears. “I’m so proud of you, Honora. You should know that. How much I...love you.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d taken off his boot and thrown it at her.

“You...” Her throat closed.

His eyes were watery. “I never was good at saying that, was I? Or showing it. But I’ve always loved you, kid.”

Her grandfather loved her. The thought was like a warm hug. He hadn’t just been taking care of her out of his sense of duty. She’d never been a burden. He loved her.

“I love you too,” she choked out, and he hugged her.

Patrick drew back, smiling. “Now, I’m about to meet my new great-grandbaby, who I already know is going to be the brightest, feistiest, most loving child. Just like her mother.” His green eyes, so much like her own, glowed beneath his bushy gray eyebrows. “And if that husband of yours can’t see what he’s missing, he doesn’t deserve either of you.”

A sudden longing for Nico went through her heart. As she sat in the hospital room, she looked out the window. Outside, it was twilight. Fading red light slanted through the half-open blinds over the sterile equipment and easy-wash floor.

“Oh,” she choked out, tensing as she felt a new labor pain start to rise.

As Honora started to gasp with pain, her grandfather rose quickly to his feet. “I’ll get the doctor, tell her you want an epidural after all—”

“It’s too late,” she panted. “They said it’s too late.” She gasped another breath. “I can handle it—”

And suddenly she knew she could. After all the hard things she’d done in her life, she now knew she was tough and brave enough to handle anything. It was love that made her strong. Love for her baby. Love for her grandfather.

Love for herself.

But she couldn’t stop wishing if only Nico could have been part of their lives! If only he’d been able to open his heart!

She would go on without him, living in her old bedroom of her grandfather and Phyllis’s apartment, until she graduated from college and could afford one of her own. But it wasn’t the life she’d wanted.

If Nico had given her the chance, she would have tried to mend his heart. In a strange way, loving him had helped her mend her own. She would have given anything—

She gasped as her body shook with pain. Her hand tightened on her grandfather’s, making him flinch. But she couldn’t loosen her grip as the agony built, worse than anything she’d ever known, overwhelming her until she cried out.

“Doctor!” her grandfather shouted. “Nurse!” Pulling away, he rushed to the door in a panic. “Please, someone, my granddaughter needs help—”

And suddenly, in the corner of her hazy vision, she saw a large, dark figure push into the room. Not a doctor. Not a nurse.

“Cara.”

Honora looked up with a gasp.

Was she hallucinating?

Like a miracle, she saw her husband. He rushed to her bedside, and she saw that his clothes were wrinkled, his jaw unshaven, and he had deep hollows beneath his eyes. But as he leaned forward to take her hand, his dark eyes glowed.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Oh, my darling,” he whispered, kissing her sweaty temple. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” she choked out. “I told you we’re through—”

But even as she spoke the words, she gripped his hand desperately.