But forty minutes later, after Rosalie tucked her sleeping baby into his crib, leaving Odette to listen to the baby monitor, she went back outside, only to find the Falconeri men on opposite sides of the bonfire, still not talking.
“Did you and your cousin have a fight?” she asked Alex. He turned on her, the fire leaving a red flicker in his dark eyes.
“He’s my second cousin.”
“Why do you always insist on adding that? What difference does it make?”
“You shouldn’t have invited them here, Rosalie.”
“They’re your family,” she said stubbornly.
“Like I’ve told you before—just because they’re family doesn’t mean they’re not strangers.”
“That’s ridiculous.” When he didn’t answer, she demanded, “Why are you being so rude?”
“If I’m rude, it’s your fault,” he replied coldly. “I never invited them here. You did. So you can entertain them. Excuse me. I have work to do.”
And Alex left her standing alone on the edge of the bonfire, as he stomped into the winery across the field.
So Rosalie spent the next hour talking to his employees, thanking them for all their hard work, and trying to entertain the Falconeris in such a way that they wouldn’t notice Alex’s incredible rudeness. The party started to wind down, as people wandered half-drunkenly back to the village or the staff quarters behind the villa. Finally, Cesare came to Rosalie by the dying bonfire.
“Thank you for inviting us,” he said quietly. “We should go.”
The Falconeri children were all yawning, and the toddler, Hayes, was actively crying, being comforted by his mother, who, being newly pregnant, looked rather tired herself.
Looking at them, Rosalie suddenly felt like crying too. This wasn’t how she’d thought the evening would go.
Holding her two-year-old on her hip, Emma came to them. “Thank you, Rosalie. It was fun.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Rosalie said, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why Alex...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Cesare said. But it was obvious he was a little affronted by his cousin’s coldness.
“Well, meeting you and the baby was fun, at least,” Emma added cheerfully.
“And I got to spend the evening with you.” Cesare looked at his dark-haired wife. “Every moment with you is pure pleasure.”
“Every moment?” Emma said teasingly, glancing at her tired toddler and bickering children.
“Yes. Every one.” Pulling her close, Cesare then kissed her softly on the lips. Rosalie saw the love in their eyes as they pulled apart, the two of them so obviously crazy about each other, even after three, almost four children and many years of marriage.
Looking at them made Rosalie’s heart hurt. She would have given anything to have her own husband look at her with that kind of love in his eyes.
But he didn’t. Instead, for the last two months, Alex had barely glanced at her at all.
Rosalie shivered in the deepening autumn night. She suddenly felt very cold.
“Here, I’ll take him,” Cesare said to Emma, lifting the toddler to his shoulder, where the boy laid his head to rest with a snuffle. “Good night, cousin,” he told Rosalie, smiling, as his wife gave her one last hug.
“We’ll see you again soon.”
With many farewells and promises to meet in the future, the family left. For a long moment, Rosalie stared after them, her heart yearning. That was exactly what she wanted. A large, noisy family. A loving marriage. That was happiness.
Could she ever have that?
She didn’t know if she deserved it, after the way she’d abandoned her parents. But whether deserved it or not, Rosalie wanted it. So badly it made her heart ache and swell until pain was all she felt and all she was.
And suddenly, she clearly saw the truth of her great-aunt’s words.