Never Underestimate a Caffarelli

Raoul had seen the change in Rafe, how falling in love with Poppy Silverton had given him an extra dimension to his life. Rafe had always been a goal-driven workaholic but now he was talking about taking extended leave for his honeymoon, and there were even baby plans afoot. Rafe had spoken of his and Poppy’s desire for a family to love and nurture together.

Raoul knew his brother would be a fabulous father. He had been such a protective big brother, always putting Raoul’s and Remy’s interests ahead of his own. He had taken the brunt of their grandfather’s anger countless times, even taking the blame for misdemeanours that Raoul or Remy had committed in order to shield them from Vittorio’s harsh and unpredictable temper.

For the last twenty-five years Rafe had been the family anchor, but now it was time for him to launch into his new life. Finding Poppy—the love of his life—in a quiet little village in the English countryside had transformed his older brother into a man who embraced and expressed love with the same force of determination he previously used to avoid it.

You want that, too: love, commitment, children.

Did he?

He tried to picture it: a beautiful wife, two or three children, a dog or two...

A wheelchair.

His insides clenched and twisted at the thought of not being able to walk alongside his children from when they took their first steps or to walk with them into their first day of school. Not to be able to carry them in his arms, or to kick a football with them or teach them to swim, ski and water-ski as his father had done with him and his brothers.

If he had a daughter he would not be able to walk her down the aisle one day.

If he had a son he would not be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with him to teach him everything he knew about being a man.

It was impossible for him to imagine being a father without the full use of his legs.

He didn’t want to be a father if he couldn’t be a whole one.

How cruel was fate to snatch something away from you just when you realised you wanted it? Raoul didn’t want to spend the rest of his life pining for what he had lost. He didn’t want to end up bitter and twisted like his grandfather. But how could he possibly settle for a life without the very things everyone else took for granted?

He would always be the one sitting to one side while everyone else was up and dancing through life. He would be the one everyone privately pitied or stayed well clear of in case the blow of fate was somehow catching.

‘Are you in pain?’ Lily’s voice jolted him out of his reverie of misery.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘You were frowning so heavily I thought you must be uncomfortable. You’ve done a lot of sitting today.’

‘I can hardly work at my computer if I can’t sit or stand,’ Raoul said with a fresh wave of frustration at his situation.

‘Have you got a laptop? You could lie down and work on that. It would take the pressure off those discs.’

‘I use my bed for sleeping or for sex, although lately I’m doing neither.’ He scraped his hair back with his left hand. ‘I can’t remember the last time I slept more than an hour or two in one stretch.’

‘Have you tried taking some sleeping medication for a couple of nights, just to break the cycle?’

Raoul gave her a quelling look. ‘I’m not going to be turned into a pill popper, Miss Archer. Dependency is not my thing, in spite of what you might think about my current use of alcohol. I’ve only been drunk a couple of times in my life and both times I hated the loss of control.’

‘I just thought it might help if—’

‘You know what would help?’ he clipped back. ‘Being able to exercise properly. I like being physically active. I don’t feel alive unless I get my blood pumping. I don’t know any other way to live.’

She gave him one of her compassionate looks that made Raoul feel a brute for snapping at her. ‘I’m sorry...’

He let out a muttered curse as he put his napkin on the table next to his plate. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising.’ Not that he was going to, of course. He never apologised. Besides, he hadn’t asked for her to be here. It wasn’t helping him one little bit having her to witness his pain and frustration. He wanted to be alone. He needed to be alone. ‘I’m not the most convivial company right now.’

‘I’m not here to be entertained.’

‘No, you’re here for the money, right?’ Just like his grandfather’s domestic minions, obsequiously pretending they cared about him just so they could collect their wage at the end of the day. He would be a fool to be taken in by her mask of empathy. She was just like everyone else, out for whatever she could get.