Public Wife, Private Mistress

Rico inhaled sharply. 'Chiara, you are upset, but-—'

'Of course I'm upset!' Her hands dropped and her breath came in great jerking sobs. 'I had a terrible dream and when I woke up I remembered. Everything. Everything, Rico! Including the fact that you and Stasia haven't lived together for the last year.'

Rico closed his eyes briefly and swore fluently under his breath. 'You need to calm down, piccola. Every­thing will be all right.'

'No. You don't know. You don't know anything' Chiara shook her head and the sobbing continued until finally Rico leaned forward and scooped her into his arms. He settled himself on the bed, holding her in his arms while she sobbed against his bare chest.

Stasia watched in horror, feeling totally helpless. What had induced such a depth of emotion? Was it simply regaining her memory? Suddenly she wished she'd taken the time to find out more about amnesia.

'You have to stop this crying,' Rico said roughly, stroking his sister's dark hair away from her face with a gentle hand. 'You will make yourself ill again, pic-cola. Regaining your memory must be a shock, I know.'

'It's not regaining my memory that's the shock,' Chiara whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand like a small child. 'It's what I remembered.'

Gulping back another sob, she lifted her head and looked at Stasia, her distress both genuine and moving.

Looking at her face, there was little doubt in Stasia's mind exactly which memory was causing the other girl so much anguish and suddenly she felt as though she'd been showered with cold water.

At the time she'd waited to see some evidence of remorse but there had been none. But the Chiara she'd known then wasn't the same person as the Chiara she'd come to know over the past few weeks. And she cer­tainly didn't want her feeling guilty. It was far too late

for that. It was time to move on.

Aware that Rico was looking at her with a puzzled expression on his face, Stasia pulled herself together.

'Whatever it is that you've remembered is in the past,' she said quietly and on impulse she leaned for­ward to touch the other girl on the cheek. 'I think it should remain there and that we should all just think about the present and the future.'

Chiara's eyes filled. 'But-—'

'I think we need to get you something for that head­ache,' Stasia said firmly, straightening and lifting the sheets from the floor. 'And then we need to get you back to bed. Regaining your memory must be a terrible shock.'

Chiara glanced between them, still struggling with sobs. 'You were separated, but these last few days you've been behaving like lovers. Was that for my ben­efit?' There was a hope in her voice that only Stasia truly understood. She knew what Chiara wanted to hear. That Rico and Stasia were genuinely reconciled and then her actions in the past would no longer be relevant.

But she couldn't give her that reassurance.

Rico dragged a hand through his hair, looking totally out of his depth in the face of so much raw emotion. 'The doctors said that you weren't to have any shocks. When you woke up in the hospital you remembered joining us on our honeymoon. Nothing beyond that point. And you seemed pathetically pleased to see Stasia. To have told you that she was no longer a part of our lives would have been a nasty shock.'

Chiara seemed to shrink. 'I feel so bad—'

"That is to be expected,' Rico reassured her swiftly. 'You are still suffering from the effects of the head injury.'

Only Stasia suspected that Chiara wasn't talking about her physical condition.

She tried once more to put the girl's mind at rest. 'You have to stop worrying.' she said quietly. 'Nothing matters now except your recovery.'

'How can you say that?' Chiara was shivering now and Rico rose to his feet with a soft curse.

'I am calling the doctor.'

'I'll do it,' Stasia said immediately, making for the door. It was obvious that her presence was making it worse for Chiara but, short of telling Rico the truth, she didn't see what else she could do. And what would be the point of telling the truth now? It was too late. Too late for all of them.

Feeling unutterably depressed, she called the doctor and then returned to their bedroom where less than an hour earlier they'd been wrapped around each other, their bodies closely entwined as they slept.

For the last time.

She closed her eyes briefly and then reached for a suitcase.

There was no point in staying. Her reason for being here no longer existed and Chiara obviously found her presence a distressing reminder of her own behaviour.

Not trusting her legs to hold her, she sank on to the edge of the bed and. for the first time in months, al­lowed her mind to wander back to that awful night.