‘I need to get out and live—see and do everything I’ve missed out on for so long.’
‘What can you do without me?’ He glared at her. ‘No one can give you what I can give you.’
‘But you can’t give me what I really want. You know you can’t.’
He flung his head up, as if he scented danger. ‘So you want to meet someone else?’
‘Eventually, yes.’ She wanted to find someone who’d fall in love with her. Just for her.
He looked furious. ‘Not while we’re still married—’
‘Don’t worry, it’s going to take me a while to get over you.’
She blinked back tears, because the thought of finding someone else appalled her. But he wasn’t going to stop her. Because he wasn’t going to say what wasn’t true.
‘I don’t want to accept less than I deserve. And I don’t want to use you any more.’
His jaw clenched. ‘I’m helping you.’
‘No, I’m using you, Alessandro.’
He hated the thought that she had any control over him in this. She drew in another breath.
‘I’m not going to be like my family. But I’m not going to be like you either. You’re kind, but you’re also a coward. Life hurts. Love hurts. We lose people along the way, we get rejected, and it hurts. But not you—not any more, right? Because you avoid possibilities, chances. Your entire existence is as fake as our marriage. You have so much more to offer someone, but you choose not to. It’s such a waste.’
‘We had a deal—’
‘Just be honest!’ she cried. ‘You don’t love me. You don’t want to be married. You never did. You need to let me go.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT TOOK ALESSANDRO a moment to realise that the loud ringing noise in the room was coming from his pocket, not inside his head. He’d ignored it for so long it had gone to voicemail, but less than three seconds later it began ringing again. With far less co-ordination than usual he pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. He’d never been so glad to get an urgent call.
‘Really?’ Katie gaped, fury lighting her eyes. ‘You’re going to answer that now?’
‘It might be important,’ he muttered.
‘And this conversation isn’t?’
It wasn’t a ‘conversation’ they’d been having. ‘I just need a minute.’
Alessandro stalked into his study, slamming the door behind him and answering the phone as he went. He barely heard Dominique’s query about a major deal that suddenly seemed utterly unimportant. He couldn’t even answer. He couldn’t tolerate the torrent of emotions Katie’s stormy outrage had unleashed. He couldn’t think.
‘I’ll call you back later.’
He abruptly ended the call to Dominque and took a breath. It didn’t help. Why was Katie so determined to destroy what was a perfectly good thing? Why stir up stuff that didn’t need to be—?
He turned and strode back to the lounge, pausing on the threshold. It was empty. One icy thought sliced through the chaos. He immediately glanced down the hall. Yes, her hold-all bag had gone. He quickly checked the other rooms in the apartment, even though he knew. Half her clothes still hung in the walk-in wardrobe she’d used. The ice inside him began to burn.
He crossed to the window overlooking the street—two taxis were waiting at the rank over the road. She’d have had no trouble getting a ride. Or she might have headed for the train station around the corner... It didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that she’d gone.
He discovered the note in the kitchen. A single sheet of paper on the counter, a single line written on it.
Thanks for everything.
Her words coldly echoed the warning he’d given her that night he’d taken her to his bed for the first time... ‘I can’t give you everything.’
He scowled. When had she written this? He’d been out of the room so briefly. She must have snatched her bag and sprinted. She couldn’t have stopped to scrawl a message. Had she written this before, because she’d actually intended to leave without saying goodbye? He’d returned home earlier than he’d meanat to because he’d been unable to stay away...
And she’d been unable to give him even one more minute.
Rage erupted. How dared she? When he’d done everything she’d asked of him? More, in fact.
He phoned her—naturally she didn’t answer. He didn’t leave a message. He paced the floor. Then phoned again. And again.
Sheer fury and shock made it impossible to process anything properly.
Apparently she’d made a stand and moved to get on with her own life. She’d fought for the independence and freedom she’d never had. Good for her, right? But he wasn’t her enemy.
‘I can’t stay here with you.’
That was so unjust. He wasn’t cruel. She’d said he needed to let her go. She’d said it would hurt her to stay. He couldn’t believe that—they were getting on well. Really well. It was all just fine...wasn’t it?
But then she’d said she loved him.
His innards iced all over again. She did not. Every cell rejected that. It was gratitude. Because she’d had so little kindness in her life she was mistaking her response to his actions. He’d helped her and she was overly appreciative because she wasn’t used to it.
And it was a kind of crush. Her want for him was hormone-driven—she’d discovered she liked sex. It wasn’t love. She was too inexperienced to know any different. She was naive and sheltered and she was confused.
How had he gone from not wanting to mess with her to messing everything up? He wasn’t naive or sheltered and yet he was completely confused.
Liar.
He slumped into a chair and stared moodily out of the window.
He knew exactly what had happened. Everything he’d happily avoided all his adult life. Emotional intensity. Vulnerability. Real risk.
Maybe she was right to say he’d never invested that most valuable part of himself. Not his heart. And why was that? Because he’d never wanted to care so particularly for one person that if they left he’d be wrecked.
He’d been wrecked before when he’d lost his parents and his home. He’d rebuilt himself. Now he had power and privilege and the capacity to do pretty much what he wanted. He had everything, didn’t he? And he’d been perfectly happy until she’d come along. And then he’d been happy with how things had been between them...they’d been good.
Why had she ruined it? Why had she pushed? What was so wrong with how things had been?
Unable to rest, he worked round the clock. Unable to socialise, he ignored calls from Vassily and the others. He would’ve gone to Italy and immersed himself in the island—except it was now permeated with her presence and he couldn’t bear the thought of feeling this emptiness there.
He prowled around his apartment like a wounded beast. She was constantly in his thoughts, in his dreams, in his aching heart...
It would get better. Things always did.
But two days later it wasn’t improving any.
Not almost a week later either.
Slowly he realised that for all the challenge in his work, for all the we
alth he’d accumulated, he had nothing he really wanted to hold. The one thing he wanted had walked out on him.
His ‘amazing lifestyle’ had merely been masking an empty core. Katie had ripped off the façade and exposed that painful truth to the light. He’d refused to give himself fully. Not for him that all-consuming, life-changing, bigger-than-both-of-them love... He’d never wanted that. So he’d never let anyone in. Deliberately cut relationships off at the knees.
But then Katie had catapulted into his life and he hadn’t been able to cut her off. He’d been unable to say no to her on almost anything. She’d exposed him, and she’d also soothed him. She’d made him feel so much that was good. But he’d been wary and defensive, and so focused on staying his precious bulletproof self he’d not given her what she really needed. Even when she’d finally braved up enough to ask for it.
‘You don’t want to be hurt.’
He’d scoffed at her words at the time. But she was right.
‘Coward.’
When she’d thrown that at him he’d frozen, his action proving her accusation in that exact moment. She’d not asked for much—only to know his feelings—but he’d remained silent, denying her. He realised now what a betrayal that silence had been. The same betrayal she’d had for years. Her foster-father had never told her she was loved, safe, wanted...
He’d done the worst thing possible to her. And hurting her had been horrific.
He was an idiot, and now he was suffering the kind of pain he realised he’d spent half his life trying to avoid. And he was such a fool because he hadn’t even let himself have the flipside of that risk. He hadn’t had all the good things—time with her. Love. Laughter... All that contentment and possibility.
She wanted family. And she should have it. She should have a husband who adored her, who could fill her life with children and all the warmth and laughter she’d missed out on.
He’d thought he’d never want any of that. He’d thought he’d remain free for ever. But it turned out he wasn’t ‘free’—he was lost. He’d been enjoying affair after affair, as superficial as she’d once suggested. And that judgement of hers had only hit so hard because it was true.