‘He denied my mother’s dying wish,’ he said harshly. He’d denied almost every damn wish of Rafe’s for a decade.
But it was Gracie he was most angry with now. Gracie, who’d let that monster in. Gracie, who stood there looking so beautiful and soft and caring. ‘Please leave.’
‘Rafe?’
‘Leave. Now,’ he shouted. He needed to be alone. He turned back to the villa. Only, he couldn’t bear the sight of it right this second. He turned back again and she was there, right in front of him when he’d been ripped open by a rusted knife. He was nothing but jagged edges and oozing blood.
‘I’m not leaving when you’re this upset,’ she said gently.
‘I’m not upset,’ he spat at her. ‘I’m livid.’
‘He’s an ill old man,’ she answered calmly. ‘What can he do to you now?’
It wasn’t now... It was everything. Rafe had everything, but still had nothing.
‘He exists!’ he yelled rawly.
She looked up at him. It was hot and he was cold and her eyes were so soft, so full of empathy and emotion and infinite patience. And somehow he tumbled into that tenderness.
‘They denied my existence. My name. He had everything I didn’t. Legitimacy. Parents. And he wouldn’t even let me have mine. When he was a child, he had both his parents. I didn’t. He came here with Dad year after year. He had all those memories that I never got the chance to make.’
‘And now he’s losing them,’ she said quietly.
‘I know.’ His voice cracked. ‘He can’t even share them. He couldn’t share anything with me ever.’ He groaned. ‘Do you blame me for hating him for that?’
She shook her head.
‘My father promised to bring me here,’ he said. ‘He said I’d love it. That we’d go on the water together. It was our dream...’
‘But you never got to come.’
He breathed out. ‘Stupid,’ he muttered. ‘As if being here could bring him back.’ He couldn’t bear to look at her. He turned to the lake, blinded by stinging tears that wouldn’t fall.
‘Because that’s what you wanted.’ She wound her arms around his waist.
‘I said I wanted this villa to add to my portfolio but really it was to prevent Maurice from getting it. And, yes, I got some petty pleasure from that. But I didn’t know about Leonard’s health. And it wasn’t really why I wanted it.’ He blinked rapidly.
‘You loved your father.’ She placed her hand over his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart. ‘And he died. Then so did your mother.’
He bent his head. ‘Yes.’
‘And that sucks.’
He turned, seeing her half-shy, half-worried expression. Suddenly that agony eased—just as he admitted its depth.
‘It does.’ He dragged in another breath. ‘What they did to my mother was unforgivable. I never would have let them in here, Gracie. If you had any understanding of me, you would have known that.’
‘I know that you’re amazingly strong—’
‘Don’t. Don’t put this on me—don’t try to make me the bigger person. Because I’m not. You did the wrong thing.’
‘Maybe I did,’ she said softly. ‘But with the right intentions. And you are the bigger person. You’re not like them, Rafe, that’s the whole point. You would never do what they did to you, not to anyone. Not even them.’
He stilled, hating her words. Because she was right.
‘They saw you as a threat,’ she said. ‘And people do dumb things when they’re scared. Sometimes people are just mean. But you’re not.’
He’d wanted to be. The only reason he hadn’t been was because of her. Because she wasn’t. Yet she’d suffered too. Hugely. How had she stayed so lovely, so forgiving, in the face of all that upheaval?
‘Life isn’t black and white,’ she whispered. ‘There’s no way of keeping things simple. There’s just complication.’
‘I didn’t mean to make this a pity fest.’ He winced. ‘You didn’t have it easy either.’
‘No. Both my parents said they loved me. But if they really loved me, would they have treated me like a bone to be buried and hidden so the other couldn’t find me?’ She shook her head. ‘To be pulled between the two for years? It hurt all of us. As I said, people do dumb things when they’re scared.’
Yeah.
He rolled his shoulders—conflicted between ease and discomfort. He didn’t know why he’d been so angry only moments ago. Why he’d thought they could still hurt him. He wasn’t eight years old and alone now. He was an adult and he had everything he’d never had then—security, certainty. His half-brother showing up shouldn’t have bothered him all that much. Yet it had.
‘You were kind to Leonard,’ he said. ‘You’re a better person than me, Gracie James.’
‘My grandfather is called James,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s similar to Leonard in that his mind was going... I recognised it in Leonard and that’s why I felt sorry for him and for Maurice. It’s hard.’
Rafael watched her. ‘How’s your grandfather now?’
‘By the time I got back to London, to be able to see him again, his memories were mostly gone. He didn’t know who I was. He passed away a year ago. It’s his watch I wear.’
No wonder she’d had sympathy for Leonard, then.
‘I took the name James as my surname when I decided to start over. I wanted to choose.’
‘Because being in charge of your life is important to you,’ he said. She’d chosen who she wanted to be—literally. ‘I understand that now.’
‘Yes.’
‘You missed out on so much.’
‘So did you,’ she replied.
He held her close. With that simple hug, a calm serenity flowed, pushing the remaining angry wreckage further away from his heart. ‘Let’s go inside and find your watch,’ he suggested quietly.
‘I’d like that.’
It was in his bedroom. His heart thumping, he picked up the watch with its round face and worn, canvas strap.
‘Vintage again.’ He tried to smile.
‘Bits of history.’ She fastened the strap with a small smile. ‘It’s probably cheesy, but I think they link us—to people, to our pasts. Some building blocks of identity. Maybe that’s what you wanted with this villa?’
‘Maybe.’
Gracie walked over and framed his face with her hands. Her heart ached for him. He hadn’t wanted her to see his vulnerability. His hurt. And she’d just hurt him.
‘Don’t feel sorry for me,’ he said.
‘Don’t you feel sorry for me either.’ She smiled.
She had nothing to give him except herself. Her love. Her honesty. But he didn’t want it. There was no point trying to change him. There was only the moment to enjoy.
‘I hate how it feels,’ he said a little roughly.
‘How what feels?’
‘This confusion.’ He eyed her meditatively. ‘It was easier when I could just hate them.’
She smiled up at him. ‘Nothing is ever simple.’
He shook his head and brushed his finger across her lips. ‘This feels simple. This feels good.’
Gracie didn’t reply. While she was glad he was no longer angry with her, glad he was holding her close again, she was sorry that he was calling time on this conversation. Because this didn’t feel all that simple to her.
He turned away from her and went to the luggage he’d stacked just inside the door. ‘I brought you a present from Paris.’ He held up his hand to forestall any protest. ‘Not an emerald bracelet.’
‘I should hope not.’
He cocked his head, reading her awkwardness. ‘It’s only little. Really not that amazing.’ He suddenly laughed. ‘You really don’t like gifts? You probably won’t even use it.’
She pulled the package from the carrier bag