CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TODAY WOULD HAVE been her wedding day. Halina gazed out of the window of her bedroom at the buildings and streets of the Eternal City, feeling more in limbo now than ever. The last week had been endless, lying in bed, waiting for the worst to happen.
Since the first terror-filled visit to the hospital, thankfully she hadn’t had any more episodes of bleeding, but she still lived in fear, and so did Rico. They were both tiptoeing around each other, a constant strain between them, caused, Halina supposed, by the new uncertainty that had opened up like a yawning chasm, sending them both into tense isolation.
Any day, any week, and it could all be over. Their child’s life, the little family they’d been creating, the marriage they’d both intended to embark on. All of it could be reduced to nothing. It was exhausting, living with that kind of uncertainty, and Halina spent most of her enforced bed rest sleeping, in part just to escape the strain. How long would it last? The next five months? Or maybe not long at all. Maybe today would be the day it ended. It was impossible to know.
What she did know was that she’d fallen in love with Rico and it was tearing her apart. At every turn her fears were confirmed and the knowledge that he didn’t love her, didn’t want to love her, reverberated through her all over again, a loss she could never get used to. A tiny, treacherous part of her almost wondered if losing this baby would bring its own bitter relief, because then she wouldn’t be faced with a loveless future with Rico. She hated herself for thinking that way for even a single second, and guilt scorched through her, making her even more miserable.
Rico had berated her for not taking care of herself, and had tried to make her eat when she had no appetite due to fear and worry. She knew he was feeling it too, and she wished they could comfort each other in their shared anxiety and sorrow. But that never seemed to be the case; like the ninth circle of Dante’s terrible hell, they were frozen in their own isolation, doomed to a life of loneliness.
The sound of the intercom of the flat buzzing had Halina turning from the window in surprise. Rico was at work, and no one called at the flat; deliveries were left with the building’s doorman.
Cautiously she went to answer the intercom. ‘Hello?’
‘Signorina?’ The doorman’s disembodied voice came through the speaker. ‘You have a visitor.’
‘A visitor...?’
‘Sultan Hassan Amar,’ the doorman said in a tone of utmost respect. ‘He says he is your father.’
For a few seconds Halina couldn’t think. She couldn’t even breathe. She simply stood there, blinking, one finger pressed down on the intercom.
‘Signorina?’
‘Yes, I’m here.’ Her voice sounded strangely tinny and faraway. ‘Send him up.’
As soon as she’d said the words she half-regretted them. What if her father was here to take her back home against Rico’s wishes? What if she got kidnapped yet again? But then she reasoned that he wouldn’t have come to do such a thing on his own. And in any case, if he was on his own she could resist. If she wanted to.
The treacherous flicker of wanting made her pause. Could she really be thinking that way, even for a moment?
The lift doors pinged open and then her father stepped into the open area of the penthouse. Halina turned to him, her mind spinning, her heart beating wildly as her throat dried.
‘Father.’
‘Halina.’ His gaze dipped down to the gentle swell of her belly. ‘You are looking well.’
‘Am I?’ She laughed uncertainly because lately, despite all the rest, she’d been looking as worn out as an old dishrag. ‘I don’t feel all that well.’
‘You don’t? Is something wrong?’
The note of alarm in her father’s voice caught her on the raw. ‘Why do you care?’ she couldn’t keep herself from retorting bitterly. ‘You never wanted this baby to live.’
Her father’s face contorted with a spasm of grief and he started towards her, his arms outstretched. ‘Halina, habibi...’
‘Don’t.’ Halina stepped back quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet. ‘Why are you here, Father?’
‘I was intending to come to your wedding, and then Falcone informed me he’d called it off.’
She flinched, in part because of the stark fact of her father’s words, and in part because Rico hadn’t even told her that her father had called, or that he’d changed his mind and had been planning on coming to their wedding after all. The relationship between her and Rico, if she could even call it that, had broken down even more than she’d realised... But perhaps nothing had been built up enough to be broken. It had all been in her head, the intimacy, emotion and love. All on her side.
‘Why don’t you sit down, Halina?’ her father suggested gently. ‘And let us talk.’
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold despite the warm October day. ‘What do we have to talk about?’
‘There is much I wish to say to you. Much I sincerely regret.’
Halina hesitated, then she nodded. ‘All right.’ They moved towards a pair of luxurious grey suede sofas; she’d spent many happy evenings there curled up next to Rico, watching television or reading a book, pleasant hours they’d whiled away together. It felt like a dream world now.