“But, Sylvie, you can’t. This is your home.”
She shook her head. “Not any longer. With today being my last wedding and the buyer showing up tomorrow, I don’t see a reason for me to put off moving to the city and starting my search for a new job.”
Two deep lines formed between Enzo’s brows. In his eyes, she could see the wheels of his mind spinning. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but whatever it was wouldn’t change her mind about leaving.
He visibly swallowed. “Don’t go.”
“What?” Surely, she hadn’t heard him correctly.
“Don’t leave. Not yet.”
“You want me to stay here and watch you make the biggest mistake of your life?” She shook her head. “I can’t do that. My leaving now while things are still amicable between us is what’s best for everyone.”
His darkened gaze narrowed on her. “I’m glad you’ve figured out what’s best for everyone because I sure haven’t.” And with that, Enzo stood and, without another word, he strode over to Emperor. With the pounding of hooves, he rode away.
Tears stung her eyes. In truth, she couldn’t bear to see the estate sold. For the first time since her mother died, Sylvie truly felt at home. And it was with a very heavy heart that she would leave here.
But she’d reinvented herself after her mother passed on and she would do it again. Her gaze moved to the sketch pad on the blanket. She would find a job as a seamstress. It was steady, reliable work. She definitely preferred a job in the background instead of dealing with nervous brides and anxious mothers.
She sighed. It was for the best. Her baby was counting on her to provide a steady, loving home—not one full of drama. Love was fleeting. Hadn’t she been taught that lesson over and o
ver?
Her mother and father had a fleeting love. Her mother used to say that it burned so bright, so hot, that it’d burned itself out. Theirs had been a love-at-first-sight scenario. They were engaged in a month and married within six months of meeting. Her mother had been pregnant with Sylvie a month later. Everything in their relationship was rush-rush. Looking back now, Sylvie supposed that was just her mother’s nature, always rushing here and there until cancer struck her down and trapped her in bed. Sylvie shoved aside the painful image.
Her parents’ love had been short, but her mother swore that it was one of those loves that was so all-encompassing that she would never love anyone else the way she’d loved Sylvie’s father. Sylvie never understood what her mother had meant, but she was starting to get an idea because that night she’d spent with Enzo, from dinner at the awards ceremony, to visiting the Eiffel Tower, to strolling through Paris, to winding up in his arms that night, had been like a love affair in fast-forward motion. It all went by so fast and now all she had were the memories.
No. That wasn’t exactly true. She had their baby.
And unlike her father, who died in a work-related accident just short of her parents’ first anniversary—Enzo was healthy and would go on to live a long life. She had to believe it.
She couldn’t help but think of how her mother had gotten sick just as Sylvie had finished school—just when she’d made it through her turbulent teen years. She and her mother had just found solid ground when her mother had received her diagnosis.
It was around that time when Sylvie had met a guy, not just any guy, but someone she thought she could get serious with, but as soon as her mother was diagnosed, he was gone. It was then that Sylvie had accepted that she could only count on herself. It was a hard-learned lesson and one she shouldn’t forget.
And that was why she needed to end things here with Enzo. No more kisses. No more physical contact of any sort because where they were concerned one thing just naturally led to another and that wasn’t helping either of them.
No more excuses. No more delays. It was time she left once and for all.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SYLVIE WAS GONE.
It was for the best.
No matter how many times Enzo told himself that it didn’t feel like it was for the best. Still, it wasn’t like he couldn’t drive to visit her whenever he wanted. After all, when the estate was sold, he’d be moving, too. But now with news of the baby, he was rethinking his plans to move to France. That was a lot farther from Sylvie and the baby than he wanted to be.
But the problem was that she’d moved before they’d had time to sort out the future and make arrangements concerning the baby. He’d wanted to stop her from leaving, but what did he have to offer her? His life was in disarray. He didn’t even know where he’d be sleeping next month.
After weather delays, the buyer, Mr. Renezo, had arrived a day late and had enjoyed everything about the estate—that was before the winds and wildfire took a distinctive turn. The fire was creeping toward the Bartolini estate—Enzo’s home. Firefighting efforts were hampered by wind gusts that jumped fire lines.
In the wine-tasting room, Enzo had just sat down with Mr. Renezo and their attorneys to sign the sale papers. Enzo hadn’t eaten that day. His stomach was bothering him. He blamed it on his nagging headache. All of Sylvie’s reasons for him not to sell kept nagging at him.
Though the wildfire troubled Mr. Renezo, he was still willing to buy the estate so long as the fire didn’t touch the property. That was a big if and they both knew it. But since the man had taken time from his busy schedule to fly in, they were ironing out the details.
The problem was that Mr. Renezo didn’t want to keep the estate as it was. The man planned to destroy many of the buildings Enzo’s father had built, including the little house where Sylvie had stayed. Even the main house wouldn’t be recognizable when this man was done. Any memory of Enzo’s family would be wiped away.
Part of Enzo realized when the sale was complete that it was Mr. Renezo’s property to do with as he pleased, but the other part of him couldn’t reconcile himself to the fact that his childhood home would no longer exist as he’d always known. When he’d started down this road, he’d never realized just how difficult it was going to become.