From him.
‘You’re a good man, Ramon.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘Yes,’ she argued, tilting her chin up. ‘I do. When I told you I was pregnant, you could have run. You could have abandoned me. You didn’t. You’re standing by my side. By our child’s side.’
‘Don’t paint me as a saint, Emily,’ he warned. ‘I’m not.’
‘You’re not a monster, either.’
He pinched the bridge of his nose and then remembered it was Xav’s favourite gesture and dropped his hand.
‘Come to bed,’ she said, her voice soft. ‘You look exhausted.’
Expelling a heavy breath, he lifted his hand and pushed a stray curl back from her face.
‘That’s my line,’ he growled.
She smiled. Then she caught his hand, interlaced her fingers with his and led him back to the house.
* * *
The next day, by mutual agreement, they embarked on their return journey to London sooner than originally planned. Elena was disappointed, but she understood they both wanted to put Saturday’s incident behind them and have some time alone to process it.
As their bags were loaded into the SUV that would take them to the airport, she drew Emily aside and embraced her in a tight hug. ‘Whatever happens, you and your child—my grandchild—are now part of this family,’ she said. ‘You will always be welcome here.’
Emily fought hard to stem a rush of tears. In a different life, a make-believe life, she would have grown up with a kind, compassionate mother like Elena. She could only hope she’d be as good a mother to her own child. ‘Thank you.’
Elena gripped Emily’s arms and gave her a firm look. ‘For what it’s worth, I believe you and Ramon are going to be fine.’
Not wanting to burst the older woman’s bubble, Emily forced a smile. Yesterday, wandering hand in hand with Ramon through the old city, talking and enjoying each other’s company as they’d explored the intricate labyrinth of winding streets, she might have agreed. Today, doubt, fear and uncertainty had stripped away any fledgling sense of happiness and hope. Already she could feel an unsettling shift in Ramon, his mood when he’d woken this morning taciturn, remote.
She swallowed, her throat tight. ‘How can you be so sure?’
Elena pressed her hand to Emily’s cheek. ‘Because my son has been running for twelve years,’ she said. ‘Now he has a reason to stop.’
The journey to the airport was dominated by silence, and as soon as they were in the air Ramon opened his laptop and Emily buried her nose in a magazine.
She didn’t absorb a single word.
Instead, her mind replayed every line of every conversation she’d had over the weekend with Ramon and with his mother.
You have a kind, forgiving soul.
Did she? She’d never thought of herself as a particularly benevolent person before.
Her mind skipped to her father who’d been AWOL for weeks now and hadn’t returned any of her calls.
Was he all right?
She snuck a glance at Ramon, still focused on his screen, and knew he’d be angry if he knew she was worrying over her father’s welfare. Her tenuous relationship with Maxwell frustrated Ramon. He didn’t understand why she didn’t simply sever all connections with her father. She couldn’t blame him. Most days she didn’t understand it herself.
Where was Maxwell? Holed up with a woman somewhere? Deep in some gambling den, perhaps, losing whatever possessions and money he had left to his name?
A familiar feeling of despair washed over her. When it came to winning her father’s attention, she’d never stood a chance against the lure of the high life. For Maxwell, women and high-stakes poker games had proved far more appealing than the responsibilities of fatherhood.
Why had he never settled? Was he running from something? The way Ramon had been running for the last twelve years?