‘Gràcies.’ Jordan managed a smile for the housekeeper. ‘That salad was delicious, Rosa.’
She beamed. ‘You are welcome, senyorita.’
Rosa left and for long minutes they each concentrated on their meal. Twice Jordan opened her mouth to speak, desperate to break the oppressive silence, but both times she lost her nerve at the last second and shovelled a piece of lamb into her mouth instead. Luckily the meat was exceptional—unlike her floundering conversational skills. But how did one backpedal from loveless marriages and children to polite, inconsequential small talk?
‘Why did you become a nurse?’
Xavier’s deep voice carved through the heavy silence. Jordan lifted her gaze, startled by the fact he’d spoken as much as by the question itself.
‘How do you know I’m a nurse?’
‘Rosa mentioned it.’
‘Oh.’
So he’d had a conversation about her with his housekeeper? Or maybe Rosa had just mentioned it in passing. Rosa had told her that her and Alfonso’s only daughter was a nurse, married and working in Berlin, so Jordan had naturally mentioned that she too was a qualified nurse.
‘It’s the only job I ever wanted to do. Right from when I was a small child,’ she said, smiling because she couldn’t not smile when she talked about her chosen profession.
Taking care of people wasn’t just what she did—it was who she was. Who she had been from the day her mother had walked out and her bewildered father had needed his daughter to step up.
‘I can’t remember a time I didn’t want to be a nurse.’
He picked up the wine bottle and refreshed their glasses. ‘And why trauma?’
She sat back, lifted a shoulder. ‘It’s fast-paced, high-pressure... You’re helping people—that’s the most important thing, of course—but it’s also...exciting.’
Just thinking about it made her blood pump a bit faster. The only time she didn’t love her job were the days when a patient died. Those days were a brutal reminder of the fragility and brevity of life. A reminder that you had to make the most of every moment and appreciate the people you loved, because sometimes they were gone too soon.
Xavier’s voice broke across her thoughts. She blinked and swallowed down the little lump that had lodged in her throat. ‘Sorry?’
‘Do you work in a major hospital?’
‘I did for several years. In Sydney, in one of the country’s best accident and emergency departments.’
She’d loved that job. Had been so proud to work in that particular trauma centre. She’d beaten over a hundred other applicants for the position.
She hesitated before adding, ‘But I resigned a few months ago and returned to Melbourne.’
‘So you have a job there?’
She hesitated again. They were venturing into more sensitive territory now, but this was ultimately what she wanted, wasn’t it? A chance to talk about Camila...? And yet last night she’d lain awake in that beautiful canopied bed, sleep eluding her, and in a moment of gut-wrenching doubt had wondered if bringing Camila’s letter to Xavier had been an act not of kindness but of cruelty.
Because how must he feel? To have learnt of his birth mother’s identity and at the same time learnt that she’d passed away and he’d never have an opportunity to meet her?
And yet what had been the alternative? To throw the letter away? Pretend it didn’t exist? Jordan couldn’t have done that.
She took a deep breath and said quietly, ‘No. I moved home so I could nurse Camila through her final months. She had leukaemia,’ she explained, a sharp ache hitting the back of her throat.
She glanced down, away from his probing gaze. She hated revealing her grief. She preferred people to see her as strong and resilient—because she was.
‘You nursed her full-time? Alone?’ His voice was quiet now, too.
She looked up and tried to gauge his expression, but couldn’t tell what emotion, if any, lurked behind his silvery gaze. ‘Yes.’
‘That’s quite a sacrifice.’
She shook her head. ‘I didn’t see it like that. Camila was family. There was never any question in my mind that I would nurse her when the time came.’ She was silent a moment. ‘Camila was so strong and brave. She didn’t want me to give up my job, and was upset for a few days when I did. But I don’t regret it. The time we had together at the end was special. I’d do it again.’