Pregnancy Of Passion
It had only been as he sat there forced to witness an emotional pain so profound it pounded his heart like a sledgehammer that he had realized the true extent of his feelings for her. He loved her.
Why did that come as such a shock? No other emotion could explain how completely necessary she was to him. He had existed not lived, the past year while she had avoided him.
And, like an idiot he had denied the emotion, preferring to believe he was righting a wrong done.
Admitting he had been prompted by love would have given her too much power over him. So he had protected his vulnerability, only to destroy his chance at happiness with the one woman that mattered.
She believed he had thought she was not as good as Annemarie. Porca biserial She could believe he still felt that way, for all he knew.
The conversation he had had with Francesco had been so short of so little consequence, he had allowed himself to forget it. It had happened two days after Elisa’s arrival in Sicily. He too was visiting his family home and had already spent one evening and an afternoon in her company.
His response to her had been so strong that he had reacted by going to Francesco and casually mentioning the idea of marriage between himself and Annemarie. Anything to avoid being controlled by the violence of feeling Elisa provoked in him. Francesco had shrugged and said he would not be adverse to joining their two families, but that had been the extent of it.
Salvatore had never once attempted to court Annemarie but he doubted that would make any difference to Elisa. Not in her current state, definitely. She had reacted like a woman betrayed and he did not blame her.
His own stupidity had led to such a pass.
She hated him when he had finally come to the realization that he loved her and needed her more than he needed life-giving sustenance.
He tossed back the Scotch and poured himself another glass.
Elisa tossed in the bed the covers twisting around her legs, and fought the memory of Salvatore’s face when she had sent him away. He had looked devastated.
Why?
OK, so she was probably pregnant with his baby. He no doubt didn’t want her tearing off to parts unknown again, but she hadn’t threatened to do that. She hadn’t even said she wanted to call off the wedding. As much as she hurt she could not quite make those words come out of her mouth.
They were too permanent.
A lifetime without him elicited more fear and pain than the knowledge that he had thought so little of her last summer.
Last summer. Those two words blinked like a caution light at a four-way stop in her mind. She’d been reacting as if this revelation was about something recent something now. Only it wasn’t.
Salvatore had told her why he’d thought such stupid things about her. Because of a misunderstanding over something her father had said. And what had Salvatore said about that, besides a very uncharacteristic apology? Oh yes…that he had wanted her so much he had needed to believe she wasn’t a virgin so he could have her.
Because he hadn’t been thinking marriage.
He was thinking it now, though, and according to him he’d been married to her in his mind since she told him about the baby. After Sofia, he’d been afraid of strong passion, just as she had been afraid of depending on anyone after growing up the unwanted and illegitimate daughter of a famous actress.
Was she still afraid to depend on Salvatore? Was that why she had reacted so strongly to her father’s news and put the worst possible connotation on Salvatore’s actions and motives? She had believed the worst of him because then he could not let her down as she had been let down so many times before.
She’d also been confusing unresolved emotional pain from her miscarriage with what she felt now.
So, she’d rejected him.
A rejection that had hurt.
If he didn’t care about her, she could not hurt him. It followed, then, that he cared. Guilt thwarted would never have put that look on his face.
Giving up on getting any sleep with things unresolved between her and Salvatore Elisa threw back the covers and climbed out of bed.
She went looking for Salvatore, but she didn’t find him in their bedroom. So, she went downstairs.
She tracked him down in the library. He was sprawled in a dark brown leather armchair, his shirt undone, his hand wrapped around an empty glass. He wasn’t asleep though’ his eyes were open and staring with bloodshot intensity at her.
‘Salvatore?”
‘What do you want, Elisa?” His perfect diction slurred the words together, so she could barely understand them.