“Why are you here?” Theresa suddenly asked tiredly.
“Because this is where I want to be,” he responded promptly and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Why do you want to be here?” She persisted.
“You’re my wife, cara. You’re having my baby,” he reached out and covered one of her hands with his. “I belong here.”
“You don’t belong here,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I do.”
“You have another life, a family that wants you to come home, a woman you love and who loves you. You don’t have to be here, Sandro,” she shook her head tiredly, tears seeping from beneath her eyelids.
“I have this life, with you. It’s the only one that matters to me,” he insisted. “I have a wife who loved me once, and who maybe... someday, would dare to love and trust me again? I don’t have to be here... but I want to be here.”
“Too many things have happened between us. More than two years of pain,” she whispered rawly and his hand contracted around hers. “I can’t go back to being the naive girl who loved you with all her heart.”
“But maybe... the woman who replaced the girl could find a way to love the flawed man she’d once placed on a pedestal he had no business being on?”
“You’ve hurt me so many times,” she confessed. Opening her eyes and meeting his gaze full on. He flinched slightly beneath the accusatory glare.
“I know.”
“In so many ways.”
“I know.”
“Why should I forgive you and love you again? Why should I open up my heart to a man who would probably crush it in the palms of his hands?”
“You probably shouldn’t,” he smiled bitterly. “But I wish you would.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, tears drenching her pale cheeks and he nodded slightly, reaching out to wipe at the tears.
“I know,” he finally said again, before lapsing into silence.
Her water finally broke four hours later and she was moved to the delivery room. She and Sandro hadn’t exchanged any further meaningful conversation, he’d just continued to soothe her and coach her through the ever-increasing pain. She didn’t ever say it but she was pretty grateful to have him there. Even though he was as nervous and edgy as a cat in a barrel between contractions, he was a solid rock during them.
Four intensely nerve-wracking, sweaty and pain-riddled hours later, during which time Sandro supported her, swore at her doctors, threatened the nurses and seemed to come close to breaking down into tears on several occasions, Theresa finally gave one last painful push. There was a rush of activity at the foot of the bed as Theresa felt an overwhelming flood of relief. Sandro’s eyes remained glued to her face, bright and feverish above the surgical mask they had forced him to wear. He dragged down the mask and leaned down toward her, until his mouth was so close to her ear she could feel his hot and moist breath fanning over her overheated skin.
“You’re amazing, cara mia. So incredible…” she jerked her head away from his mouth and turned her face to stare at him in bewilderment, rocked by the emotion she heard in his voice. But his attention was now on the doctor and the squalling, naked and tiny bundle the man held cradled in his gentle and capable hands.
“Here’s the little lady who’s been causing all that fuss and bother,” the man was saying jovially. “Congratulations Mr and Mrs De Lucci you have a beautiful and perfectly healthy baby girl.”
Theresa’s breath hitched in her chest at the man’s words and her eyes remained glued to Sandro’s face. But instead of the rapidly concealed disappointment she would have expected to see, she witnessed something she would never have believed if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes... she watched her husband fall hopelessly and helplessly head over heels in love with the outraged bundle of femininity the doctor placed onto Theresa’s chest.
Theresa was overwhelmed as she stared down at the tiny, wailing infant her chest and not entirely sure what to do with this baby girl who should have been a boy.
“She’s beautiful,” the smitten Sandro crooned, dropping a large hand to the baby’s tiny head and stroking the soft skin and tufts of still-wet hair, gently. “She’s so very beautiful, Theresa.”
“Yes,” she muttered automatically. “I suppose she is.” He frowned down at her, puzzled by her response or lack thereof.
“Theresa... what’s wrong?”
“Your wife is exhausted Mr De Lucci,” the doctor said brusquely. “Give her time to recover and I’m sure she’ll be fawning all over this little beauty in no time at all.”
“Yes. I’m tired,” Theresa said remotely and Sandro’s brow furrowed. He watched as Theresa absently stroked the baby’s down-soft back, without once looking down at the infant and knew that something was terribly wrong.
Chapter Eleven
“She’s gorgeous, Terri,” Lisa gushed and Theresa smiled tiredly, nodding her appreciation of the comment. Lisa seemed not to notice her lack of enthusiasm, or if she did, probably dismissed it as exhaustion. Rick had been in earlier but was at work at the moment. Sandro, was leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his broad chest and legs crossed at the ankles. He said nothing but Theresa was aware of him watching her every move with brooding intensity.
It was just over a day since the baby had been born and Sandro had gone home only to shower and change and to bring her a change of clothes too. He’d also packed a bag for the baby, filling it with the tiny little pink and white things he’d bought months ago while Theresa had been industriously buying toys and clothes for a baby boy.