“I can… I have,” he shrugged, still watching her reflection in the glass. “It’s yours.”
He had given her the vineyard. His father’s vineyard.
“But it’s your father’s.”
“And when he died, it became mine. I suppose technically your father could snatch it back at any moment but it’s a gesture, Theresa.”
“Why?” She asked helplessly.
“I didn’t want you doubt my reasons for wanting to be with you… I didn’t want it hanging between us anymore.”
“But your mother and sisters…”
“They know about it and for the most part approve of my decision. Not that it would have mattered if they didn’t. This isn’t about them, this is about us. It’s about fixing what I broke.” He finally turned around to face her and stalked back to the bed. “The vineyard is yours, Theresa and if you don’t want it, you can burn it to the ground or transfer the deed to Lily. You can hand it back to your father on a platter. It doesn’t matter to me. The only thing that matters to me is you. You’re the sun I revolve around and without you…” he shook his head as his voice broke.
“I think it’s time you told me about Francesca,” Theresa finally said and he inhaled deeply, before sitting down next to her. Theresa reached over and took Lily from him. Thankfully the baby continued to sleep peacefully.
“Francesca…” he shut his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts. “She’s the kind of woman I always pictured myself marrying. Poised, sophisticated, beautiful… she keeps all her emotions locked up tight, which suited me fine because I never appreciated messy emotional scenes. We dated and got along pretty well. I fancied myself in love with her. It was a very neat, clinical and uncomplicated version of love. I thought that we were perfectly suited…” Theresa tried to keep her expression neutral but it hurt so much listening to him talk about the other woman in such terms. “Then I came here to meet your father and saw you for the first time. Your quiet beauty drew me immediately. I don’t think I ever told you that. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you that first time and I wanted you with a violence that shocked the ever-loving hell out of me. If your stupid father had left things alone, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off of you. But when he forced the issue, he did the one thing that guaranteed I would keep my distance from you. I don’t like being told what to do, cara. And even though you were exactly what I’d wanted, I very perversely kept you at a distance.
“I resented you and I resented your father for messing up my life and my future plans. I went into our marriage, determined to grab that damned divorce with both hands as soon as you had a son. But things got messy… and emotional. I tried so hard to keep you at a distance, I refused to kiss you, I pretended to want other women and all the time I couldn’t stay away from you. I could see how much I was hurting you and…” she watched him struggle to find the right words before he shook his head and dropped his gaze. “At first I didn’t care. I rationalised that it was nothing more than you deserved. But the more distant and closed off you became more frustrated I became with you. I told myself that it was because I wanted to see you suffer but when I gave it any serious thought I knew it went deeper than that. I hated not having your attention. When we first married you showered me with attention, you knew something was wrong but you were always so determinedly affectionate and loving. Seeing that affection and that trust fade from your eyes… it was so much harder than I’d ever anticipated.”
He got up and started to pace again. Theresa watched him prowl aggressively around the room and felt the ice around her heart melting with every word he uttered. He was being so brutally honest with her, some of his words were ugly and hurtful, while others sent her heart soaring.
“Every time I returned to Italy I spent time with Francesca…” he confessed roughly, stopping his pacing abruptly to pin her with his fierce gaze. “I never touched her. I want you to know that. Not in any sexual way. I never wanted to. My mother and sisters kept arranging these little get-togethers with her family and ours; they tried to push us together more often than not. I very rarely sought out her company. I saw her at parties and family gatherings but never felt the need to contact her at any other time. You were never far from my thoughts while I was out of the country. I found myself wondering what you were doing, who you were with, if you were happy… if you missed me,” he cleared his throat self-consciously. “I really wanted you to miss me, Theresa. I told myself it was because you would suffer more, wondering what I was up to… what a joke! I wanted you to miss me because I missed you. The few times I called home you were so distant and it drove me out of my mind. All I could think of when I was in Francesca’s company was getting back to you. I fantasized about the things I would do to you when I had you naked beneath me again. Why else do you think I was always so damned horny when I got home after those trips?” Theresa blushed as she recalled a particularly memorable homecoming; Sandro had returned on a Friday and hadn’t let her out of bed until the Monday morning. The man had been insatiable.
“That morning when you said you wanted a divorce,” he shook his head. “You shocked the hell out of me. Up until that point you’d been so passive and accepting of the situation.”
“The quintessential doormat you mean?” She inserted drily.