A Facade to Shatter

Chapter THIRTEEN

SICILY WAS JUST as Lia had left it, though she was not the same as she’d been when she’d left Sicily. She was bitterly angry. Hurt.

But one thing she was not, not ever again, was pitiful. She’d told her grandmother about the baby, because she couldn’t hide it for much longer—and because she was no longer afraid of her family’s reaction. Yes, it helped that she’d married the father. But she was still having this baby alone, regardless of what her family thought about that.

Far from being scandalized, Teresa had been thrilled to have a great-grandchild on the way. If the head of the family was upset about it, Lia didn’t know it. Nor did she care.

Lia snipped lavender from the garden and dropped it into the basket sitting on the ground beside her. Then she wiped the back of her hand across her brow to remove the sweat before it could drip into her eyes. It was hot outside, crackling. Perhaps she should be inside, but she was going a little crazy just sitting there and reading books.

She was still in her cottage on her grandparents’ estate, but she was in the process of purchasing an apartment of her own in Palermo. Once she’d returned to Sicily a month ago, she’d marched right into the family lawyer’s office and told him she wanted her money. He’d blinked at her in a slow, lazy way that she feared meant he was about to deny her request or refer her to Alessandro, but instead he’d turned to his computer and began bringing up the family accounts.

She’d discovered that she had far more money than she’d thought. She would not need Zach’s money to take care of their baby. It wasn’t a fortune, but it would do.

It gave her great satisfaction to refuse a meeting with Zach’s local attorney when he’d called to say he’d set up a bank account for her and needed her signature on some papers.

She would not take a dime of Scott money. Not ever.

The thought of Zach still had the power to make her feel as if someone had stabbed her with a hot dagger. She was so angry with him. So filled with rage and hate and—

No, not hate. Bitter disappointment. Hurt.

Her worst nightmare had come true when she’d given him her heart and he’d flung it back at her. He’d rejected her, just as she’d always been rejected by those to whom she wanted to mean something.

And it hadn’t killed her. That was the part she’d found amazing, once she stopped crying and feeling sorry for herself.

She was hurt, yes, but she was here. Alive. And she had a life growing inside her, a tiny, wonderful life that she already loved so much. Her child would have everything she had not had. Friends, love, acceptance.

But not a father, she thought wistfully. Her baby would not have a father. Oh, Zach didn’t want a divorce. He’d been very clear that she was still a Scott for as long as she wanted to be one, and that their child would have his name.

She’d met Zach’s parents before she’d left. They’d been nice, if a bit formal, and they’d told her they wanted to be involved in their grandchild’s life. So, her baby might not have a father, but he or she would have grandparents. She had agreed to return to the United States at least once a year, and they had indicated they would come to Sicily as often as she would allow it.

It had seemed far enough in the future that she figured she would have learned how to deal with her memories of Zach by then. She kept seeing him as he’d been that last night in Hawaii. Dark, tortured, dripping wet and so stubborn she wanted to put her hands around his throat and squeeze until he would listen to sense.

But there was no talking to Zach when he made up his mind. And, in his mind, he was a dangerous, damaged man who had no hope for the future. They’d boarded a jet the next morning after the storm on Maui. By nightfall they’d been back in D.C and then he’d disappeared.

Finally, on the fifth day, she’d decided she’d had enough. She’d made travel arrangements to Sicily and then she’d informed Raoul when she was leaving for the airport.

Zach had appeared very quickly after that. It had been an awkward meeting in which he’d told her he didn’t want a divorce and that he would support her and their child. She’d sat through it silently, fuming and aching and wanting to throw things.

In the end, she’d left because it hurt too much to stay. Before she’d walked out the door the final time, she’d gone into his office and dropped the medal on his desk. He wasn’t there, but she’d known he would see it. If it made him angry, so be it. It was the final tie she needed to cut if she was to move on with her life.

Apparently, her leaving hadn’t fazed him in the least. It had been a month and she’d heard nothing from Zach, though she’d heard plenty from his local attorney. A man who was beginning to leave increasingly strident messages. Messages she had no intention of returning.

She clipped off some rosemary a little more viciously than necessary and dropped it in the basket. Then she got to her feet and put her hand in the small of her back. Her back ached quite a lot these days, but the doctor said everything was normal. She hadn’t really started to show yet, though she’d had to get expansion bands for her pants and wear clothing that was loose around the middle. Soon, it would be time for maternity wear, but right now her maxi dress and sandals did just fine.

In the distance, the sea sparkled sapphire. It looked nothing like Maui, but it made her wistful nevertheless. She often found herself sitting on her little secluded terrazzo and gazing at the sea. She thought that if she did it enough, she would anesthetize herself to the pain.

So far, it hadn’t worked. It was like reopening a wound each and every time.

She turned to make her way back to her cottage. The grounds sloped upward and the walk in this heat made her heart pound until she began to feel light-headed. She stopped for a moment, the basket slung over her arm, and wiped her forehead again. Her vision was growing spotty and her belly was churning. She groped in the basket for her water and came up with an empty bottle.

She could see her destination, see the terrazzo through the pencil pines and bougainvillea—and a man standing with his back to her. He had dark hair and wore a suit, and a swift current of anger shot through her veins, giving her the impetus she needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

She’d told Zach’s lawyer that she didn’t want to meet him. Yet he’d dared to come anyway, no doubt to try and force her to sign the documents that would make her the owner of a bank account with far too much money in it. She was not about to let Zach assuage his guilt that way. Let him choke on his millions for all she cared.

The man should not have made it through the estate’s security, but he’d obviously sweet-talked his way inside. A red mist of rage clouded her vision as she trod up the lawn. Her stomach churned and her vision swam, but she was determined to make it. Determined to tell this man to take his briefcase full of papers and shove them where the sun didn’t shine.

He might have sweet-talked Nonna into letting him onto the estate, but he wasn’t sweet-talking her.

She stepped onto the tiles, her heart pounding with the effort. “How dare you,” she began—but he turned around and the words got stuck in her mouth.

Her vision blurred and started to grow dark at the edges as bile rose in her throat. Too late, she recognized what was happening. Then everything ceased to exist.

Zach was miserable. He paced the halls of the local hospital where Lia had been taken. Her grandmother had promised to let him know what was happening, but she’d disappeared into the room with Lia and the doctor and hadn’t come out again.

Zach shoved a hand through his hair and contemplated bursting through the door to Lia’s room. This was not at all what he’d expected when he’d arrived today. He cursed himself for not being more cautious, for not calling her first. If he’d caused any harm to Lia or the baby, he would never forgive himself.

He stood with his fists clenched at his sides. He’d been such a fool, and now he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d come too late.

That night, when he’d stood in the rain and told Lia about what had really happened—what had nearly happened—in that trench, he’d felt like the lowest kind of bastard. The kind who didn’t deserve a sweet wife and a happy ending. He’d hated himself for turning on her during the storm—and earlier, in Palermo. He couldn’t control the beast inside him, the slavering animal that reacted blindly, lashing out in fear and fury.

When he’d shoved her back on the bed, he’d known he couldn’t take that risk ever again. He hadn’t hurt her, as she’d pointed out, but he didn’t trust that he was incapable of hurting her. He’d known then that he had to end it between them, and he had to do it immediately.

Letting her go had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. For days after she’d left, he’d walked around his house like a ghost, looking at the places she’d been, imagining her there within reach. Dying to touch her again and aching so hard because he couldn’t.

He told himself he’d done the right thing. He was a beast, a monster, a man incapable of tenderness and love. He’d sacrificed himself for her safety, her happiness, and he’d felt honorable doing it.

But he’d also been miserable. And once he’d walked into his office and found the medal she’d left, he’d had a sudden visceral reaction that had left him on his knees, his gut hollow with pain, his throat raw with the howl that burst from him.

That’s when he realized what he’d done. He’d sent her away, the greatest gift to come into his miserable life. In that moment, he knew what the hollowness, the despair, deep inside him was. He was in love with his wife. And he’d sent her away.

He’d wanted to go to her immediately, to beg her forgiveness—but he couldn’t. He had to get himself straight first. He had to work on the things he’d shoved down deep. She’d told him to fight for her, and he’d been a coward.

Well, no more. He wasn’t ready to quit. He wasn’t going to quit. He’d done everything he could to come to her a changed man. Everything he could to deserve her.

He stared at the door to her room, ready to burst through it and see if she was all right. It was taking too long and he was about to go crazy with fear. But then the door opened and the doctor came out.

“How is she?”

The man looked up from the chart he was holding. “Signora Scott will be fine. But she needs rest, signore. A woman in her condition should not be working outside in the heat of the day.” He shook his head, then consulted the chart again. “She is dehydrated, but the fluids will take care of that. I want to keep her for observation, because of the baby, but she should be able to go home again in a few hours if all remains stable.”

Shuddering relief coursed through him, leaving his knees weak. He put a hand on the wall to hold himself upright. He was about to ask if he could see her when Teresa Corretti came out of the room. She was an elfin woman, but she had a spine of steel. He’d seen that the instant he’d met her. Right now, she was looking at him with a combination of fury and concern.

“She will see you,” she said. “But don’t you dare upset her, young man. If you do, I will not be responsible.”

He took her meaning quite well, especially since it was accompanied by a hard look that said she’d like to rip his balls off and feed them to him if he harmed a hair on her granddaughter’s head.

She jerked her head toward the door. “Go, then. But remember what I said.”

“Sì, signora,” he replied. Then he took a deep breath and went inside.

His heart turned over at the sight of Lia in a hospital bed. She was sitting up, but her normally golden skin was pale, and her head was turned away from him as she gazed through the window at the parking lot beyond.

“Lia.” His throat was tight. His chest ached. He’d been through so much this past month, so many emotions. He hadn’t thought seeing her again would be so hard, but he should have known better. He’d done his best to destroy her feelings for him, hadn’t he?

“Why are you here, Zach?” she asked, still not looking at him.

He went over to the bed and sat in the chair beside it. He did not touch her, though he desperately wanted to. “To say I’m sorry.”

Her head turned. Bright blue-green eyes speared into him. “You have come all this way to say you are sorry? For what? Breaking my heart? Abandoning your baby?” She waved a hand as if to dismiss him. “Take your apologies and leave. I do not need them.”

His chest was so tight he thought he might start to hyperventilate at any moment. But he swallowed the fear and looked at her steadily. He could do this. He would do this.

“I’m ready to fight,” he said.

She blinked. “Fight? I don’t want to fight, Zach. Go away.”

He took her hand this time. He had to touch her, needed to touch her. She flinched but did not try to pull away. Currents of heat swirled in the air between them, like always. It gave him hope.

“No, I want to fight for you. For us.”

She turned her head away again, and his heart felt as if someone had put it in a vise and turned the screws. Her lip trembled, and something like hope began to kindle again inside his soul. If she was affected by his words, maybe it wasn’t too late.

But it was a fragile hope. He’d done too much to her to deserve a second chance. He’d taken her love and thrown it away. He knew what kind of life she’d had, how she’d been deserted by her father and ignored by her family, and he’d pushed her away just the same as they had.

He’d discarded her when he should have fought for her. He’d figured it out finally. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

“You come here now and say this to me,” she said, her voice thready. “Why should I believe you? What has changed in the past month? Do you dare to tell me you realized you cannot live without me?”

She’d turned back to him then, her voice gaining in intensity until he could feel the heat of her anger blistering through him. Her eyes flashed and her red hair curled and tumbled over her shoulders and he was suddenly unsure what to say. What if he got it wrong? What if she sent him away?

He couldn’t let that happen. He’d do anything to prevent it.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “That is exactly what I intend to say.”

Lia’s chest ached, and not from her fainting episode. She’d gotten overheated, her grandmother had told her. She’d fainted on her terrazzo, though Zach had caught her before she’d hit the hard marble. And then he’d carried her up to the house and ordered someone to call an ambulance.

Now she was here, feeling like a fool for getting too hot and fainting. She was also getting flustered by Zach’s presence. By the words she could hardly believe he’d uttered.

They made her heart sing. But she was also afraid.

“I want you to come home,” he said. “I want to be with you.”

Lia swallowed. “I’m not sure I can do that,” she said softly.

His expression was stark. Terrified.

“Leaving was hard,” she continued, resolutely ignoring the ache in her heart, “but I’ve started to live my life without you. And if you drag me back, if you pull me into your life and then decide you can’t handle a wife and child, I’m not sure I will survive that heartbreak a second time.”

“I went to see a doctor,” he told her quietly. His hand was still wrapped around hers, and she felt the tremor shake him as he said those words.

“Oh, Zach.” There was a lump in her throat.

“I can’t guarantee I won’t have dreams. I’m pretty sure I will have them. But I know how to deal with them now.”

He stood, moved until he was so close she could reach up and touch him if she wanted to.

He pressed her hand to his heart. It beat hard and fast beneath her palm.

“I told the doctor about the gun and how I couldn’t pull the trigger. And I’m taking medicine, Lia. It helps with the fear and anger. I didn’t want to take it before. I thought I could handle it myself. But the truth is I can’t. No one can. We aren’t meant to handle these things alone.”

Her vision blurred again, but this time it was due to the moisture in her eyes. “I’m glad you got help, Zach. Really glad.” She turned her hand in his and squeezed. “But I’m still not sure coming back is the right thing. You hurt me when you sent me away, and I can’t be hurt like that again. I can’t let our baby be hurt, either.”

He looked suddenly uncertain, as if he’d come across a roadblock he hadn’t expected.

“And if I said I love you?”

Her heart went into free fall before soaring again. She told herself to be realistic, practical. To not simply accept what he said at face value because she’d wanted it for so long. She’d been disappointed so many times by her need to be loved. She would not let it rule her now.

“Why do you love me, Zach? Why now?”

He sank onto the chair beside the bed again. His eyes were intense, burning, as they caught hers and held.

“I love you because you give me hope. Because you see the good in me instead of the bad. Because you believe in me. Because you made me believe in myself.” He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring. His voice, when he spoke again, was fierce. “I’m glad I lived, Lia. I’m glad I’m here with you, and even if you send me away, even if you never let me back in your life again, I won’t regret a single moment I spent with you.”

She felt a tear spill free and slide down her cheek. She dashed her hand over her face, as if she could hide her tears from him.

But he saw them, of course.

“It kills me when you cry,” he said softly. “And it kills me to think I caused it.”

Her heart squeezed. “I’m not crying because I’m unhappy. I’m hormonal.”

It wasn’t the truth, of course, but she stubbornly didn’t want to admit she was crying because of him. She’d cried too much over him this past month already.

“I love you, Lia. I don’t want you to cry. I want to make you happy. Always.”

She was trembling hard now, but she turned away from him and tried to focus on the cars moving in the parking lot outside. How could she cross this bridge again? How could she make herself vulnerable once more to all the vicissitudes of a relationship with this man?

“I—I want to believe you. But I’m not sure I can.”

“You can,” he said. “I know you can. Isn’t that what you said to me?”

She dropped her chin to her chest and sucked in a huge breath. She had said that to him. She’d said it and she’d been angry when he hadn’t listened. When he’d denied it and sent her away.

How could she do the same thing to him? How could she be a coward, when he ultimately had not? He was facing his fears, finally. How could she be any different?

“I will try,” she said softly. “That’s the best I can do.”

She left the hospital that evening. She’d thought she was going back to her grandmother’s house, but when Zach turned a different direction, she could only look at him. He glanced over at her.

“I’m taking you to our home,” he said. “It will be more private for us.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware we had a home in Sicily.”

He shrugged. “Actually, it’s a rental. If you like it, I’ll buy it for you. And if you don’t, I’ll buy you another one somewhere else.”

A little thrill went through her, in spite of her resolve to take this slowly and carefully. She’d agreed to try to believe he loved her, and that this could work between them, but she hadn’t actually thought about what that would entail. Of course they would go to a home they shared. And of course they would be alone together.

So much for her resolve when her pulse picked up at the thought.

Zach took her to a large, beautiful villa with a view of the sea. She could tell because the lights of homes carpeting the island below them gave way to a vast inky darkness. The lights of a ship moved alone on that black surface, isolated from civilization.

She stood on the balcony and let the sea breeze ruffle her hair, feeling like that ship, adrift on an immense sea of uncertainty and fear.

“You should be sitting,” Zach told her. “You’ve had a rough day.”

“In more ways than one,” she replied.

“Yes.”

She felt bad for saying it then, for making him quietly accept her lingering animosity. But it was the only thing standing between her and complete capitulation, so she nursed it in wounded silence. Until it burst from her, like now.

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to him. He stood so near, hands in pockets, dark eyes trained on her.

“Don’t be. I deserve it.”

She sighed. “No. I’m just afraid, Zach. Afraid it won’t be real.”

“Maui,” he said, his voice so quiet, and her heart pinched because he knew.

“Yes, Maui.” She took a deep breath. “We had such a perfect time there. I thought there was something between us, and then it stormed and you became a stranger to me. You showed me that I didn’t matter, that nothing we’d shared mattered.”

“I’m more sorry for that than you know. But I was damaged, Lia, and I was afraid of that damage somehow spilling over onto you. You, the sweetest, most innocent woman I’ve ever known. How could I tarnish that brightness of yours with my darkness?”

“You can’t be undamaged now,” she said, shaking her head. “Not in a month. Not ever. So how do you propose to reconcile what you think of as damage—which I think of as life, by the way—with our relationship now? Will the first dream or episode send you running again?”

He sighed. “I deserve every bit of your condemnation. No, I am not undamaged. But none of us are, are we? I’m learning to cope with that.” He paused for a moment. “I found the medal you left behind. I put it with the others. And they’re in my desk drawer at home, where I see them every day when I open it. I earned them with my blood and sweat and tears. And I owe it to those who gave their lives for me to honor their memories by not running from my own.”

A chill slid down her spine as he spoke. And she knew, deep in her heart, that what he said was true. That he’d turned a corner somewhere in his journey and he was finally on the way to healing.

She took a step toward him, reached up and caressed the smooth skin of his jaw. “Zach,” she said, her heart full.

He turned his face into her palm and kissed it. “I love you, Lia Corretti Scott. Now and forever. You saved me.”

A dam burst inside her then. She went into his arms with a tiny cry, wrapped herself around him while he held her tight. This was what it meant to love and be loved. To belong.

“No, I think we saved each other.”

“Does this mean you still love me?” he asked, his voice warm and breathless in her ear.

She leaned back so she could see his face. His beautiful, beloved face. “I never stopped, amore mio. I never could.”

“Grazie a Dio,” he said. And then he kissed her as a full moon began to rise from the sea, lighting their world with a soft, warm glow.