Giovanni sat up. He wiped his hand down his face and tried to regain his composure. “I can get a glass.”
“It’s okay. I’ll drink from the bottle.” She sat on the coffee table before him. He watched her as she took a slow swallow. She stared back. Once done she wiped the excess from her lips with the back of her hand. A vague but sensuous light of understanding passed between them. As hard as it was, it was harder to be so close to one another with the barrier of betrayal separating them.
“I had every intention of telling Eve about you.”
“You had no intention of telling me about Eve,” he corrected.
Mira rubbed the bottle between both hands. She lowered her eyes in shame. Her gaze lifted again and each time it met his he could feel his heart turnover. Giovanni had plenty of practice at not showing his emotions. He made sure she didn’t read any weakness in his stare.
“You’re right. For that I’m sorry sweetheart. She’s your daughter. You had a right to know.”
“Fabiana’s death is between us. I can’t change the past, and I’m sure you had other reasons to stay away. What you need to understand is, I love my daughter. No matter my sins, I do love her.”
“Giovanni, I know you do…”
“I’m not finished. I won’t be kept from her again, Mira. Ever.” He sat up.
“I wouldn’t take her from you again.”
“You sure about that? You didn’t exactly come to me willingly.”
“You threatened him, and me. What do you expect?”
“Loyalty! Look up the word! It’s something you know nothing about.”
Mira sighed. She cast her gaze away and Giovanni reclined back on the sofa cushion. He wished she would return to her room and leave him to his misery. Her gaze swung back to him as if she heard his thoughts.
“Can we stop with the blame? Can we accept that we both made bad choices and move forward?” she asked in a soft conciliatory voice that could convince him of just about anything.
“Depends on what you mean by moving forward,” he took the bottle from her hand and turned it up. The dark bitter wine coated his dry tongue and warmed his throat as he drank it down. There was barely a swallow left when he lowered the bottle.
“I don’t want to punish you or me anymore for our mistakes. Eve needs us. I see how natural you two are together. She’s yours. No one will take her, not ever. So don’t threaten me with your hard looks and nasty remarks. I am trying here, and you’re making it really difficult for me to fathom why I should bother.”
Giovanni needed space. He wasn’t ready, and what he might say could drive her from him, because deep inside he only wanted to make everyone, including her, feel how miserable he felt.
“For the record he never touched me.” She put her hand to his knee. Her palm felt firm and warm pressed against his knee, even underneath his pants. He dropped his gaze to her touch and when he lifted it his focus snagged on the front of her V-neck sweater. The crest dipped so low he could see her cleavage and the sparkling solitaire that rested between. Those large brown eyes bore into him and for a brief moment he considered her peace offering. The moment passed.
“That’s a fucking lie,” he said with teeth clenched. “A fucking lie!”
She sat upright and her hand fell away.
“He’s touched you, Bella. No man can be next to you and not at least try. My guess is he tried often, right?” Giovanni glared at her.
“He and I never had sex.” She stated.
“Intimacy is intimacy. He was there for you when I wasn’t. He comforted you. He was the man that felt my bambina kick. I lost two years of our lives, and he gained from that loss.”
“I’m trying to explain, Giovanni.”
“Who asked you to explain?” He drank the last from the bottle and tossed it to the side.
She exhaled a long deep sigh. He watched her closely. Mira smiled and rose, she came over and sat close to him.
“So this is who you are now?”
“Meaning?” he asked.