‘You said you would never be married again—why, what happened the first time around?’
She shot him a scathing look. ‘You want me to spill my guts about my first marriage now?’
‘It’s as good a time as any,’ he shrugged. ‘The sooner we understand where we’re each coming from, the sooner we can smooth our differences.’
Stunned, she stared at him. He was calm, while she was chaos. She had to pull herself together and fight. She drew another steadying breath. ‘If we marry, I assume you want us to live in Italy?’
His lashes veiled his eyes. ‘Initially, that would make most sense.’
‘Am I to give up my job?’ she followed up.
‘Phoebe—’
‘Are you going to give up your job?’
‘Is that the problem—’
‘Of course you won’t,’ she interrupted again. ‘Because it’s too important to you. Becauseyou’remore important than me. Because you earn more and have more power and more people working for you or something like that, right? So theproblemis thatI’mthe one who’ll make all the sacrifices—’
‘Biology dictates some of this Phoebe. You’re the one literally growing the baby. You need rest.’
‘Seriously?’ She glared at him.
‘You can hardly stay awake for more than a two-hour stretch now. It’s only likely to worsen.’
He thought it was impacting on her work? ‘But—’
‘I can ensure you have everything you need,’ he growled impatiently.
Money maybe, but other things? She wasn’t so sure. ‘Everything?’ she questioned. ‘Are you promising to take care of myeveryneed?’
His gaze skittered from hers.
‘No, I didn’t think so,’ she muttered. ‘This isn’t what you want, Edoardo.’
‘What either of uswantis irrelevant. We need to do what isright. I cannot put this child at risk.’
‘From me? Will I not be a good enough mother?’ She was desperately wounded.
‘Of course not,’ he said harshly. ‘I’m sure you’ll be an incredible mother.’
She blinked.
‘You’re thorough. Organised. Conscientious.’
‘I don’t think parenting is like paperwork.’
He breathed in sharply. ‘Phoebe—’
‘I have a job I like and a home I like in London and I’m not giving them up just so you can feel as if you’ve done “the right thing”.’
It was so obvious he hadn’t wanted to propose—it had slipped out in some half-hearted effort and now he was digging in because he felt he had to.
‘You live on the ground floor of a cramped flat with no yard. You don’t even own the entire building. There’s no freedom to play outside, and with that other flat above, your front door isn’t properly secure.’
She stared at him—how did he know all that? And while he might not consider her work valuable, it was meaningful and rewarding for her. She didn’t want to be ‘kept’. She didn’t want to lose her identity and become virtually nothing again. Because then she could be tossed aside like rubbish, as she had been before. Discarded once she’d lost her apparent value. So she would protect herself—her work, her home and her self-worth.
‘Don’t dismiss my achievement just because it’s in a different league to yours,’ she said. ‘Maybe I didn’t have a wealthy family to give me a leg up the financial ladder.’
