“You could tell her I told you the truth about trying to contact you when you first left. We both realized we’d made mistakes and we want to give it another try.”
“I’ll tell her that when I got here, I saw you were absolutely miserable without me, and you begged me to come home.”
“Begged?”
She laughed. “Okay, begged might be a bit far-fetched. I can’t ever see you begging for anything. I’ll tell her that we’ve both grown up and we spent the whole first night talking everything through.”
“And?”
“And I realized that I should fight formy marriage and you realized you couldn’t live without me, so we compromised.”
Dante made a grunting noise.
“I understand you don’t know the meaning of the word compromise, but for my grandmother, can you please try?”
“No.”
Her mouth dropped open. His hand reached over and gently pushed her jaw closed, and he ran his thumb along the outline of her bottom lip, sending a thrilling fizzle through her.
“I’ll do it for you, mio fiore.”
Chapter 9
Walking into the hospital made everything seem more real.
Abby’s heart raced and it wasn’t because Dante had her tucked in against him, with an arm around her waist. While she loved being by his side and seeing all the envious looks from the nurses on the premises, her stomach felt as though a garbage truck had emptied its load inside her and left her to shift through all the filth.
It was an effort to stand up straight. The weight of her decision to hand her grandmother’s care to a surgeon she did not know, in a country where she could not fully understand the language, and in a hospital far from her grandmother’s home, had her thankful Dante’s arm supported her.
Had she done the right thing?
Dante shivered beside her. Was something wrong? But he wore his usual mask of invincibility.
“The information desk and directory is over there.” Abby pointed and moved down the right-hand corridor.
A tug on her arm stopped her. “No need. The cardio ward is on the fifth floor.”
She must have looked puzzled.
“My father was treated here. I know every inch of this hospital.” His tone indicated he didn’t have fond memories.
So, it had been a shiver. She slipped her hand in his and felt the clamminess. “You don’t like hospitals?”
“I’m not sure anyone does. I don’t like being around illness. It makes me feel impotent. I hate seeing the fight go out of someone’s eyes and seeing them become resigned to their fate.” He continued to look straight ahead, his lips set in a grim line.
She squeezed his hand. “Are you still talking about your father?”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “I’d never give up. I’d fight death to the bitter end.” The savagery in his voice told her everything. Watching anyone dying of cancer would be horrific, but your father?
“I don’t know what’s worse. Losing those you love suddenly, or having to watch someone dear to you fade away.”
She swallowed her own terrible memories.
“I never got to say good-bye. My last words to my brother were ‘I’m glad I’ve got a sore throat so I don’t have to watch your silly football game.’ Now I’d watch every game he played in if I could have him back.”
They shared a look of sorrow, both momentarily lost in their own private grief.
“Dante, I mean, Conte Lombardi, I didn’t realize you had an appointment with us today.”
