“I didn’t think this was the best time.”
“Perhaps you’d have kept me waiting and guessing, just like the first year of our marriage. Every month hoping and praying for a pregnancy.” He took two strides toward her, gripped her upper arms, and glared down at her. “I never thought you could be so cruel. The waiting, the hoping, when all the while you knew it would never happen. You were on the pill then.Dio, how did I ever let you fool me again?”
He thrust her away and she wrapped her arms around herself, staring at him in shock. She could feel the imprint of his fingers, reminders of his rage. Feel the pain of his grip, reminders of her guilt.
“Please let me explain. I was going to tell?—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t. I don’t wish to hear more lies.” He moved toward his suitcases. He bent to pick them up and Abby suddenly found her voice.
“Please, you must let me explain. It’s not confirmed that I can’t have children. Dr. Molinari is waiting on tests. I have to have a small operation, and that’s why I haven’t told you.”
He ignored her and walked to the door.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you. Just like you didn’t tell anyone about your tests. I didn’t want to worry you until I was certain.”
Her words petered out as he dropped his bags and raked a hand through his hair. His look was so full of hate it almost stopped her heart.
“I don’t believe you, Abby. I thought you’d grown up. I thought this time we could have a grown-up relationship. A real marriage. But you’re still a child. Still playing games filled with lies and deceit.”
Her limbs refused to move. She swallowed back the tears. “That’s not true. You’re using me not telling you about Dr. Molinari as an excuse to get rid of damaged goods!”
“Christo, grow up, Abby. I don’t care about the fact youmight not be able to conceive. It would be a blow, but there are ways and means around these things. It’s about trust,” he said, stalking closer again. “I can’t trust you. These past weeks with you made me realize what a true marriage was all about and more importantly, that I wanted it. I wanted someone to share the good and bad life throws at you. Someone to love and be loved in return. A wife who would always support me and me her, a real partnership—like my parents.” He looked at her with such disappointment it made her heart ache. “I thought that woman was you. But I was mistaken. I refuse to give my heart to a woman who locks me out, who doesn’t confide in me, who lies to me?—”
“Oh, like you confided in me.”
“When it counted, I did confide in you. I told you everything. I bared my soul and got nothing in return,” he roared. “I can’t—no, won’t—live with that.”
Abby sucked in a breath. “I only learned about my condition shortly after my grandmother’s operation. I’m only twenty-three years old and to be told I might need a hysterectomy… You have no idea what that feels like, especially when the man who means everything in the world to me is so desperate for a child he blackmails me into his bed.” She gave a sob. “How could I tell you?”
He stopped pacing and glared at her. “In the beginning, I understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m not proud of how I behaved. But here, on our honeymoon, alone—after the other night?” He shook his head. “You should have told me. Now it’s too late. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for not trusting in me.”
An icy blast wafted over her, chilled her down to the bone. She hung her head in defeat. She knew what was coming.
“That’s the problem, Abby. You didn’t trust in me. I’m leaving for Paris. I need some space to think. I’ll send the plane back for you to take you whereveryou want to go.”
“Go? I’m going back to Florence. Back to the villa, our home. You just accused me of being immature. Surely we can discuss this like two adults.”
He looked out at the serene ocean, glittering in the sunshine. “I don’t know if I can do this, our marriage. I originally thought having a wife I didn’t love was the best thing all around. Neither of us would be left brokenhearted if anything happened to me. Clean and neat. All I wanted was children.”
She dashed tears from her cheeks. “That doesn’t sound like living. It sounds like hiding, giving up, letting the best things of life—love, family—pass you by.”
Dante’s face was dark and he nodded slowly. “You’re right. It would be a waste of life—mine and yours. That’s why I have to think. I no longer want a wife just so I can have a child. I want more.”
“You have that with me.”
“Do I?” He looked deep into her eyes. “I wonder if that’s true. I don’t think you ever loved me. You left and never looked back. You only came back to me because you wanted to help your grandmother. If I find out you’ve known all along that you couldn’t have children… Then I’ll know you never loved me, and this was all about the money for the operation.”
She took a step forward, pleading. “Please don’t do this, Dante. I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”
He ignored her. “Go back to the villa.”
“You’re taking the easy way out. You’re trying to find a reason to get rid of me because I can’t have children.” As soon as she said it, she regretted it. The raw pain on his face told her that his feelings went much deeper than that. But she was furious and hurt, and she wanted him to stay and fight for her—for them.
Grabbing his bags, he made for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you. I can’t bear to be in the same room as you right now.”
