‘One hundred per cent,’ Erika said, sounding almost as dazed as Beth felt. ‘Miss Amore is owned by your husband. He bought it eight years ago.’
‘But…’ It didn’t make any sense. How did Xavi own it?Whydid he own it? And why had he never mentioned it? ‘Do you have the date he took ownership of it?’
Erika gave her the date. It was two months after Beth had started her internship there. If she was remembering her dates rightly, it was around the time she’d been offered a permanent contract.
‘Do you still want to make contact yourself about buying it?’ Erika asked cautiously.
‘I don’t know what I want.’ Her head was reeling too much to think.
Just when she thought she had herself on a vaguely even keel, she was knocked for six again.
The call over, she stroked under Diego’s ears in the way he so liked, remembering that morning when she’d walked into the dining room and found Xavi stroking Diego in the same way.
In the four days they’d been apart, she’d received one message from him. It had been a response to her message after she’d seen the doctor and confirmed that all was well with the baby.
Thanks for letting me know—it’s appreciated. Please let me know when you book the scan.
And that had been it.
Excised again.
Except this time the excising had come from her. She’d been the one to walk away.
She wished it made her feel better about things, but it didn’t. She wished transferring the entirety of the Rosbel Group’s shares she’d bought into Xavi’s name made her feel better, but it didn’t.
Those who said the first cut was the deepest had never lived with the same wound being cut back open with a deeper, sharper blade.
She wished she’d handled it all better from the start. Wished she’d been honest with him about how she felt. If she’d told him all the stuff she’d posted over the years and her bright and happy demeanour whenever she was in his company had been a front, he would have run a mile…
And their baby wouldn’t have been conceived, so she retracted that wish.
Who was to say, though, that Xavi would have run a mile? He’d wanted her shares. He would have done anything for them.
He’d wanted her shares, but he’d wanted her, too, and though it hurt her to think it, the more she thought back on their time together, the more certain she was that he loved her, too, which only made her heart hurt even more. She wouldn’t have believed there was anything left of her heart to break, but remembering how he’d stayed with her all those days of her illness did it every time.
Feeling tears prickle, she closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. After eight years of her tear ducts refusing to work, they were making up for lost time with overtime added in. All she seemed to do was cry, and crying was no good when she was trying to plan her and the baby’s future.
This pregnancy felt different. She couldn’t explain why. It just did. And that made her dare to hope that this time the outcome would be different.
She would stay in Madrid. No running back to England like last time. Her baby deserved to grow up in a city where both its parents lived, even if they couldn’t live together. She’d put on a front before around Xavi. Given time, she could do the same again for their baby’s sake. After all, she was the queen of fake it till you make it. She just needed time.
Her intercom rang, making her jump.
Bloody paparazzi. They’d been staking out the villa. She’d hoped her statement would be enough to send them on their way, but nope. Thank God for Salma. She’d slipped out and stocked up on food…and here she was, looking troubled.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘Xavi’s at the gate.’
Her heart punched her. She cleared her throat. ‘Did he say what he wants?’
‘No. Only that he’s here to see you.’
Gently pushing Diego off her lap, she got to her feet and nodded. ‘Okay. Let him in.’
Somehow, she managed to stagger up to her room. Struggling to breathe, she ran a brush through her lank hair, added a sweep of colour over her wan cheeks and a touch—only a touch; her hands were shaking—of mascara to her lashes.
Looking only a little less like death warmed up, she gripped the banister tightly as she made her way back down the stairs.
