Maybe she should have foreseen this possibility…and prepared for it. But Ann-Sophie had spent years telling herself and everyone around her that she couldn’t be abandoned by a father who had never been there in the first place. Now, she was suddenly faced with the fact that she was absolutely not Just Fine, Thank You, despite the countless times she had said it. Because the moment she pictured the way Alessandro had stared at her belly as the baby kicked, his expression a mask of horror, she knew where this was going.
He was going to leave them.
This made no sense when she considered his expressed desire to marry her, and yet she had felt his reaction viscerally. It had been a live wire straight to the place where she had buried her grief. He had found that place, and her instinct was to flee, to go back to Stockholm. She told herself she could. But first, they needed to come to some sort of agreement about the child, even if it didn’t involve the marriage he demanded.
Ann-Sophie had no idea what to do with all these thoughts. The sun filtered through the windows, casting long rays of light across the tower and lighting up the place. She wanted to disappear in this quiet tower library for a while and try to settle her thoughts. Also, at the moment, she was stuck in the chair and too exhausted to get herself out of it. She was so very tired, and this seemed to be the perfect place to take a nap. Then again, everywhere seemed to be the perfect place to take a nap these days, so Ann-Sophie propped her feet on the matching red velvet footstool and let herself drift off to sleep.
She had no idea how long she slept, but when she opened her eyes again, the light had completely changed in the glow of the evening. Also, her stomach was like an empty, clawing pit of hunger. She hadn’t eaten since the plane ride, and she was thirsty enough to drink the moat water. Ann-Sophie wrestled with the chair and managed to get herself to standing. She walked through the quiet halls, tracing her way back to the courtyard, then began to circle the house looking for Alessandro. When she found him, they would have a talk about the way he turned on her so suddenly. A bit of food would hopefully help her get her thoughts in order.
She walked through vine-covered archways and past a pool tiled in blues and whites until she came to a terrace with a table, shaded by a large umbrella. The terrace was covered in tiles in the same terra-cotta with accents painted in bright blues and whites in a pattern along the low walls that surrounded it. Just beyond, the breathtaking countryside spread out in front of her, dotted with orchards and vineyards. The table was covered with a white tablecloth, and on top of it, she spotted a pitcher of water. Relief rushed through her as she crossed the patio, grabbed a large glass and poured it full of water. She drank it in a few short gulps, but as she set it down, she took in what she had missed in her desperate thirst: Only one place on the table was set. She blinked, frowning. Were she and Alessandro eating separately?
A door creaked behind her, then footsteps, and her traitorous heart beat harder. She turned, but it was not Alessandro. It was a woman with brown hair streaked with gray, and she was carrying a tray of food. The woman smiled at her in such a motherly way, but after Alessandro’s comments, Ann-Sophie knew that this was not his mother.
“I am Olivia,” she said, setting a bowl of soup in front of her on the table, followed by a small cutting board with a loaf of fresh baked bread and olive oil. “Welcome to Villa Carandini.”
“I’m Ann-Sophie, Alessandro’s…” She had no words in Italian—or in her native Swedish—to neatly describe what they were. Then again, her unwieldy stomach spoke for itself.
Olivia’s smile grew. “Alessandro told me about you. Please, be seated. He left me with instructions to make sure you are well fed and cared for.”
Her mind immediately focused on the wordleft. “Alessandro is not here?”
Olivia shook her head sympathetically. “He had urgent business in Milan. But I am here to take care of everything you need.”
Not quite everything, she thought darkly, but she smiled and thanked Olivia, wondering just how much the woman understood of their situation.
“I’ll return with your second course when you are ready,” said Olivia and she disappeared inside the villa. Ann-Sophie ate a spoonful of delicate tomato bisque, trying to get her mind around the fact that Alessandro had not only walked away from her, but also felt the need to use his car to put distance between them. With the flimsiest of excuses, no less. Where was the trust he spoke of so pointedly back in Stockholm? Ann-Sophie looked around at the castle-like place that rose up around her and the swimming pool that shimmered in the evening lights. All this beauty did nothing to ease the sinking sensation inside her.
Just as she had thought. Alessandro had abandoned her.
This event should be enough to rule out completely the idea of a marriage. She would never let her child be raised by a father who would leave them. Ann-Sophie cut herself a thick slab of bread and dipped it in the olive oil, so rich and lemony it brought tears to her eyes. Or maybe the tears were about something else. But she wouldnotcry over this man. She swallowed and looked out at the last rays of sun that glittered across the valley until she felt a little less emotional. When the warm evening breeze worked its magic, she tried to look at the situation more rationally. Alessandro’s abrupt change in mood suggested he’d been rattled by their kiss, and for the first time she wondered if he was just as overwhelmed by their situation as she was.
Olivia appeared moments later with a heaping plate of pasta with roasted vegetables and prosciutto. Before she could walk away, Ann-Sophie asked, “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course,” said the woman and sat down in the chair next to her.
She had so many questions about Alessandro, but asking them would show how little she knew about the man whom she was having a child with. Or maybe it was too late to care about that.
“How long have you known Alessandro?”
Olivia smiled. “My sister and I were hired to care for the boys from the moment that Alessandro and Massimo were old enough to walk and get into trouble. And they were definitely trouble.”
Ann-Sophie tried to imagine Alessandro and his brother as little boys getting into mischief. How did a playful boy turn into the man who had so coldly walked away from her?
“Their parents must have appreciated your work,” she said carefully. Nannies were de rigueur in upper-class households, and yet from Alessandro’s comments, she suspected that this arrangement was more complicated.
“Their grandmother hired us,” said Olivia, and there was a protectiveness in her voice. Alessandro had hinted at a carelessness in his parents’ relationship with them when they had driven in the car that Olivia’s answer seemed to confirm.
Ann-Sophie felt an uncomfortable twist of sympathy in her stomach, despite her frustrations. She herself had had a father who had no interest in her, and despite the fact that she had been surrounded by her mother, her grandparents and so many aunts, both those by blood and those by choice, it didn’t take away that sorrow of a parent who did not care. Ann-Sophie looked around at the decadent wealth of Alessandro’s childhood. More money and more luxuries would not have fixed any of the weight of her hurt, and she imagined it was the same for him.
“How often does Alessandro visit now?” she asked.
“He and his brother celebrate holidays here.”
“Does he bring dates?” She bit her lip, wishing she could take her question back.
Olivia paused, giving her a searching luck. “He could. But he never has. Ever.”
Until this unexpected pregnancy.
