I knew when he came out of the bathroom and I saw that frighteningly cold expression on his face that he’d decided something. But I never thought his decision would be giving me my freedom. And I never thought that the moment he said it, I wouldn’t want it.
Part of me is angry with myself for telling him I loved him, that I should have protected myself, kept myself safe. But another part of me, the braver part, the part of me that discovered true freedom in his arms, doesn’t regret a thing.
He was never going to change his mind for me, no matter what I told him, and so the outcome would have been the same either way. At least now he knows that he’s not alone, that he’s got someone, somewhere, out in the world, who loves him more than she ever thought it was possible to love someone.
I close my eyes, tears forming behind my lids and falling, no matter how I try to stop them. I shouldn’t be crying. He’s giving me exactly what I always told him I wanted, and really, I should be rejoicing. Yet… I just wish getting what I wanted didn’t come at the expense of my heart.
For long minutes I sit there as my tears fall, debating the merits of going after him and arguing with him, try to figure out a way to change his mind, but what’s the point?
I’m not going to force myself on another man who doesn’t want me, not after how my father treated me. And I’m tired of fighting for the thingsIwant too. He gave me a taste of what being cared about feels like, so I can take that with me when I go, and anyway, perhaps he’s right. Perhaps with time it’ll fade. Perhaps a new life, a normal life, will make up for his loss.
You know nothing will make up for it.
But I can’t afford to accept that right now, because if I do, I’ll lose all hope and without hope, I’m nothing.
I weep for a bit on the edge of the bed, then I pull myself together. I go back to my bedroom and have a shower, and try to think about packing some things. But the only thing I want from here is him, so in the end I pack nothing at all.
Sometime later a meal is delivered to my room, but I don’t touch it.
Part of me is hoping he’ll come upstairs and knock on my door, tell me he’s changed his mind, but even though I wait up till midnight, no knock comes. And eventually I fall asleep, dreaming of his hands touching me, his mouth on my skin.
The next morning a security guard finds me, telling me that my documents are ready and I’ll be flying to Rome, and from there, to the US, where my new life will begin.
In my little sheaf of documents is a note on a business card. The note says:if you are pregnant, call this number.There’s no name on the card, nothing else but the number, written in bold slashes like the note he slipped under my door only a few nights ago. It feels like a lifetime now.
So that’s it. That’s all I’m left with. A note and a new life, the freedom I always wanted, and yet…
Something in me rebels, something that isn’t done fighting, because what will that freedom mean if he’s not there? What will my new life look like if he’s not in it? I’ll have that career and a flat, and maybe flatmates. I’ll even have a cat and one day a boyfriend, but…
I don’t want it. I don’t want it with everything in me. I know what I want now, what Ireallywant, and it’s him. His magic touch and his silver eyes. The challenges he throws me, the arguments he gives me. The tenderness and the kindness he doesn’t even realise he’s capable of.
Walking away would be so easy. I could take this new life he’s presented me with and not argue. I could give up. Surrender. Go wherever he’s decided to put me without a fight, but…
I’ve done nothing but fight him since I got here, so am I really going to give up now? Let him chase me away? Sure, I don’t want to force myself on someone who doesn’t want me, but hedoeswant me. And more than that, he needs me, I know he does. He’s got no one else, no one at all, no one who knows his true heart the way I know it. The way I’ve discovered it over these past few days.
He’s never had someone fight for him. He’s never had someone stay because they want to be with him, because he’s more important than anything, and heismore important.Loveis more important and I love him.
He is my freedom and I’m not leaving.
Slowly and with care, I rip the note up into little pieces, toss them onto the floor and then I leave the room to find him.
He’s going to give me the fight of my life, but this time I’m going to win.
I’ll make sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Vincenzo
ISIT ATmy desk, sipping my morning coffee, every part of me concentrated on the sound of the helicopter outside on the lawn. It should be leaving any moment now, taking my Caterina away to her new life.
It was the right thing to do, theonlything to do. She wasn’t meant to be here with me, her beautiful spirit slowly fading the way my mother’s did, trapped in a life she didn’t want, with a husband she never asked for.
My chest aches, a nagging dull pain that doesn’t go away no matter how many times I rub it. And I can’t get away from how she looked yesterday, standing in front of me so naked and beautiful, telling me she wanted to stay. Telling me that she loved me. Then the brush of her fingers against my cheek…
The pain in my chest intensifies. I drain my coffee then shove my chair back, because the helicopter is still there, it hasn’t left yet and it should be on its way. I need it to leave so I can get her out of my head, and get back to the business of planning my crusade.
I go to the door and fling it open, mentally preparing myself to find out what the delay is, only to find Caterina on the other side.
