‘I’mthe problem?’
‘Yes,’ he insisted, his chin up. ‘You’re the widow – you told me within five minutes of meeting me for the first time in person.’
‘Because everyone else always treats me like the widow!’
‘And why do you think they do that? Because of howyoubehave.’
She wanted to yell an answer at him, something childish like,You’re wrong!But he lifted a hand – slowly, as though she were a frightened animal – and smoothed his fingers down her arm and back up again, and down and up, until her heartbeat evened out.
‘I would never blame you for it,’ he said softly. ‘I love how loyal your heart is – that you don’t want to give him up, even nine years later.’
She still wanted to tell him he was wrong. Nine years of mourning was enough and she was sick of being limited by her situation. But she didn’t want to lose – or change – the memories of Miro. Gabri was right about that, as much as it pained her to admit it.
He lifted his gaze to the ceiling. ‘I know if I came to visit, if we kept in touch as… intimately as we have been, that I’d wish for something else, something I can’t ask from you.’
‘No, you can’t,’ she replied reflexively, her stomach churning. ‘This wasn’t what was supposed to happen,’ she blurted out. ‘You told me you don’t like kids. You’ve meaninglessly dated women across the island.’
He scraped a hand down his face. ‘I wouldn’t go that?—’
‘We weren’t supposed to fall in love!’
Oh dear. She’d spoken those words. Now, she couldn’t pretend they weren’t true.
‘Iknow!’ The hint of a growl in his voice was as clear asI love you, too. ‘Do you still want me to come and visit?’
He meant it as a challenge, not an invitation, at least she thought so. She squeezed her eyes shut and whether she teetered towards him on purpose or simply because her balance was off with her eyes closed, her forehead met his shoulder with plausible deniability.
‘I will miss you,’ she said instead of an answer.
His hand in her hair was soothing and she’d miss that too.
‘I missed you already this week.’
He folded her up against him and she let it happen, the embrace, a solution of sorts, when there wasn’t anything else. Maybe this was what she’d come here for today: not closure, but a few extra minutes of being close. What she wouldn’t have given for a few extra minutes with Miro – not that she wanted to compare this goodbye to the ultimate one that had been forced on her.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me youownthe company that optimises electricity grids,’ she murmured without lifting her head from his shoulder.
‘Does it make any difference?’ he asked gruffly.
‘I’m not talking about money – not really,’ she began. ‘It’s the picture of you I’ve been forming. It was incomplete.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Yeah, it was even longer ago that I got married, but that’s still part of who I am. I kind of wish I’d got to know you then, too.’ As soon as she said it, she realised how strange it sounded. ‘I mean, you were married, so maybe not.’
He smoothed a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. ‘It’s like me wondering what you were like before you lost your husband.’
In the pause that followed, Toni felt all the pointlessness of these comments.
‘When do you have to go?’ he asked.
‘Oh, I—’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Soon. And you have to meet Rosalba to sign some documents.’
‘She can wait.’
She wanted to make a quip about his rudeness, but the silence gathering around them was too heavy with reluctant goodbyes.
‘Do we… kiss? Do you want to?’ he asked.
