His Suitable Bride(120)

She was white as snow, her eyes two huge pools of violet in her face. The gash on her lip was stark, and made something clench in his chest, his heart.

‘Of course I knew you’d support me, Isandro. But our marriage wasn’t ever about that. I … couldn’t face the thought of … dutiful support. You hadn’t signed up for that.’

A maelstrom seemed to erupt inside Isandro. He hadn’t signed up for the passionate chemistry that had exploded between them either. Hadn’t signed up for the way she’d turned his life upside down in so many ways. Was turning it upside down. His voice was icy. ‘That’s how you could justify leaving?’ He knew he sounded harsh, remote, but he couldn’t help it. Something was weighing him down inside.

A bleakness filled Rowan’s heart and soul. He didn’t understand. He’d never understand. How could he? And in the face of this cold front she knew she was still a coward. She had left that day for myriad reasons, not least of which had been Zac and his welfare. But also because she had loved Isandro too much. To see him shackled to her for the days, weeks, possibly months on end … to witness his pity … to have him witness her downward slide … his responsibility for her had been too much to bear. A painful ache lodged in her throat.

She looked away and then back. Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

‘I overheard your conversation with Ana. So you don’t have to explain anything to me. I knew exactly where I stood.’

Isandro’s head was beginning to hurt. ‘My conversation with Ana …?’

Rowan crossed her arms. ‘It was the day I’d found out about my prognosis.’ She balked for a second. At the time she had intended telling him everything—until she’d overheard … She gulped and forced her mind away from it. ‘Ana was angry.’

And then he did remember. Vividly. The way his sister had tried to back him into a corner, make him reveal himself when he hadn’t even known how he felt. All he had known was that he’d wanted to protect Rowan from Ana’s vitriol, which stemmed from his father’s betrayal of them all.

‘I hadn’t meant to listen. I came home from meeting Dr Campbell and heard you …’ She lifted a hand ineffectually and let it drop. ‘You didn’t say anything I wasn’t already aware of.’ She prayed he wouldn’t see how badly she was lying.

The words came back to haunt him now. Clearly Rowan had heard the worst of it. Like shards of crystal, moments, snippets started to come to Isandro. The timing of when she’d withdrawn into herself, cut herself off from him emotionally and physically … But he couldn’t grasp the implications of it all fully—not yet.

Her voice didn’t ring with the conviction it had when she’d told him of her illness. In fact she seemed all too brittle now. He felt that brittleness spread through him too. The world was reduced to that room and he couldn’t feel anything. It was all too huge to take in, too abstract. To have believed one thing for so long … and now this.

Rowan stood still, looking at a spot in the carpet for so long that she was beginning to feel dizzy. Then Isandro finally spoke, and Rowan looked at him reluctantly, afraid to see what might be in his eyes. But she couldn’t read their expression, they were veiled.

‘So … what now?’

What now indeed?

She almost welcomed the banality of words. Even though they were really far from banal. ‘I have to go back to the clinic for a couple of days. I’ve been in remission now for some months, but Professor Villiers wants to see me for a routine check-up just to confirm that everything is okay.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘That’s not much notice.’

Rowan’s heart ached at Isandro’s astringent tone. ‘They believe me to be in London, I was going to take the train. And in truth I’d forgotten about it … with everything.’ She flushed.

‘You can take the plane.’

Rowan looked at him, slightly aghast at his easy offer. ‘Well, I … thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

And just like that it was out. Her big terrible dark secret. And nothing had changed. They were right where they’d always been. In some kind of no man’s land.

Isandro’s phone rang on his desk, making Rowan flinch. He looked at her for a long moment, and then with an impatient gesture went to answer it. Rowan slipped quietly out of the room.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Two Days Later

‘I CAN’T stress enough how ill your wife was, Mr Salazar. The fact that she survived at all is a testament to her strength, and the sheer luck of finding that donor when we did. She showed great courage in the face of daily pain on a level that you or I can only imagine.’