His throat ached, and he dashed his hand across his eyes. Big boys don’t cry, he reminded himself derisively. He had learned that lesson when he had been only a few years older than Nico, but as he stumbled into the sitting room and sank down onto a chair his shoulders shook with the storm force of his emotions.
* * *
Sergio wasn’t lying next to her in bed when Kristen woke up. She hadn’t really expected him to be, but the sight of the empty space on the pillow instead of his silky, sleep-rumpled hair intensified the empty feeling inside her. Fortunately Nico hurtled into the room like a small tornado and, by focusing on getting him washed and dressed and ready for breakfast, she was able to put her misery in a box, to be dealt with later. It was something she’d had plenty of practice doing after she had left Sicily four years ago, she thought ruefully. But this time around running away wasn’t an option. She had to put Nico’s best interests first, and that undoubtedly meant remaining at Casa Camelia.
When she went downstairs the butler informed her that Sergio had gone to Rome and would not be back until late that evening. Kristen knew that the Castellano Group’s head office was located in the capital city. She understood that Sergio held an important position in the company but, while she could cope with her own disappointment that he would be away all day, it was not fair on Nico. Her old fear that he would become bored of fatherhood and return to his old workaholic ways was still on her mind that afternoon when she took Nico up to La Casa Bianca to visit his grandfather.
Tito was in the garden, resting beneath the shade of a pergola. Age and poor health had etched deep lines on his face, but his eyes lit up as he watched Nico kicking a football across the lawn.
‘My grandson is a fine boy and a true Castellano. He reminds me of his father when he was a child.’ His voice became husky. ‘But I do not have many memories of Sergio. He was very young when my wife took him away, and when I saw him again he was almost a man.’
Kristen bit her lip, startled by the emotion she had heard in Tito’s voice. ‘Did you miss him during the ten years that he was living in America?’
‘With all my heart.’ Tito sighed deeply. ‘I desperately wanted to bring him home to Sicily, but his mother told me that he was happy living with her and didn’t want to come back to me. I feared that Patti had poisoned his mind against me. But what could I do? If I had snatched him back he might have hated being here, and hated me. And so I waited and hoped that one day he would return. But every time I looked at his twin brother it was a painful reminder that I had two sons, and when Sergio did finally come home there was a distance between us that I have never been able to breach.’
‘Have you ever told him what you have just told me?’ Kristen said in a choked voice. ‘Because, if not, I think you should as soon as possible. Sergio’s childhood growing up with his mother was...difficult,’ she said carefully, not sure how much Tito knew about the abuse Sergio had suffered as a little boy. ‘He believes that you didn’t love him, and that was why you didn’t try to regain custody of him.’ She stared at the elderly man, her eyes bright with tears. ‘Please talk to him and let him know that you did—and do—care about him. It...it could make all the difference to how he feels about himself.’
Tito nodded slowly. ‘Castellano men are not good at showing their emotions.’ He darted a keen glance at her. ‘But perhaps you have discovered this?’ He sighed again. ‘I am old, and I would like to set the record straight with my son while I still have time.’
‘Thank you,’ Kristen whispered fervently.
‘You love him, don’t you?’ Tito smiled gently at her startled expression. ‘I saw your love for him in your eyes the first day when you introduced me to my grandson. And I also saw that Sergio loves you.’