Carina tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Mama Conte cackled. “Oh, my, I knew when they showed up they lied about being married. I also knew they were perfect together, so I arranged the priest to come to the house.”
Carina’s mouth fell open. Her mother had fallen sick and requested Maggie and Michael to be married in front of her. Amazing. The whole time her mother knew everything, and planned her own coup.
“You’re ruthless. Why didn’t I know this?”
“I’m a mother. We do what we need for our children when they need a push. Now if I can only get Julietta to look at a man rather than a spreadsheet.”
Carina laughed. “Good luck.”
Carina reached out and took her mother in her arms. The familiar scent of baking and powder and comfort swarmed around her and soothed her soul. “I love you, Mama.”
“And I love you, my sweet girl.”
They stayed in each other’s arms for a while before Carina felt strong enough to let go.
• • •
It was time.
Carina stood outside with Gabby on her arm.
The sun poured warm over her skin and the dove’s white feathers gleamed. “I love you, sweet girl.” She stroked her downy chest. The bird cocked her head and cooed as if sensing her good-bye. Carina hesitated. She knew she’d never see Gabby again, knew she’d fly to her home and leave her behind, completely healed.
The lightbulb moment clicked on and splintered in a thousand pieces.
Max loved her.
Hadn’t she doubted herself for too long? When was it time to grab for her happiness, with a clear understanding she was deserving of Maximus Gray and everything he had to offer? These past few weeks without him showed her she could stand on her own now. Go after her dreams. Fail and not fall apart. Ask for what she wanted without fear.
She could live without him, but she didn’t want to.
Her husband loved her, but he needed a woman who was worthy. She never believed in herself enough to give him everything, always afraid he’d realize she wasn’t good enough.
Her mother’s words swirled in her head and made her dizzy.
Isn’t it time you believe in yourself?
Yes.
“It’s time to fly, Gabby.”
Carina threw up her arm. The dove’s wings flapped and she took flight. Soaring gracefully up into the sky, her white wings stark against the wood of the trees, she watched her disappear. Fat puffy clouds floated by, until there was nothing left.
Her tummy steadied. A deep knowledge pulsed from within. She trusted the instinct and realized it was time to move forward. Time to be the woman she was always meant to be.
Time to claim her husband.
Chapter Sixteen
Max looked up at the sign over the trendy gallery in SoHo.
Carina’s name was scrawled in fancy calligraphy, and cheery white lights strung around the outside of the space caught the attention of onlookers. He dragged in a lungful of air and hoped he had enough strength to get through the evening.
The invitation to her first show was both startling and ironic. Pride choked him. His talented, beautiful wife finally knew her worth and he wasn’t here to celebrate with her. But he couldn’t deny the need to see her one more time in her glory. Needed to lay his gaze on her work, while he remembered making love to her in the workroom as he covered her in chocolate body paint.
His gut coiled into a solid ball of regret.
Max opened the door and walked in.
The space was large and open, with wide pillars naturally separating the room into quadrants. A full bar and cocktail waiters strolled around giving out champagne, wine, and a variety of appetizers. Crowds milled around in various groups, chatting and laughing as they made their way around the room. His gaze went directly to the right corner, almost as if he scented her presence.
She threw back her head and laughed at something a man said. Her long black dress shimmered under the light. Her dark curls were pinned up high on her head and tamed, but Max knew one slide of the pin would make that silky mess tumble over her shoulders in wild abandon. Her eyes glowed with an inner joy and confidence he’d never seen before.
Yes. She was happy without him.
Choking back his emotion, he turned away and walked to the first display.
Shock held him immobile.
He expected portraits with heart and soul, an easy warmth she always translated in the few pieces of her work he’d been lucky enough to see. These seemed like they were from a different artist.
Raw and gritty, shadowed in black, gray, and an occasional slice of red, the couples on the canvas were displayed in different erotic poses. A woman arched against the wall as her lover pressed his lips to her naked breasts. The bodies pulsed with an earthy sensuality but teetered right on the border, as the window sketched on the right seemed to be a mirror between privacy and the outside world. The onlooker seemed almost a voyeur to the scene, stretching the mind enough so one needed to keep looking at the painting.