Frantically finger-combing her hair into some sort of order, she hurried out of the room, having decided that the best place to find Raffa was in the courtyard where he had said the fair was setting up.
The courtyard was bustling with shoppers from all over the island, and noisy with stallholders calling out to advertise their wares. She walked around it several times, but there was no sign of Raffa, and so she started to take a more active interest in the stalls. One geared specifically towards baby clothes drew her attention right away. The tiny, hand-stitched garments were so adorable that before she knew it her arms were full.
‘Leila?’
She paled as Raffa took in everything at a glance. ‘I didn’t see you there.’
‘Clearly.’
Her heart sank. Of all the opportunities she’d had, this was the worst possible moment. Her guilty face gave everything away and she could feel anger coming off him in waves. ‘Raffa, I—’
‘Let me get those,’ he interrupted. Turning his back on her, he spoke to the woman manning the stall, reverting to Spanish as he completed the transaction, effectively cutting Leila out so all she could do was stand back, feeling useless.
Feeling worse than useless. Everyone on the island loved Raffa. They trusted him. He had said he trusted her. How did he feel about that now? What would these people—Raffa’s people—think of her? She only had to watch the way they responded to Raffa to know they loved him. He’d done so much for them, creating employment and bringing the island to life again. And she was a nobody carrying his child, a child she didn’t even have the guts to tell him about.
‘Thank you,’ she said automatically when Raffa swung around with her purchases. ‘I’ll give you the money.’ She held out her hand with a bundle of notes, but Raffa ignored them and directed a hard, knowing stare into her eyes instead.
‘Have you had some happy news from one of your sisters?’ he suggested in an icy tone. ‘Or a friend, perhaps?’
Her shocked look answered everything he wanted to know.
‘You’re ominously silent, Leila. Are you buying baby clothes with an eye on the future?’
Her throat was in knots. It should be so easy to tell him her news, but she’d left it too long to do so.
‘Well?’ Raffa prompted coldly. ‘Don’t you have anything to say to me?’
This was so far removed from how she had imagined it would be when she told Raffa about the child they were expecting. She had intended to tell him quietly, confidently, with the aim of reassuring Raffa that she expected nothing from him.
‘Well, it’s a very nice gift, anyway,’ he said, hoisting up the bags up so they met her eyeline. ‘A very generous gift, in fact—so many outfits.’
‘I need to talk to you, Raffa. Can we go inside?’
A brief dip of his head was Raffa’s only response.
Was this the friend she’d thought she’d made, the tender lover who had helped create the child inside her? She had taken far too much for granted. She hadn’t known Raffa was overshadowed by his past, or what had gone into the construction of his new life. No children, he’d said. No children he’d meant. But as she planned to bring up their child alone, she was sure she could make things right between them—if only he would give her the chance to explain.