The Sicilian's Unexpected Duty(81)

                ‘It’s what’s best for Cara,’ Luca added quietly.

                Pepe knew his brother was right. Although it ripped his insides to shreds, he knew it.

                Cara would want to be with Grace. She wouldn’t want to be with him.

                He finally jerked a nod. ‘Okay,’ he said heavily. ‘But only if that’s what Cara wants. If she wants to stay with me then neither of you are to say anything to change her mind.’

                Without waiting for a reply, he strolled into the private room and took the seat by Cara.

                She was pale enough to merge into the white sheets.

                He was glad she was asleep. At least if she slept she wouldn’t have to remember, or, worse, feel.

                He would gladly give up every organ in his body if it would take away her pain.

                * * *

                The next time Cara awoke, Pepe was sitting on the private room’s windowsill, looking out.

                ‘Hi,’ she whispered.

                His head snapped round and in a trice he was by her side.

                He looked dreadful. Still in the same tuxedo he’d worn to the gallery; what had been an impeccably pressed suit was now rumpled. He looked rumpled.

                He didn’t say anything, just took her hands in his and pressed a kiss to them.

                ‘I’m so sorry,’ she croaked.

                His brow furrowed, but he didn’t speak.

                ‘I keep thinking I should have known something was wrong...’

                He placed a gentle finger to her lips and shook his head, his face contorted. ‘No,’ he croaked vehemently. ‘Not your fault. It was a severe placental abruption. Nothing could have been done to prevent it. Nothing.’

                She swallowed and turned her head away. Everything inside her felt dry, and so, so heavy, as if a weight were crushing her.

                Time passed. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. She had lost all sense of it.

                ‘Has Grace spoken to you about going back to Rome with her?’ Pepe asked quietly.

                She looked back at him and mouthed a silent ‘no’.

                His lips compressed together. ‘Grace wants to take care of you. She thinks you will want to be with her.’

                More time passed as she looked into his bloodshot eyes. He really did look wretched, and no wonder. Pepe had lost his child too. He was suffering too.

                ‘What about you?’ she finally said, dragging the words out. ‘What do you think?’

                He shrugged, an almost desperate gesture. ‘This isn’t about me. It’s about what’s best for you.’

                Oh.

                Somewhere in the fog that was her brain was the remembrance that their relationship had only ever been temporary.

                Nothing lasted for ever, she thought dully. Nothing.

                She had no doubt Pepe would allow her to return home with him if she asked. He’d take care of her as best he could.