CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ANNA WIPED ANOTHER pesky tear off her cheek as she propped her feet up on the metal railing of the balcony surrounding the rooftop. Someone had dragged an old metal chair up and left it there. She’d spent her first Sunday back, the morning she should have been at the wedding breakfast, painting it a yellow so bright it almost made her eyes hurt to look at in the direct sunlight.

But she’d needed something cheery. In the week since the wedding reception, she’d spent every morning and every evening on the roof, sipping a latte in the morning and a glass of wine at night as she evaluated her drawings of the day.

Thankfully, Sylvie Smythe had helped keep her mind off things. Her partnership with the legendary designer would be announced on Monday, followed by a whirlwind tour of Sylvie’s existing European warehouses and then a trip across the sea to a new textile mill opening up next month just outside her old hometown.

Kess, who had dropped by to lend an ear and brought a bottle of wine, had pronounced the opening of the mill as fate. She’d also denounced Antonio as the “biggest ass on the planet” and offered to set Anna up with a male model from Sweden that she promised would fulfill every one of Anna’s dreams.

A sigh escaped her. She couldn’t regret having Antonio as her first lover. Unfortunately, she suspected that every relationship she would have from here on out would be overshadowed by loving and losing him. Again.

Except this time, she’d been mature enough to see past the cruel words. Antonio had been hurting. He hadn’t told her why, but she had made her own deductions. Seeing William, knowing he had been injured in a car accident the same week Antonio had ended their friendship. The way Antonio had tensed up in the car ride on the way down the mountain from the restaurant, how he never drove, his nightmarish mumblings in the night. His attempted rejection had bounced off her this time. No, what had hurt the most was that she had shared everything with him about her life, her fears, her insecurities, allowed him to pry into her hopes and dreams and talk her up.

Yet he hadn’t trusted her enough to do the same.

Her hands curled around her mug of coffee, savoring the warmed ceramic. Fall had started to slip in early as August had turned to September. A cool wind blew through the streets, carrying the occasional leaf up over the rooftops. She stood and walked to the railing. The horn of a scooter filled the narrow alleyway and brought a sad smile to her face. That was the one thing they hadn’t done in Positano: ride a scooter up and down the hilly streets. She’d asked, but Antonio had made excuses or whisked her away to something else every time.

She’d thought at first he hadn’t wanted to look silly. She could hear his voice in her head, deep and with a faintly horrified tone. “A billionaire on a scooter?”

Now she knew better. Antonio didn’t trust himself. Not to drive, not to love. Not to be happy. Amazing how much growing up and becoming stronger had done for her. Back then, the part that had hurt the most had been him not loving her back. What hurt now was knowing Antonio would probably keep himself in that hellish prison he’d created for himself for a very long time, possibly forever.

A buzzing drew her attention away from the rooftops of Paris. She padded back down the circular stairs and rushed to her front door where a frazzled-looking delivery woman stood, a box under her arm.

“Bonjour.” The woman shoved a clipboard at her, showed her where to sign and then pushed the box into Anna’s arms before disappearing back down the narrow hallway. Anna glanced at the label and savored the little thrill that shot through her veins. The first true burst of happiness she’d felt since she’d woken up to an empty bed.

She brought the box inside and unwrapped it by the window. The standard cardboard shipping container contained a sturdier box, plain white with a small note on top in loopy cursive.

Congratulations on the upcoming line.

The wish from a shopkeeper she’d only met once made her smile. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, then opened them as she lifted the lid.

She had to rear back to keep tears from falling on the mounds of red silk inside. She reached inside, stroked the fabric. She’d accused Antonio of living in the past. Yet as she’d clicked through the photos of her and Antonio’s time together, available online through a variety of media outlets, she’d seen images of herself touching the red silk that first full day in town. The silk she’d walked away from because she’d been unsure. After everything she’d accomplished, and still she’d hesitated.

No more.

Even if Antonio couldn’t move forward, she would. For herself and in honor of the time they’d shared. And the possibility of what they could have been.

She reached into the box and pulled out the first bolt of fabric. She had some work to do.

Antonio stared down at the advanced copy of the November issue of the luxury fashion magazine. Had it really only been six weeks since he’d kicked her out of his life?

Anna had accomplished a lot in six weeks. Photos of her and Sylvie Smith had popped up everywhere. Despite his aversion to social media, he’d kept up with her daily posts on Instagram and what she was working on in her Paris flat. Usually, the camera was focused on her fabric, her sketches, her latest creation. But once in a while her hand appeared, or her feet crossed at the ankle as she sat on her rooftop holding up a square of fabric to the setting sun.

Ridiculous how much he savored those glimpses of her.

The media interest had initially flared when Sylvie Smythe had announced a partnership with up-and-coming designer Anna Vega. Each mention of Antonio had been met with a shy smile and a “No comment” from Anna and a snarky “Do you want to know about her work or not?” from Sylvie.

His brothers, mother and even his father had also been pestering him with texts and calls. But after the wedding breakfast, when he’d lied through his teeth that Anna had had to hurry back to Paris for an amazing opportunity, he’d disappeared to Positano to oversee the final phases before the grand opening Mornings were for reports. Afternoons for reviewing the work done that day.

And evenings...most evenings he spent holed up in his room, avoiding the balcony like the plague and sleeping on the couch. The couple of times he ventured into town, he avoided the places that reminded him of Anna. Hard to do when he saw her every time he passed someone eating lemon sorbet or sipping a glass of wine. Seeing couples zip by on scooters was the hardest. He knew she’d been crestfallen when he’d said no. It was absurd that even now he wouldn’t get behind the wheel. How much damage could he do going ten miles an hour up and down teeny streets?

It hadn’t been worth the risk to find out.

He was more than aware of the double standard he’d imposed, being so proud of Anna’s journey to finding her own inner strength while he clung to the ruins of his own past. The nightmares kept him from picking up the phone, calling her or sending a quick text of congratulations, even if his heart fought him. They still plagued him, every night but now with a twist; no longer William’s face but Anna’s covered in blood and broken glass.

So different from the beautiful face gazing up at him. Anna’s face, smiling at something off-camera as she sat on the floor of her flat surrounded by silk. Her silk, he’d realized when he’d seen the magazine on a stand outside a little shop in town and bought it before he’d been able to talk himself out of it. The title declared Anna Vega: Rising Star of Sustainable Fashion. The diamond bracelet had sparkled from where it sat on the corner of his desk, cold and hard. The opposite of Anna. He’d seen her looking at the silk, had thought of purchasing it for her. But it had unnerved him, the thought of doing something so personal, so he’d bought the most impersonal thing he could find.

...hanging on to the past is more important to you than looking toward the future.

His hands tightened on the magazine. Perhaps he would go down to the gym this evening, run on the treadmill until his body was so exhausted he couldn’t think of blue-amber eyes and a smile that made him warm and possessive. His fingers settled on the pages. Did he dare open it? Further torture himself by reading her words, seeing more photos?

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the number and answered.

“Yes, Paul?”

“Sir, your guests are here.”

“My what? Paul, we don’t open for another two weeks.”

“That’s what I told them, sir, but—”

“¡Mi hermano! Call off your guard dog and get your stupid culo down here.”

The muscles in his neck tightened as Alejandro’s voice rang out.

“What are you doing here?”

A scuffling sound ensued, followed by an even deeper voice. “We’re here to knock some sense into you.”

Adrian. He leaned back in his chair and tossed the magazine onto his desk. It was only a matter of time before his older brothers came knocking.

“I don’t know if I have any rooms available.”

“Of course you do.”

Antonio rolled his eyes. Adrian always had been a self-assured bastard. He’d assumed some of his brother’s mannerisms; aloofness, professionalism, an air of confidence that made most people believe what he said. But now that he heard it tossed back at him, he had to wonder if he sounded that pompous.

“You wouldn’t turn away your pregnant sisters-in-law, would you?”

His eyes fluttered shut. Dear God, had they brought the whole damned family?

“Antonio?”

His eyes flew open at the sound of Isabella’s voice. Apparently, they had.

“Please may we come up?”

With a long-suffering sigh, he told Paul to bring them up. Minutes later, his brothers and mother crowded into his office. The room that had felt so large when he’d claimed it as his own shrunk as Adrian stalked to his desk, Alejandro tossed himself into one of the leather chairs, and Isabella walked around the room, her maternal curiosity making her stop and examine everything from the books on his shelves to the framed pictures.

“Where are Calandra and Everleigh?”

“Downstairs with Father,” Alejandro said.

“Father’s here, too?”

Could this day get any worse?

“What happened between you and Anna?” Adrian demanded, placing his hands on the desk and leaning forward. A power move meant to intimidate. But Antonio had learned from the best. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers forming a steeple as he met Adrian’s dark stare.

“None of your concern.”

“It is when my little brother is ruining his life. Again.”

Anger surged through him and propelled him to his feet.

“Careful, hermano.” His voice turned to ice, even as his gaze flitted to Isabella. He didn’t want her knowing his shameful secret. He was the only man in this family who hadn’t caused her pain. To do so now, after so many years and when she was going through her own hell with her husband...

“I know.”

He froze then looked away. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t bear to see the disappointment, the hurt.

The rejection.

“How could you?” he managed to grit out. He had never once hit his brothers. But now his fingers itched to do just that.

“I didn’t.” Adrian nodded toward the door. “He did.”

Antonio’s head swung around, his pulse pounding so loud he couldn’t believe it didn’t echo off the walls of his office. A room that suddenly felt like a prison as William Tomàs appeared in the doorway.

The details he’d glimpsed at the wedding—the cane, the scar, the slight drag to his right foot—all sharpened with less than twenty feet between them. When William smiled, the scar stretched into a gruesome curve.

“Hello, Tony.”

Say something.

“William.”

William walked into the room. Shuffled, was more like it, each step intentional, the click of the cane on the hardwood floor deafening and damning.

“It’s been a long time.”

“Sí.”

William drew closer, his eyes searching Antonio’s face.

“You stupid bastard.”

After the letter William had written him, the edges now worn, the ink faded from being unfolded, read and refolded so many times, he hadn’t expected to hear such words from his former friend. “What?”

“Did you even read the letter I wrote you back?”

Antonio frowned, aware that four pairs of eyes were watching him intently.

“Yes. Doesn’t change that I caused the car accident that left you disabled, William. You didn’t want to go that night, and I pushed you.” His hand jabbed toward the cane. “If I hadn’t pushed you, you wouldn’t need that thing.”

William frowned. “I didn’t want to go because I had just broken up with Abigail and was wallowing in self-pity. But I agreed, didn’t I? And as I recall, I was egging you on, telling you to go faster.”

A dim echo sounded in his head. William’s voice. Seriously? I came out for you to drive like an abuela? Punch it!

William walked around the desk and put his hand on Antonio’s shoulder. If he saw Antonio flinch, he didn’t mention it.

“I’ve moved on, Tony.” A grin split his face. “I’m in my final year of medical school in America. The accident set me on a path I’d never even thought of. This time next year, I’ll be completing my residency in pediatrics.”

Antonio swallowed hard. “I didn’t know.”

“I figured after you didn’t respond to my last letter that you didn’t have an interest in being friends anymore.” The grin disappeared as William’s jaw tightened. “I had no idea it was because you were still carrying so much guilt. And if that’s the reason you’re no longer with Anna, then you’re a damned fool.”

A muscle ticced in Antonio’s cheek. “The doctor told me you didn’t remember what happened. But I do. I relive it over and over again. The pain I caused you, the time I stole from you. Do you know why I asked you to go with me that night?” he bit out. Suddenly, he didn’t care. Let them know everything. Then they could all know what he’d known all along; that he was unworthy. “Because I was falling for Anna. My best friend, seventeen years old, still in school, and I wanted to go do something wild so I could stop thinking about her.”

The words hung in the air, so silent, he could hear the varied breathing of everyone staring at him.

Alejandro broke the silence.

“Good God, man, that’s why?”

“Yes,” Antonio snapped. “Even if I didn’t deserve to be happy after what I did, I’m too selfish for someone like Anna. She deserves the best. That’s not me. Never will be.”

“Antonio, there was only two years difference between you two,” Adrian pointed out matter-of-factly. “Had you dated her the year before, you would have both still been in school.”

When phrased like that, his attraction suddenly didn’t seem nearly so illicit. Yet he’d felt so much older that summer, more worldly after his year away.

“Have you seen how I used to deal with bad situations?” Alejandro broke in.

“Chandelier in Vegas,” Adrian muttered.

“Everyone brings that up.” Alejandro’s grin said he didn’t mind. “Going fast on a mountain road is nothing.” A grimace crossed his face. “I can’t count the number of times I could have seriously hurt someone with the way I used to behave. You just had bad luck to have the first time you tried to rebel result in something dire.”

“But I didn’t do things like that, period. I was the good son.”

“Oh, Antonio.” Isabella’s eyes welled with tears. “You are a good son, but that doesn’t mean you had to be perfect.”

His throat closed. “I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to make you happy.”

“And you do!” Isabella moved forward and cupped his face in his hands. “How did I not notice that you took on such responsibility? My happiness was my own to manage. That I refused to see the problems your father and I had, or not communicate with your brothers, was my burden to bear, not yours.”

“Nor was it your responsibility to try to fill the gaps Alejandro and I left,” Adrian said. A slight smile crossed his face. “Remember how you told me years ago you hated being in debt to us for helping you and William that night? I’ve just realized that he and I are in your debt for seeing what we couldn’t and trying to fix the pain we caused our family.”

“Plus,” Alejandro added, “if you think you’re too selfish for Anna, I’d say trying to be the perfect son for years to make our mother happy nixes that thought. Which means you need to call her, grovel, and hope she’ll take you back.”

As the words of his loved ones sank in, the ties that had kept him bound loosened, fell away. A lightness crept in, regret and shock and relief swirling together in a heady combination.

William wrapped an arm around Antonio’s shoulders and pulled him into a bear hug. “Go be happy. You deserve it.”

Antonio clapped him on the back, his throat constricting. When he stood back, it was to see William grinning from ear to ear. The scar no longer stood out. Just the glimpse of the boy Antonio had once known and the man he’d become.

Isabella moved to his side and enfolded him in an embrace. “My child.” She leaned back and smiled. “Despite your ridiculous height, always my child. Not my husband, not my protector. It was not your job to assume so much responsibility, and I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Adrian chimed in. “Madre and I...we had a lot to work through. Still do.” He came up and put an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead that put another sparkling sheen of tears in her eyes. “But it’s much better now.”

“Father and I are even getting along,” Alejandro added from the chair. “Telling him we’re having his first grandchild helped matters.”

Adrian rolled his eyes. “By a month.”

“What about Father?” Antonio asked, his gaze going back to his mother. “At the wedding, you said things weren’t going well.”

“They weren’t.” Isabella sighed. “I was in a bad place for a long time. I maintained a rosy view of what your father and I had. I made excuses for him not being there, for him not being involved in your lives. He shared some things with me this summer, too, that hurt very deeply.” She inhaled, her shoulders straightening. “But he’s working on himself, just as I’m working on myself. We want to make our marriage work. It’s not easy. It’s very, very hard. But sometimes you have to fight harder than others.”

Antonio let out a harsh breath. “Anna and I...relationship wasn’t what you think it was.”

“Drop the pretense, baby brother.” Alejandro stood in one fluid motion and stalked closer. “Adrian overheard you fighting at the reception.”

“What exactly did you hear?” Antonio asked with a glance at Adrian.

“Every word. The fake relationship was a nice touch. Although,” Adrian added, “it looked damn real to me in those photos.”

It had felt real, too.

“She won’t want to be with me. Not after I pushed her away.”

Isabella shook her head. “I can’t believe that. Not with the way she looked at you.”

“You don’t understand, Madre. I’ve hurt her so much.”

“That’s a risk we all take when we care about someone.”

All heads swung toward Alejandro.

“What?” He grinned. “I’m in love. And so are you, even if you deny it,” he added to Antonio.

Adrian hit something on the screen of his phone then handed it to Antonio. His heart twisted. It was a tabloid article, the headline screaming Hotel Billionaire and Childhood Sweetheart Indulge in Ice Cream in Italy.

Sorbet, he mentally ground out. But then his eyes landed on the picture. Anna’s eyes were partially shut, her mouth open in a laugh as sorbet dripped over her fingers. A photo most women would shudder to see; normalcy instead of poised elegance.

But Anna looked happy. Happy and beautiful and joyful, her dark hair pulled up into a ponytail, her mint-colored skirt and white blouse shown off to perfection against her tanned skin.

His gaze slid over. In the photo, he was smiling at Anna. Truly smiling, his lips curved up at the corners, his eyes crinkled as he watched her. It had been early in the second week, after he’d taken her to bed. One hand rested on her knee, fingers splayed across her skin that he remembered had felt like warm silk beneath his touch. She made him enjoy the little things in life, achieve a balance that had eluded him until she’d literally landed back in his life and offered him her heart once more.

“Dios mío, what have I done?”

“Get him the whiskey,” Adrian ordered.

Alejandro pressed a glass into Antonio’s hands.

“Don’t worry. Alejandro and I have both been where you’re at.”

“Just a couple months’ ago, actually,” Alejandro added cheerfully. “And look at us now.”

“I said things to her...horrible things.” The whiskey burned a trail down his throat, but also banished some of the panic threatening to burst in.

“Yeah, I think you said even worse things than Adrian did when he broke things off with Everleigh.”

“Not helping, Alejandro,” Adrian ground out.

“None of you are helping!” Isabella clapped her hands. “Adrian and Alejandro, go to your wives. William, darling, Paul will set you up with your room. Once my youngest has gotten Anna to forgive him, I’m sure he’ll want to catch up with you.”

Twenty seconds later the room was cleared, the door closed. Antonio sank into the chair Alejandro had recently vacated, pressure building behind his forehead.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?

“Tony.” He looked up to see his mother’s compassionate face in front of him. “She loves you.”

“Love isn’t always enough.”

“No. But it can be a start.” She kissed his forehead before leaving him alone to his thoughts.

He needed to tell Anna how he truly felt, that much was obvious. But just telling her wouldn’t be enough. No, he needed to prove that he was moving beyond the past. Setting his sights on the future and moving on.

A thought popped into his head. He’d failed miserably with the diamond bracelet. She’d already bought the silk. But there was another gift he could give her, something she truly wanted that would also show her he could move on.

He tossed back the rest of the whiskey, set the glass down and stood. Anna had been so brave, telling him how she’d felt all those years ago and then again at the wedding. She had no idea how incredible she was, how resilient and courageous.

Now it was his time to be strong for her. And, God willing, she still loved him.