The sight of him made her stop and think about what she was doing. Noemi passed a hand over her eyes, her adrenaline deserting her. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
Rafa came to her and offered her his hand. “To talk. If you don’t mind, can we go to the other side of the house? Bepi is sleeping and if you need to scream…”
Noemi didn’t feel like screaming, but she let him lead her into another room. The room was obviously a study, his den, filled with bookshelves and battered old couches, it belied the opulence of the rest of the mansion.
She turned to study Rafa. He had aged since she had last seen him, his handsome face now seemingly always masked in sadness, his green eyes ringed with dark lashes were wary and exhausted. Noemi knew instantly that Rafa wasn’t trying to take his revenge on her or the hospital; he was merely trying to find meaning in Thomasina’s death.
Rafa made her some hot tea. She thanked him and took the cup. “They said you were expecting me.”
He sat down opposite her, nodding. “I was. I have been. Actually, I expected you to come at me as soon as you found out.”
“I thought you were tormenting me. Now, I feel stupid—and ashamed.”
“Don’t. The whole reason I’m doing this is so that you will stop blaming yourself. Tomi would have hated it. The accident wasn’t your fault; Tomi’s illness wasn’t either. It’s just dumb bad luck.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I wanted to see you. That day at Tomi’s grave… I should have told you then that I didn’t blame you. I called Lazlo the next day, but he told me where you’d gone. I should have… God, I don’t know, Noemi. I’m still trying to figure all of this out.”
“How is Bepi?”
Rafa smiled then and his face lit up. “My joy. He’s so resilient, you know? I wish we didn’t lose that as we got older. Got old. I got old.”
Noemi wanted to touch his face. “You’re not old.”
“I feel old. After Tomi died, I had to focus on Bepi, getting him through the grief…”
“… and who helped you get through the grief, Rafa?”
He didn’t answer. “Bepi is the priority.”
Noemi, calm now, drew in a deep breath. “Rafa, what is it you want the clinic to achieve? I mean, we can treat cardio patients, research new methods and new protocols, but none of it will bring Tomi back. Why? Why is it your job to fund this?”
“Because no one else is able to, at least not to the extent that I am. Look, I know nothing—nothing about medicine. What I know is shipping—as dull as that sounds. What I do have is money, and if I keep it all…. why? What else could I possibly want? As long as my son is happy, healthy, and secure?” His shoulders slumped. “Noemi… No. It won’t bring Tomi back. But it might prevent the kind of pain that—” He trailed off and let out a shaky breath.
Noemi felt her heart go out to him. “I just don’t know if I’m the right person to lead it. I’m just a resident, Rafa.”
“I just want you involved. Tomi loved you. She trusted you, and her death doesn’t change that.”
“Do you trust me, Rafa?” The question came to her, and she already knew the answer. He smiled sadly.
“I’m trying. But know this—I do not blame you in any way for Thomasina’s death. Perhaps, between us, we can make it so it wasn’t such a damn waste.” Rafa looked at Noemi with those startling green eyes and something deep inside her awoke. Hope. Reason. That’s what it is, she told herself, nothing more.
“I can’t promise we’ll make any progress.”
“Let’s just try. What do you say?”
And looking deep into his eyes, Noemi knew she couldn’t say no.
She found, over the next few weeks, that Rafa was a regular visitor to the clinic, always interested in what they were doing but never making them feel like he was questioning their methods. He took a genuine interest in the medicine and spent time talking to everyone about what they needed to make progress.
He would often arrive as she was finishing her shift and ask her to join him for coffee. “If you’re not too tired,” he would add. “Or if you have other plans.”
The truth was Noemi looked forward to seeing him. Sometimes he would bring Bepi with him, and the boy would entertain them both.
As Noemi regained her confidence, she found working with Finn Wilder was inspiring. Unlike Dieter, whom she’d worked with before the accident, Finn had no interest in power mongering—he wanted to help Noemi reach her full potential.
Noemi threw herself back into work, and to all outward appearances, she appeared confident and together. It was only when she was alone at night that the nightmares came—and now, they weren’t only about Thomasina.
Noemi had yet to deal with what she’d experienced while working in Syria: the terrible hardships, the horrific things she had seen. Without thinking of the repercussions, she had often thrown herself into the most dangerous situations, frequently working under fire to help save the civilians trapped between warring factions.
It had been the children, the orphans, who had affected her most: their confusion about why this was happening, why grown men were killing each other, their mothers, and their friends… they had haunted Noemi. She’d made some good friends out there but making friends was dangerous—on more than one occasion, she had lost someone. They had all lost people.
She had to make herself numb to get through each day, and now that she was back in Seattle safe, she was surprised to find herself getting angry at the smallest things: the way people walked blithely down the street, not having to watch out for sniper fire or rogue bombs. Did they appreciate it? Noemi would stomp into work in a foul mood which she then had to struggle to control. Irrational mood swings plagued her now, but she kept them hidden, often disappearing into the stalls of the restrooms to practice deep breathing.
Noemi told herself it would pass; she was just readjusting to being back in the States. But the only time she ever really found peace was when she was with Rafael Genova—and she didn’t want to even consider the reason for that.
Rafael Genova picked his son up from his kindergarten, ignoring the admiring glances of the mommies present. He knew the effect his good looks had on women, but his shattered heart was only now healing itself, and he couldn’t even think of another woman yet.
Except…
He told himself that the reason why he was spending so much time with Noemi Castor was his investment in the hospital and the clinic. When Thomasina had been alive, his entire world had been her and Bepi, but even then, he had been drawn to the young doctor—although he would have never ever cheated on Thomasina.
Noemi Castor reminded him of a time in his life when he too had been able to follow his passion: before his elder brother, Zani, had decided he wanted no part of their father’s shipping business and had taken his trust fund and disappeared to party in Europe—and Rafa had to take up the mantle; a time when he had wanted to go to college to study anything but shipping. There were several educational routes open to him: his 4.0 GPA saw to that. He’d been torn between art and science, but then Zani had let his father down, and Rafa knew he had to step up to the plate.
Twenty years later, he’d guided his father’s enterprise up into the stratosphere, but it didn’t feed Rafa’s soul. He was aware that now he was living vicariously through his involvement with the hospital, and he knew that, selfishly, it was a link forever to Tomi.
Thomasina had been his best friend, his romantic partner, his confidante. They’d met at a party held by one of his mother’s society friends. Rafa, ever loyal to his beloved mother, hated social functions, but when he’d seen the beautiful blonde sneaking a cigarette outside and looking as bored as he did, he perked up.
Their friendship had been almost immediate, and their romance came later when they both knew they couldn’t live without each other, making each other laugh constantly and not taking their ‘positions’ in society seriously. Thomasina had survived the whole cotillion set with her mother and elder sister by embracing an irreverence that had landed her in finishing school in Switzerland—from which she got herself expelled, of course.
Thomasina didn’t want to be lauded for her physical appearance; she had wanted to use her not inconsiderable intellect. Her mother, heiress to a newspaper fortune, disapproved of Rafa right up to the moment Bepi was born. Thomasina had gotten pregnant by mistake, but they both agreed: Bepi was the best thing that ever happened to them; it brought both families together. But Thomasina fell ill and everything changed.
Rafael took Bepi to his favorite ice cream parlor, a weekly treat he knew Bepi loved. Thomasina had always taken him, and so Rafa continued that tradition. Today though, he noticed his son was quieter than normal.
“What is it, slugger?”
Bepi shook his head, not meeting his father’s gaze. He swirled the ice cream around in his bowl but didn’t eat any. Finally, Rafa pushed the dishes away.
“Come on, sport. Talk to Pa.”
Bepi wriggled, obviously uncomfortable. “Pa… why did Momma have to go away?”
Rafa’s heart hurt. “We talked about this, kiddo. Momma was sick, and although she tried to get better, she couldn’t. You know what it means when someone dies, right? They leave their body and go to sleep forever.” He stroked his son’s hair back. “Why do you ask today?”
“Mikey’s daddy is getting a new mommy for him.”
Ah. Rafa hoisted his son onto his lap. “Well, maybe one day, I might meet a lady who will want to be your… well, not your Momma, but someone who will want to love you like Momma did.”
Bepi nodded, but Rafa could see the tears in his son’s eyes. “Hey, buddy, we’re doing okay, right? You and me?” An idea came to him. “Listen… remember we talked about getting a dog? From the shelter?”
Bepi immediately brightened. “We can go?”
“Sure we can.”
“Tonight?”
Rafa laughed. Oh, what the hell… “If you’ve finished your dessert, we can go right now.”
Bepi was off his lap before Rafa finished his sentence.