THE STREETS SURROUNDING the restaurant were gridlocked, the pavements packed with people spilling out of the nearby theatre, Teatro Olympia.
Wedging them comfortably in the stream of the traffic, Raul put the car in neutral and rested his head back.
His chest filled to see Charley gaze out of the passenger window, chewing her little finger, her silent pain pulling at him, making him want to hold her tight and stroke all the heartache away.
‘How much money have you given him over the past few years?’ he asked quietly.
She raised a shoulder but didn’t look at him. ‘I didn’t keep track. A quarter of a million in all, I think.’
‘On top of the house?’
A sharp nod.
He sighed, feeling even more strongly for her.
A cacophony of beeping cars broke through the silence and, with a start, he realised they were beeping at him.
He put the car into gear and pressed gently on the accelerator. ‘What did you do with the rest of the money?’
‘What do you think I did with it?’ she asked, turning her head to look at him, a curious expression on her face.
‘I don’t know.’ Every single one of his assumptions about her had been wrong, that much he did know. ‘I don’t think you spent it all on yourself.’
‘I bought some houses.’
‘You went into property?’
She let out a muted bark of laughter. ‘No. I didn’t go into property. I bought houses—one for my mum...’
‘I bought your mum a house,’ he interjected. Unlike Charley’s father, who he wouldn’t spit on if he were on fire, her mum he did like and he’d been happy to buy her a decent place to live. He’d bought it as a Christmas present for her, keeping it a surprise from both her and Charley.
He knew Charley’s mood would be lighter if her mum could have been here to celebrate her birthday too, but Charley’s grandmother had had a hip replacement the week before and Paula was staying with her.
‘That was in England. I bought her a holiday home here in Valencia so she could visit whenever she wanted and have a place to stay; my home is a little cramped for two. Also,’ she added as an afterthought, ‘I thought it unfair my dad was getting a Spanish home when she couldn’t have the same.’
He grinned, liking her way of thinking.
‘Who else did you buy houses for?’
‘My half-brothers and—’
‘Why on earth did you buy them homes?’ Raul had never met her half-brothers and had no wish to. Like her father, they only bothered with her when they wanted some money. ‘Let me make an educated guess—your dad told them we’d separated and that you had some money in your own right so they took the opportunity to get in touch and played you with a good sob story?’
‘Wrong.’ She scowled at him. ‘I bought them because I wanted to. They might keep their distance but they’re the only siblings I’ve got.’
‘Did you buy them cars too?’
She nodded.
‘Who else?’ he asked, with a sigh. There was no point in arguing about the wrongs or rights of it. There was truth in the saying that blood was thicker than water. Charley had been right in her criticisms of his own family but that hadn’t stopped them needling him like barbs in his skin.
‘My grandparents and my auntie Beverley.’
‘Is that it?’
‘Isn’t that enough?’
She wasn’t being facetious. Her question was genuine.
‘Enough? Charlotte, that money was for you.’
‘And I did spend some of it on me. I wasn’t completely selfless, you know. I bought myself my villa and a car, and until recently I’ve been taking monthly visits to the hairdresser. They all needed homes of their own far more than I needed another exotic holiday.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to buy your family houses?’
‘I couldn’t have asked you to do that,’ she said, clearly horrified at the idea.
‘Why not? We were married.’ He didn’t know what was worse: knowing he’d thought the worst about her or learning that she hadn’t felt secure enough in their marriage to think she could ask him for anything.
He’d thought he’d given her everything she’d wanted and needed.
Suddenly it hit him with force, like a punch to his solar plexus. It had all been a lie.
‘You never opened up to me at all, did you?’
She must have caught something in his tone because her eyes became wary. ‘What do you mean?’
‘In the whole of our marriage you never trusted me, did you?’
‘I did trust you. I told you before I knew you wouldn’t cheat on me...’
‘That is not trust!’ A fraction too late, he saw the flashing brake lights of the car in front and slammed his foot down, missing the car in front by inches. ‘You trusted me not to cheat but you didn’t trust me with what was going on in your head.’ He took in a breath. ‘I loved you but you were never honest about anything, were you? You started all those businesses without having any real interest in any of them but didn’t have the guts to tell me. If you’d had an ounce of the passion for them that you have for the centre, they would have succeeded.’
He took in her red checked silk top, black crepe trousers and short black heels, a classy combination that, with her blonde hair twisted in a simple knot, looked stunning on her but was markedly different from the clothes she used to wear.
‘You even wear different clothes.’ He shook his head and breathed deeply, struggling to comprehend.
Dios. Even her clothing had been a lie.
‘What did I do that was so bad you couldn’t trust me with the truth about yourself or your feelings? Did I ever mistreat you in any way?’
‘Of course you never mistreated me...’
‘Then what? I loved you.’
Her eyes became pincers. ‘If you loved me as much as you say you did, then why did you try to change me?’
‘I didn’t try to change you.’
‘Well, that’s what it felt like,’ she said, a tremor carrying in her voice. She rubbed her forehead. ‘Before we’d even exchanged our vows you’d thrown tutors at me to teach me elocution and all that other stuff. You got your sister to take me shopping to all the best places, you hired me my own personal trainer and dietician... The only reason you went to all that effort was because I wasn’t good enough for you and your perfect family as I was.’
‘For the last time, I was trying to help you fit in.’
‘And why was that? It was because I didn’t fit in.’
He slammed his fist on the steering wheel. ‘I was trying to protect you!’
Astonishment crossed her features. ‘Protect me from what?’
‘From my world and the people who live in it. I didn’t want you in social situations where you felt intimidated or unable to hold your own.’
Silence rang out between them, the only sound their ragged breaths and the pounding in his head.
‘From now on, no more lies,’ he said when he felt more in control of himself.
‘They weren’t deliberate lies,’ she whispered. ‘I was just so desperate to fit in and make you proud. I was terrified you would meet someone more suitable and drop me like a hot rock.’
‘That would never have happened. When I married you it was for ever, not until someone better came along.’
‘But I didn’t believe it—how could I when I spent my whole life believing I was so insignificant my own father only wanted to see me when he had nothing better to do? That I wasn’t good enough to even deserve a mention to his other family?’ She blew air out of her mouth and rested her head back to gaze at the roof of the car. ‘How can you understand what that feels like when everything you touch turns into gold?’
He swallowed, her words like claws gripping at his skin.
Not understand how she’d felt? The boy who’d grown up having every tiny mistake and digression magnified under his father’s totalitarian disapproval?
‘I know what it looks like on the surface but my life hasn’t been totally charmed. I know what it’s like to feel useless and inferior.’
‘When have you ever felt inferior?’ she asked, twisting to face him, her eyes wide.
‘My father...’ He cut his words off and attempted to gather his thoughts. If he was demanding honesty from her, then it was only right he give it in return, however hard it was to get the words out. Without honesty, they had no future. ‘I could never please him. Nothing I did was ever good enough.’
Her brows drew together.
‘He was a cold, cruel man—a hard taskmaster. He had exacting standards he expected me to live up to and if I failed in any aspect then he made his displeasure known. I don’t remember doing anything that pleased him or raised a smile to his face. If he felt any affection for me he didn’t show it, whereas Marta could do no wrong. He doted on her.’
‘Is that because she’s a woman?’
‘Probably,’ he admitted with a sigh. ‘Just as your father treated you differently to your brothers. I struggled for a long time to live with the double standards and his disapproval of me.’
‘And now?’
He shrugged, clenching his teeth together. ‘And now he’s infirm. For years I wanted to take him aside and demand answers about his treatment of me but now it’s too late and I will never know.’
‘Can’t you ask your mum?’
‘There isn’t any point,’ he dismissed. ‘My mother always turned a blind eye to it. She turns a blind eye to anything that can be construed as negative. When I left home and set up on my own, her only concern was that I wasn’t going to do anything that would bring shame on the Cazorla name.’
‘That’s a huge assumption you’re making about her,’ Charley said softly. ‘She might surprise you.’
‘We’ll see,’ he said, non-committal. ‘The reason I’ve shared this with you is because if we’re going to have any kind of lasting future, we need to always be honest with each other. If you’d been honest about your feelings before, I would have understood, but I’m not a mind-reader.’
A wary, almost frightened expression came into her eyes. ‘What do you mean about having a “lasting future”?’
‘If we talk and keep the lines of communication open, then these problems won’t occur again.’
‘You make it sound like we’re getting back together properly.’
‘Would that be such a bad thing?’ he asked in a much calmer tone than he felt. Ever since La Tomatina he’d experienced an awful sickening in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought of the day they would say goodbye for good. Those couple of days away in Brazil, when he’d called her a dozen times just to hear her voice, had convinced him they had what it took to make a new start. He’d missed her so badly he’d been on the verge of jumping into his jet the first night and demanding to be flown home.
Being with Charley felt very different this time too. Easier somehow. Stripped back.
‘Get back together?’ she asked in a tiny voice.
‘We’ve proven these past few months how good we can be together with a little compromise and sacrifice on each side. We understand each other a lot better too—you must feel that.’
‘And would I still be expected to have a baby?’
He could hear the edge in her voice but couldn’t place it.
‘Cariño, you will make a wonderful mother.’ And she would. Whatever motherhood threw at her, she would handle it magnificently.
‘Are you mad?’
His head reared back at the vehemence of her words.
‘I can’t believe you’re talking like this.’ The colour had drained from her face to leave her ashen.
A bang on his window brought them both up short.
He turned to find a man there, gesticulating and hollering abuse at him, and saw that traffic was moving again, had most likely been moving for a good few minutes, all bar the cars stuck behind them.
Raising a hand in apology, he was about to put the car back in gear when Charley opened her door.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I don’t know. Going for a walk. I need to clear my head.’
He heard her words but couldn’t comprehend them. ‘What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night.’
All the colour that had drained from her face came back in a dark flood that reached into her eyes. Her words were a rush. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this again.’
Grabbing her bag, she slipped out of the car and slammed the door with so much force the Lotus shook.
Raul stared at her rapidly retreating figure, his heart thumping, something sharp tearing at his throat.
What the hell had just happened?
It took a few heartbeats before the shock of her reaction dislodged and his body unfroze.
He unbuckled his seat belt, jumped out and, ignoring the dozens of angry drivers honking and waving their fists at him, slammed his own door shut.
For a moment he couldn’t see her and there were seconds when his heart seemed to stop with the panic of it all. Then he spotted her, already far in the distance in the middle of a crowded pavement.
Charley slipped through the crowds and into a narrow side street where cars were banned, not knowing and not caring where she was going. All that mattered was escaping...
A hand grabbed her arm. Her throat opened to scream but then she saw it was Raul who had hold of her.
She yanked out of his grasp. ‘Raul, please, leave me be. I want to be on my own.’
‘It’s dark—it isn’t safe to be out here on your own.’
People shuffled past giving them curious glances.
Raul muttered something and tried to steer her away from the middle of the street. She shied away from his touch.
Under the dim light of the streetlamp, she watched him run his fingers through his hair, his face a dark mask of grimness.
‘What is wrong with you?’ he asked roughly.
‘Everything!’ And with that, the tears came, not huge sobs or little wails, but a sheet of water pouring out from her eyes over which she had no control. ‘Don’t you see? Nothing’s changed. How can you even think we should get back together on a permanent basis and have little Cazorlas when everything that drove us apart in the first place is still there? How could we bring babies into a marriage like that? How can we ever bring a baby into a marriage like that?’
‘But it isn’t the same. We’ve been better together this time. You know that as well as I do.’
‘But that’s because we’ve known it’s only temporary.’
He held his hands aloft in an imploring manner. ‘It could be for ever this time.’
‘We spent three years together thinking it was for ever and, you’re right, it was all a lie. I was so desperate to meet your expectations of perfection that I lost sight of who I was, and that person is not someone who fits into your world.’
‘I have never expected perfection from you.’ His breathing had become ragged. ‘When I met you I lived in a bubble. All my life had been spent in it, a life of wealth and privilege where the most important thing was to keep up the public face. You were the first person outside of that bubble that I noticed. I fell for you the first moment I saw you. All I wanted to do was scoop you up and pull you into the bubble with me and protect you. Can you understand that?’
‘Yes, I can, but can’t you understand that your bubble suffocated me? I wanted so desperately to make you proud, to be the perfect wife, to hold my own beside you, to give you the beautiful mini Cazorlas we both wanted—and I did want them too, I really did, but I needed to find my self-respect first. I never found it with you because the pressure of living up to the perfection of your life was just too much.’
The walls of the surrounding buildings seemed to close in on her, crowding her, squeezing her, like creatures from the horror film her fairy-tale marriage had turned into.
She gazed at him, feeling an almost unbearable sadness loom down on her. He looked haggard, as if he’d been told his entire fortune had been lost for ever.
‘Raul, your whole life is about perfection. Perfect business, perfect house, perfect car, perfect wife, perfect everything. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Look at the new centre for Poco Rio—when it’s done it will be perfect and that will be down to you.’
She wiped the tears away only to find a fresh torrent pouring down. ‘I’m sorry. We’re just too different, don’t you see that? What we had should never have been more than a summer fling. I can’t do it. I can’t live that life again. I can’t live permanently with you again.’
God forgive her, she knew she was being unfair and cruel but fear had caught her in its grip so tightly she would have said anything to relinquish it.
And Raul...forget losing his fortune, he looked as if he’d had all the stuffing knocked out of him.
‘Answer me this,’ he said, his voice hollow. ‘If you don’t want me, what do you want?’
That brought her up short.
‘I don’t know. All I know is I don’t want to lose sight of who I am again. I just want to be me, Charley.’ She raised her shoulders and stared at him. ‘I want to be happy.’
‘And you don’t think you can be happy with me?’
‘No. I can’t be happy with you.’
A shudder ran through her at the same time his face blanched.
She wished she could take it back, all her words, or soften them somehow. But she couldn’t. The words wouldn’t form.
Raul shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and straightened, visibly composing himself. ‘If that’s how you feel, there’s no point in prolonging this conversation any further. I’ll drive you home’
‘To my house here?’
He gave a sharp nod, not looking at her. ‘If that is what you want.’
‘I think that would be for the best.’
On shaking legs, Charley walked back to the Lotus, which was still abandoned in the middle of the road, headlights still beaming.
Not a single word was exchanged until they pulled up onto her small driveway, the outside lights switching on automatically and bathing them in colour.
His gaze fixed ahead, Raul said, ‘I’ll arrange for your stuff to be couriered back to you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And I’ll get Ava to liaise with you about the cruise fundraiser.’
All she managed was a nod, her throat so tight it felt as if she were choking.
When she got out of the car she shut the door softly, sending a silent apology for all the times she’d slammed it in anger.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
She fumbled in her bag for her door key, having a moment of panic as she wondered if she’d taken it out at some point over the past few months. Her fingers gripped on the cold metal...
‘Charley.’
She looked back to see Raul standing by his door. ‘The new centre... It was you, not me. Everything it is and everything it will be is because of you.’
It wasn’t until she stepped into her home and locked the front door that her legs gave way.
He’d called her Charley.
Back to the wall, she slid onto the floor, curled into a ball and sobbed so hard her broken heart shattered all over again.
* * *
Raul let himself into the villa and threw his keys on the sideboard.
The house sat in silence, the staff having long retired for the night.
He rubbed his temples and headed to the bar. After fixing himself a neat Gin de Mahón, he sat on a stool, used the remote to turn the television on, and flicked through the sports channels until he found the highlights of the evening’s La Liga games.
Sipping at his drink, he concentrated on watching Barcelona demolish Celta Viga. There were some good goals to enjoy and ordinarily he would have been cheering his home team on. Football. His guilty pleasure.
Tonight, though, he was distracted. Something in his trouser pocket was digging into the top of his thigh. He should pick it out.
Instead, he waited for the adverts to finish, swallowed his drink and poured himself another.
The damn thing still dug into him.
With a grimace, he shoved his hand into the pocket and fished the small square box out. Without looking at it, he stuck it on the bar and shoved it away from him. He heard it slide across the marble.
Another game had started. He had no idea which teams were playing.
His eyes kept flitting to the box, still in its wrapping paper. It had landed right at the edge of the bar, part of it overhanging.
When he next picked up his glass his hand had gone clammy. All his skin had dampened, as if he’d caught a fever of the flesh his brain hadn’t registered. Just as he thought it, his forehead began to burn and pound and his stomach contracted.
I’ve eaten something that doesn’t agree with me.
But he hadn’t eaten. Charley had wanted to leave before they’d really started on their first course.
Charley...
He was off the stool and reaching for the box before he could stop himself. Feeling as if his heart could burst through his ribcage, he ripped the wrapping paper off and popped the lid open.
For a moment he couldn’t see for the film that had formed over his eyes. He blinked it away and stared at the contents of the box. The longer he stared, the greater the nausea formed inside him until he could bear it no more and, using all his strength, threw the box at the optics behind the bar, hitting the vodka, the power behind the throw enough to smash the bottle.
He laughed as the smell of alcohol immediately filled the space, was still laughing when he swallowed his Gin de Mahón in one and threw the empty glass at the bottle of single malt whisky. Only the glass smashed.
The laughter died as quickly as it had formed as he surveyed the shattered glass around him.
He couldn’t make her happy.
All his attempts to protect her had backfired. He’d suffocated her.
All Charley saw when she reflected on their marriage was unobtainable levels of perfection she didn’t believe she could reach. Just as he’d always known he would never be able to reach the levels of perfection his own father had demanded of him.
He clutched at his hair so tightly small strands were locked between his fingers when he pulled them away.
Had he really become his father?
All he’d wanted was to please her and make her happy but all he’d done was drive her away just as his own father had driven him away.
The happy ending he’d envisaged for them and had dared hope could be a reality had been cut out from beneath him.
He couldn’t make her happy. She didn’t want for ever with him.
Holding onto the bar to steady himself, he breathed deeply.
It would pass, he told himself. It had passed last time, it would pass again.
But the pain...
It was intolerable.
The shattered glass was nothing compared to the shattered mess that was his heart.