Chapter 24

The cacophony of horns, squealing tires, and rolling suitcases was deafening. Cars cut off buses, which pulled in front of double-parked taxis. Sarah hugged her mother goodbye, the hollowness inside her a stark contrast to this city full of life. Hollowness not because Mom was leaving, but because Eduardo had barely spoken to her since Marco’s appearance.

Sarah gave Mom a send-off wave then wrapped her coat tighter around herself. She waded through idling cars, their exhaust hovering in the frigid air, back to Eduardo’s black Mercedes.

When she tugged the car door shut, silence greeted her.

Eduardo looked over his left shoulder and pulled into the zooming traffic.

“Thanks again for driving my mom,” Sarah said.

“Driving was the least I could do.” He kept his gaze fixed on the road.

Sarah pondered another conversation starter. Where was the easy banter between them? The casual touches?

Damn Marco! If not for him, Eduardo would probably be calling Antoinette right now, apologizing for ending things over the phone. But no. Now, an offer to drive her mother to the airport was just a gesture of politeness rather than an excuse to spend time with Sarah.

Finally, she was alone with him. No children pestered. No mothers hovered. Just she and Eduardo sat in the tight confines of a car for a thirty-minute ride. Sarah couldn’t ask for a better opportunity to set things straight. So, why did she feel like she’d swallowed a baguette whole?

She gripped her knees, rubbing the denim fabric under her palms. These were the jeans she’d worn the day he’d officially asked her out—the jeans had drawn his gaze to her hips and thighs. He gazed with eyes so hungry his eyes could have jumped through his glasses that day. And now? He certainly wasn’t appraising her today.

With a sigh, she slumped in the seat and shifted her gaze back to the window. Outside, scooters weaved through traffic. Stacks of signs, their names and symbols unfamiliar, lined the road. To the east, St. Peter’s Basilica arched in the skyline.

Sister Maria’s words suddenly flooded Sarah’s mind. We have to put ourselves in uncomfortable situations to get what we want.

From the passenger seat, she stole another glimpse at Eduardo. Was he driving faster than usual? Was he that anxious to get rid of her?

Uncomfortable, indeed. Sarah took a deep breath and plunged in. “I’m sorry about yesterday. About the little interruption.”

“Interruption.” Eduardo gripped the wheel tighter and accelerated.

“Yes. I honestly had no idea Mar—” She bit her lip.

Eduardo gave a quick glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Had no idea my friend would be there.”

“Neither did I.” His voice, devoid of its mellow tone, sounded flat and cold.

“Again, I’m sorry. Really.” She placed a hand on his sleeve. He didn’t pull back. That small glimmer of hope encouraged her to continue. “I was hoping that we could have talked more…” She hesitated, swallowed hard, and tapped her toes. “About us.”

Eduardo snapped his head in her direction. At the same time, his foot caught the brake, and the car jerked. Horns blared. “Sorry,” Eduardo returned his attention to the road.

Sarah pulled back her hand and clasped it with the other in her lap. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“No,”—he cleared his throat—“I do.”

She loosened her clenched hands. “Well, I just wanted you to know that I’ve decided I’m ready. Ready to date again.”

He flicked his gaze toward her then back to the road.

“And,” she continued, her voice shaking, “I know that you’re with Antoinette now, but I wanted to tell you that if things should change, I­—” Her voice broke, but she forced herself to finish. “I’d like to date you again. If you’re interested, that is.”

Her heart pounded. Her breath caught in her throat.

Slowing the car, Eduardo pulled into a parking lot. He shifted the car into Park and turned to face her. “Sarah, this thing with Antoinette is nothing. Nothing compared to how I feel about…” The sentence died in his mouth. He shifted his gaze back to the windshield.

“Yes?”

“I wanted to tell you yesterday, but then…” He tightened his hold on the steering wheel. “Then I see you with this guy—this kid. And I know it’s probably nothing, but I can’t help thinking.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Listen, you broke off things because you said you weren’t ready to date, but then here comes this guy. And let me tell you, if he hasn’t dated you, he’s sure as hell dreamt about it.”

“Eduardo, wait. Marco is ju—”

“Marco?” He threw his head against the head rest. “Great. He even has a name.”

“He’s a friend of Anna’s. He has a thing for me.”

“I could tell that much.”

Wriggling her hands, she cursed Marco. If only she could explain to Eduardo that Marco meant as much to her as Antoinette meant to him. Leaning over, Sarah pried his right hand from the steering wheel. “Eduardo, I promise I haven’t dated anyone since you. I haven’t even thought about it.”

He relaxed his hand in hers.

“To be honest,” she continued, “I haven’t thought about anyone but you.”

“Are you sure? Sure you’re ready to date again?” His voice was light with shallow breaths.

Eduardo softened his dark eyes to a milk-chocolate brown. Sarah nodded and squeezed his hand.

As he smiled, he pressed his fingers into her palm. “Because if I have to go through the agony of letting you go again—and that was just after one date—I might just join the priesthood.”

No sooner did the words leave his mouth than she lunged across the seat and kissed him.

****

Time suspended over the next few days. Afternoons were spent strolling through the park, with Sarah’s head nuzzled in the breast of Eduardo’s leather jacket. Conversations lingered over dinner in quiet restaurants, well past Sarah’s bedtime. But the goodnight kisses, the gentle tug of Eduardo’s teeth on her lip, with no worries of a student wandering past in the hall, were what Sarah wanted to bottle up.

Thoughts of his touches stayed long past recitations of the state capitals and well into the night. They remained when she woke and lasted until she received his “good morning, bella cigna” text. When would his eager hands unsnap that first button? When would his tender kisses drift below her chin? When would he not take her back to her dorm, but instead ask her to stay the night?

Their first date, so many months ago, was too soon for him to ask. But now, a handful of dates later, Sarah wondered when he might ask again. She lounged with Eduardo on the floor in front of his fireplace. “I can’t believe break is almost over,” Sarah said. “Anna comes back tomorrow.”

“Another week”—he frowned—“until you’re back at work.”

Sarah nodded.

“Two until I have Lucia again.”

“Two weeks?” Sarah sat up. “But I thought you had her every other weekend?”

“As part of the custody agreement, Roberta has her through the week ending with Epiphany.”

“So long?”

“The gaps are always this long around the holidays.” Eduardo placed a hand on her knee. “Having you to spend time with has really helped. Otherwise, I’d just be working.”

“Working?” Sarah gave a light laugh. “Who works through the holidays?”

Eduardo gave her a sideways glance.

Right. Antoinette. Neither of them said her name—hadn’t said her name since Eduardo ended things with her. Probably not the nicest Christmas present in the world, but from what Eduardo relayed, Antoinette was content to call it quits as well.

“Can’t you renegotiate the terms of the custody agreement? You are a lawyer, right?”

Laughing lightly, Eduardo squeezed her knee. “International corporate law isn’t quite the same. Besides, I can’t really blame Roberta.”

Sarah tilted her head.

Eduardo sighed, his gaze resting on the fire. The flames reflected off his glasses. “I wasn’t always such a devoted father.”

Stiffness crawled up Sarah’s spine. Devoted father, or devoted husband?

He glanced over at her. “I wasn’t unfaithful—nothing like that. Just…” He stopped, sighed, and then started again. “I met Roberta after returning from law school in New York. She was young and beautiful, and her father was a partner in the firm where I worked. I thought I loved her.”

His voice was distant and cool, and his eyes an icy contrast to the warmth of the flames. Releasing a tight exhalation, Sarah felt the tension in her muscles ease.

“I didn’t realize until later that she was just another challenge—I wanted to prove that I could give her things like her father did. I worked tirelessly to gain new clients and establish myself as the go-to man in the firm, only to spend my money frivolously on Roberta. And after we married, her father made me junior partner at the firm, and I worked even more than ever, feverishly establishing a strong clientele so I could open my own firm.”

Sarah shifted closer, taking his hand in hers. His past, as painful as it was, made him the man he was today.

“That was about the time Lucia was born. I was determined to provide her the best. I…I’m sorry to admit that I worked even more after Lucia was born. I thought money would be a better gift than my time.”

Aching to remove his guilt, Sarah nuzzled into his chest and squeezed his hand.

“I wasn’t surprised when she left me.” He rested his chin on her hair. “Lucia was only three. I was hardly home, and I was neither a good father nor a good husband. Not until they were gone did I realize what I’d lost. But my realization was too late.”

He paused. “I never mourned losing Roberta. I’d known for some years we weren’t in love. But I will never forgive myself for losing Lucia.”

Sarah let his confession breathe. The crackle of the fire was the only sound in the room. How was he so brave to bear his secrets—his flaws? Did he expect her to share hers, too?

Blinking, she pushed away the thought. No. Tonight was about him, not her. “You’re a wonderful father, Eduardo. Lucia lights up when you’re around.”

“When?” Eduardo snorted. “The all of four days a month I spend with her?”

At the bitterness in his voice, Sarah jerked back.

Eduardo turned, and tears glistened on his cheeks. He caught her hand. “I don’t blame Roberta, Sarah. I can only blame myself.”

“No one’s perfect, Eduardo.” I’m certainly not.

Sapped of his bravado, Eduardo sat lifeless.

Sarah pulled her knees up under her and lifted his chin so he was forced to look at her. “Eduardo, if my husband had half the heart you do, I would forgive him for what he’s done. And if I were Roberta, or Lucia, I would forgive you, too.” For a moment, he didn’t speak—but his demeanor changed. His eyes filled with warmth, and his shoulders lifted.

He sat forward, placing a hand on Sarah’s waist. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that.” He wrapped an arm around her hips and pulled her close, leaning into her as he lowered her to the floor. His lips danced on her skin, skimming her neck, then her chin, and stopped behind her ear. “Sarah?” he whispered.

“Yes?” She shivered at his touch.

“I want to make love to you.”

Sarah couldn’t help but smile. She grasped his collar and eased him closer.

He returned his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply, his hands wandering over her body. When they found her breasts, he threw his head back with a groan.

A warmth spilled down her body, and she moaned.

“Bella Cigna, tu sei perfetto.”

Perfect? Sarah stiffened. He wouldn’t think as much once he knew of her secret—her flaws. What would he think? Would he want to be with her? Would he still be attracted?

Eduardo pushed himself up. “You, um, don’t want to?”

Oh no. How long was she lost in thought? “No,” Sarah blurted. She sat up, shaking her head. “I mean yes. Of course, I want to. I…I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? Why would you be nervous?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been intimate in so long.” She fought against wincing. Why had she drunk so much with Marco?

“Too long.” He ran a finger up the outside of her thigh.

Sarah shuddered at his touch. “Yes. Too long. I haven’t been with someone since, since…” She swallowed the words.

“Your husband?”

Sarah didn’t answer, but the guilt flamed in her cheeks.

With narrowed eyes and pinched brows, Eduardo pulled back. He rose to his feet. “You said he was one of Anna’s friends?”

Sarah bolted to her feet. “I did. He is. I mean, he was just—”

“Just what, Sarah?”

“A mistake.” She reached for him.

He jerked away his hand. “Mistake? Mistake?” he repeated louder. He stomped toward the far side of the room. “Like the mistake you made when you ended things with us? Or was that all the same mistake?”

She couldn’t lose him now—not after everything she’d gone through to win him back. Sarah chased after him. “Marco had nothing to do with you—us, I promise.” She clasped his shoulder. “This mistake happened before you and I ever went out.” Under her hand, a muscle in Eduardo’s shoulder contracted then softened.

He tipped his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “Before?”

Sarah sighed. “It happened in the summer. I had too much to drink.”

Eduardo turned, a crease marking his forehead. “But you don’t drink.”

“Exactly.” Sarah released him and wrung her hands.

He shook his head and furrowed his brows.

“I don’t remember, Eduardo. I had a few drinks, and the next thing I remember is waking up in his bed.” Sarah forced herself to hold his gaze. The color in his eyes shifted from dark to light.

For a moment, he stared, and then his laugh cut the silence. “Well, maybe I should get you a glass of wine.” He grabbed her hands and tugged her close.

Sarah released a heavy breath. “Very funny.” She bent her head into his chest, inhaling his scent. “No wine. With you, I want to remember every second.”