Chapter 30

“Why don’t you get a shirt? Like one of those bracelets old people wear, except yours can say ‘infertile.’” Anna smirked.

Sarah smacked Anna on the shoulder. “Would you stop?” She scanned the school entry to make sure no one heard. The last car in the pick-up line drove off, and the other teachers and Sister Maria were out of earshot. Afternoon sun dappled the sidewalk.

Anna opened the door to the school and entered.

“My situation isn’t a joke. Eduardo’s been hounding me all week about my plans for next year. How can I commit to staying here—for him, for Lucia—when he doesn’t even know? What if the truth changes the way he feels?” Sarah followed.

The door snapped closed behind Sarah, cool air rushing the entry.

Anna stopped and turned to Sarah, the dark in her eyes softening. “Sarah, so many options exist to work around this problem. Adoption, surrogates—hell, you might not even need that. You two are so made for each other it’ll probably happen without even trying. I’m sure you already know all these things, and I’m sure he does, too. And if he’s that into you that he’s asking you to stay here, he’d be willing to try those.”

Maybe he would be willing? Or maybe he wouldn’t… Sarah bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze.

Anna rubbed her arm. “Hey, if things don’t work out, I’m sure Marco’s available.”

Again, Sarah smacked Anna’s shoulder. “You’re awful, Anna Franklin. You know that?”

Anna winked and started toward the staircase. “Have time for happy hour before you meet Prince Charming?”

“How about afternoon tea?”

Anna stuck out her tongue. “Ugh, fine. But only if you buy me a cannoli.”

Sarah smiled. “Why not? A sugar rush might help me get up my nerve. Let me wrap up a few things, and I’ll text you.”

With a nod, Anna rushed up the stairs.

Sarah returned to her classroom. But when she opened her door, she nearly jumped out of her shoes.

Mr. De Luca stood just inside. “Ms. Miller,” he said in a thick Italian accent, “so good to see you again.”

“Mr. De Luca, you gave me quite a surprise.”

“I tend to have that effect on women.” He stepped forward and flicked his meticulously groomed goatee.

Sarah inched to her desk and tried to find her voice. “What can I help you with? Perhaps some explanation on Lucia’s reading assignment?” She shuffled through a stack of papers.

Mr. De Luca smoothed a hand over his slick, black hair. “Actually, I need to speak to you about my wife.” He took a seat on the edge of her desk.

His strong cologne wafted in the air. Sarah sucked in a breath, and her stomach turned. “What about Roberta?”

Mr. De Luca rubbed his beard. “She’s quite upset about your involvement with Mr. Rossini.”

Sarah dropped the paper she’d been holding, and it fluttered to the floor.

Grinning, Mr. De Luca picked up the paper and tossed it back on her desk. “Given the circumstances, she’s decided to remove Lucia from the school.”

“What?” Sarah’s voice came out in a shriek. “Remove her from the school? But Lucia loves St. Theresa’s.”

“Unfortunately, Roberta doesn’t agree.”

Sarah’s mind darted in a thousand directions. Can she really do that? What will Sister Maria say? What will Eduardo—Oh, God. Eduardo. She squared her shoulders and looked Mr. De Luca dead on. “Roberta can’t do that without Eduardo’s consent.”

He picked up a pencil from her desk and twirled it between his fingers. “Perhaps. But you know how long and stressful these court battles are. Maybe you and I could help them avoid all that trouble.”

Alarm bells went off inside, but she had to know how she—no, they—could help. “How do you propose we do that?”

He stood. “Let’s just say I’ve been known to persuade my wife to do, or not do, most anything. If you are willing to do me a favor, then I will make sure Lucia remains at St. Theresa’s.”

Prickles raced along her skin, and she backed up against the chalkboard. “What did you have in mind?”

Leering, he stepped closer. “Oh, I think you know.” He seized her breast.

Sarah froze. This isn’t happening.

He squeezed, kneading her flesh with his hand.

Her breath caught. This can’t be happening.

The alarm bell inside blared, and Sarah slapped away his hand. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible.” She pointed toward the door, her unsteady hand matching the quaver in her voice. “I would like you to leave.” She swallowed. “Now.”

He strode toward the door, reached for the handle, and paused. “Suit yourself.”

Lumbering from the board, Sarah slumped into her chair. Sweat beaded her brow, and a tightness cinched her chest. Thank God he was gone. She exhaled a shaky breath. But would he be back?

****

That evening, Sarah sat across from Eduardo at his dining room table. The candle flickered on the table, casting a shadow on the tablecloth. Staring at the dancing flame, Sarah swirled her spoon in her soup.

“You don’t like the ribollita?” Eduardo cocked his head to the side.

Sarah lifted her gaze. “Sorry, I had too much table bread with Anna.”

“Bread?” He lifted a hearty spoonful of soup toward his mouth. “I thought you did the low-carb thing.”

“I do. I mean…” She dropped her gaze. The vibrant greens, oranges, and reds of the vegetables turned her already upset stomach even sourer. “Bread helps settle my stomach.” And keeps my hands occupied when I’m fidgety. She cut a wedge from the rosemary focaccia loaf set between them.

Eduardo gave her a questioning look. “Your stomach is upset? Are you mulling over your plans for next year?”

Shrugging, she dipped her bread in the soup, soaked up some tomato broth then took a generous bite. She chewed slowly—deliberately. The longer her mouth was full, the longer she could stall.

Rubbing his chin, Eduardo watched her.

His intense gaze measured her as she swallowed, reached for the bread, and started chomping again. Should she follow Anna’s advice and tell him about Mr. De Luca? Should she tell him about Roberta’s threat to remove Lucia from the school? But what would that admission accomplish? Eduardo would be mad—hell, probably downright insane if she mentioned Mr. De Luca—and the situation would only worsen. Endless court battles could ensue…and poor Lucia—she’d be caught in the middle.

No. Another way had to exist to smooth things over with Roberta without getting Eduardo involved.

Eduardo leaned back in his chair and swigged his wine. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of asking Sister Maria about your position next year.”

Sarah froze then slackened her jaw which was in mid-wrestle with the forbidden carbs.

“She said she’d love to have you back. That she’d help in any way to keep you here.”

Sister Maria. She was the solution. She taught Roberta and Mr. De Luca in their school years. She would know how to knock some sense into them. Sister Maria would help her and spare dragging Eduardo into things.

“I’ve been thinking how I could help, too.” Eduardo put down his glass and ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe you’d be happier if you didn’t live in the dorm.” He leaned across the table and placed a hand over hers. “Maybe you’d be happier if you lived with me.”

Sarah stiffened, and numbness seeped into her lips. He wants me to move in with him? “I…” What could she say? That her head swirled with thoughts, none of which had anything to do with moving in with him. Thoughts of Mr. De Luca, Roberta, Lucia, and Sister Maria churned in her mind. She eased her hand out from his and stood. “I need to go.”

Eduardo jerked back. “Go?”

“Yes. I need to talk to Sister Maria.”

Eduardo stood. “I’ll drive you.”

But Sarah already grabbed her purse. She raced out the door and hailed a cab. Hopefully, Sister Maria would fix the De Luca situation.

****

In the dormitory kitchen, Sarah sat in silence with Sister Maria; two cups of tea sat in front of them. Sarah tapped a foot on the floor, the chamomile doing nothing for her nerves.

Sister Maria rested her gaze on her mug. “And you didn’t tell Eduardo?”

The sister stared into her mug, as if she were reading the tea leaves. Sarah shook her head. “I didn’t want to worry him.” She bit her lip. Maybe she should have told him. Wouldn’t she want him to tell her if he were in a similar situation?

Sister Maria stood, her spine straight as a rod. “You are quite right. No need to upset Eduardo.” She placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “But De Luca…that boy always has been a bad seed.”

Mr. De Luca isn’t a boy. Sarah raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take care of De Luca,” Sister Maria said.

“Thank you, Sister.” The words came out in a sigh. “Thank you so much.”

Sister Maria turned to go then stopped. “Sarah. Have you given any thought to returning next year?”

Sarah clutched her mug in her hands. First the stress of telling Eduardo, then De Luca’s threat. How much more could Sarah take? She gave a tight response. “A little.”

“Well, I’ll hope you’ll give it some more.”

That night, Sarah lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, her mind on Eduardo. What was he doing? Had he gone to bed already? Or was he up worrying about how quickly she’d fled his apartment?

She exhaled and covered herself with the comforter. Scratchy and thin, the blanket was far from comfortable—not like Eduardo’s down-filled one. She rolled onto her side, and a spring jabbed her in the side. God, this bed was uncomfortable.

Eduardo’s words repeated in her head. Maybe you’d be happier if you lived with me. Who wouldn’t want to live at Eduardo’s flat? Who wouldn’t be proud to call Eduardo hers? Sarah sank deeper under the covers. Would his offer remain once he knew the truth?

Her phone dinged on the desk—a text. Sarah threw off the blanket and picked up the phone.

—Miss you, mia bella cigna—

The knot in Sarah’s stomach swelled. She closed her eyes. Enough! She’d endure no more fretful worries—no more nights contemplating his possible response. Opening her eyes, she let her thumbs find the keypad and sent a quick message.

—Miss you too. Can you pick me up after work tomorrow? We need to talk—