by Jane Porter
“Yes.”
“You don’t feel as if I’ve forced you into this?”
“No.” She felt like she was dying on the inside. Her heart seemed to be coming apart, twisting, writhing, bursting into little bits of nothing. “So I’ll pack a few things and then see you at the airport.”
“In ninety minutes. My driver will be waiting downstairs for you. As soon as you’re ready, jump in the car.” He walked toward her, dropped a kiss on her lips, stroked her cheek and then again, smiling into her eyes. “Green eyes,” he murmured. “I love them.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re going to love Capri.”
She rose up on tiptoe to brush her mouth against his. His warm mouth sent a tingle down her back. “I know I will if you’re there.”
“See you soon,” he said.
“See you soon,” she answered, grateful she had the acting skills to hide the fact that her heart was breaking.
After Vittorio dressed and left, Jillian packed the few things she had into the battered green suitcase, an old suitcase that reminded her of a bruised avocado. As she packed, she tried not to think about what she was doing, or what was happening, or where she’d be going. Because she wasn’t going to Capri and she wouldn’t be meeting Vittorio.
Instead she was using the opportunity to leave Vittorio.
And she’d be leaving Joe here with Vitt.
Her insides writhed with pain at the idea of it, so she jammed her emotions down, suppressing them with all her strength.
She wasn’t going to think right now. She wasn’t going to feel. She was just going to put one foot in front of the other and do what she had to.
Suitcase packed, she carried it to the top of the stairs, knowing that Maria and Joe were waiting for her by the front door. But before she headed down, she went to the nursery, peeked inside for one last time.
This is it, she thought, glancing around, trying to remember all the details. The color blue. The painted fish. The crisp white bookshelves.
This is where Joe would sleep at night, safe, secure, protected.
This is where he’d grow up, adored, loved.
It was good that she was leaving him here. It was good he’d be raised by such a strong, moral, compassionate father.
Now all she had to do was go. Her bag was packed. The car was waiting. The only thing remaining was to walk out the door, and close it, and leave her husband and baby behind.
Imagining walking away from Joe made her knees buckle. She put out a hand, touched the wall, took a deep shuddering breath.
You can do this, she told herself. You have to.
Joe was too innocent and beautiful for the life she’d lived these past fourteen years. Joe was too innocent to be caught up in her family’s darkness and turmoil.
With a last glance around the bright cheerful nursery, she saw how the warm sunlight shone through the windows and fell onto the crib. The light was good. The warmth even better. Leaving Joe here was the right thing to do.
Jillian went down the stairs to the front door where Maria was waiting with Joe and the luggage. The lump in her throat was beyond horrendous. It was murder to swallow and her eyes felt scalded but she would not let the tears fall.
Vittorio would be angry. He’d be so furious that she’d left them. But she hoped one day he’d understand. She hoped one day he’d realize she was doing this to protect them, not hurt them.
“I’ve one last thing to do,” Jillian told Maria, her voice cracking. “Can you take the baby for a quick walk around the terrace? Let him touch the roses. He loves the flowers. And then he and I will go.”
Jill didn’t kiss Joe, or make a sound, as Maria carried Joe out, because God knew, she couldn’t leave if Joe started crying. But Joe didn’t cry. He was happy to go outside, loved the pretty roses, and as Maria carried him, he looked over Maria’s shoulder and smiled at his mother, waving, bye-bye.
Bye-bye.
Bye-bye, my love. Bye-bye, my baby. For a split second Jillian nearly screamed with the pain. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t. There was no way…
And then she lifted her hand and smiled and waved back to her boy. Bye-bye, my heart.
And as the door to the terrace closed behind Maria, Jillian picked up her own suitcase, leaving Joe’s two small bags on the gleaming floor, and headed out the front door to climb into the car.
Vittorio wrapped up his meeting early and headed straight for the executive airport, anxious to see Jillian and Joe and be on their way for their three-day holiday. But on reaching the airport in Catania, he discovered his driver hadn’t arrived yet.
He waited ten minutes then called his driver. His driver immediately answered. “How far away are you?” Vitt asked, glancing at his watch.
“I’ve just returned to Paterno,” his driver said. “I dropped Signore off at the airport.”
“But I’m at the airport. I’ve been here. The jet’s fueled and waiting.”
“Signore said I was to take her to the public airport.”
“What?”
“She said there had been a change of plans.”
A change of plans? Why would there be a change of plans? Vittorio reeled from shock and struggled to speak. “Where is my son?”
“Here in Paterno, at home.”
Thank God. Vittorio exhaled. “But the Signore?”
“She is gone.”
Vittorio immediately jumped into his car and drove home, unable to believe that Jillian had really gone.
As he drove through the gates of his estate, he played his last conversation with Jillian over and over in his head. She’d said she was looking forward to Capri. Said she was happy with him.
So why would she leave?
In the house, he dropped keys on the ornate sideboard in the hall next to the vase of fresh flowers and stood frozen in place.
How could everything have changed so quickly? Just hours ago everything had seemed so perfect he’d planned an impromptu getaway to his favorite five-star hotel in Capri. But just hours later, Jillian was gone and she’d abandoned him, abandoned their son.
Why?
How?
Something must have happened. Something must have driven her away. But what? Or more accurately, who?
He replayed the morning’s events over in his head one more time, picturing waking up with her, making love, showering, breakfast, his mother’s appearance.
The phone call.
The phone call.
Someone had said something to her. Scared her. Threatened her. Chased her off.
He’d find out who called the house. There were ways to trace numbers. Even unlisted numbers.
He climbed the stairs to the library, determined to find out everything he could when he heard the sound of his father’s wheelchair down the hall.
Vitt paused at the top of the stairs and spotted his father waiting for him at the door of the library. But his father wasn’t the only one in the wheelchair. Eleven-month-old Joseph lay on his grandfather’s chest, his thumb in his mouth, sound asleep.
“Where has she gone?” Salvatore asked Vittorio.
“I don’t know.”
“Why would she leave her son?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
His father stared at him hard. “Has she done this before?”
“Never.”
“Then why now?” his father demanded.
“I don’t know. But trust me, I’m going to find out.”
Jillian had purchased a last-minute seat on an Air Italia flight from Catania to Heathrow. From Heathrow she’d catch the cheapest flight she could to the States. Where in the States she didn’t know. She’d figure that part out later. It was hard enough just leaving Vittorio and Joe behind in Sicily without thinking of the vast Atlantic Ocean separating them.
The flight attendant on Air Italia offered Jillian snacks and drinks but Jillian shook her head, unable to speak, almost catatonic with despair.
What had she do
ne? How could she have left them both? Why hadn’t she gone straight to Vittorio and told him everything?
Because you’re scared, a little voice whispered. You’re scared that if you make a mistake, you could lose the people you love.
And she did love Vitt, just as she loved Joe. She loved them so much she wanted to be brave and strong and do what Salvatore had done—sacrifice herself for the good of his family, but how it hurt. It hurt so bad she wasn’t sure she could survive it.
Arriving in Heathrow, Jillian purchased the cheapest ticket she could on a U.S. airline, which ended up being to Houston, Texas.
She didn’t want to go to Houston. But she didn’t know where else to go. The problem was, she didn’t want to go to the States. She wanted to jump back on a plane for Catania. She wanted to tell Vittorio she couldn’t live without him and yet she was so afraid of him being hurt. For the two hours before her flight, Jillian wandered around the international terminal in a fog.
Nothing about leaving Paterno felt right.
Nothing about leaving Joe and Vittorio felt right.
But what else could she do?
What else should she have done?
She should have talked to Vitt. She should have trusted him, because somewhere inside of her she knew he could handle the very real things she was afraid of. Look at his father. Look at what he’d gone through in his own life. He wasn’t a man who crumbled in the face of adversity. He was a man who met it head on. Fierce. Tough. Unflinching.
Instead she’d tried to handle everything on her own, the way she had for the past fourteen years.
But her way didn’t work. Her way meant she was lonely. Her way meant leaving everyone she loved behind.
There had to be a better way. Because this way was hell. It was madness.
It was breaking her heart.
She’d had enough of heartbreak and madness. She’d suffered through far too much pain.
If only she could reach Vitt. If only she could call him before it was too late. He might be angry but she thought perhaps he’d understand. Perhaps he’d realize she was trying to do the right thing, trying to be strong, trying to be independent, which in this case, seemed to be absolutely wrong.
If only she knew how to trust better. If only she could trust him.
And then it hit her. She did.
Jillian raced to find a bank of phones, but there weren’t many in the airport, not with so many people carrying their own phones now. Finally she found a cluster of phones, but as she picked up the receiver she realized she didn’t even know Vittorio’s number, nor did she have a number for his family.
What about his office in Catania? Surely that would be listed. She called information and gave him the d’Severano name, asking if they had any businesses by that listing. They did not. And then she ran out of ideas, because she didn’t know the name of his company.
Just as she hadn’t taken the time to really know Vitt.
There was so much she’d do differently given the chance. So much she wanted to know, so many things she wanted to do with him.
Travel, explore, talk, make love.
Have more kids.
An announcement sounded through the terminal that Continental Airlines was now boarding their afternoon flight to Houston.
Heart in her mouth, she watched the other passengers line up at the gate. She watched all two hundred passengers board, but her legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t line up. Couldn’t do it.
The gate personnel were finished boarding but they didn’t close the door. Instead the gate agent paged her. “Jillian Smith, this is your final call. Jillian Smith, your final call for Continental Airlines Flight 52.”
Jillian glanced down at the boarding pass crumpled in her damp hand, and then at the gate agent, and realized that even though her initial reaction was to leave her family to protect them, she knew it was the wrong one.
Family didn’t leave family.
Family didn’t betray family.
Family protected family.
And Jillian needed hers.
It struck her that she didn’t have to run anymore. She didn’t have to be afraid. She had Vittorio. He was smart. He was strong. And he could be trusted.
Eyes burning, throat aching, she picked up her small carry-on bag and turned her back on fear, and walked through the terminal, past security, out the airport terminal to the curb.
It was twilight and the sky was lavender and gray. Jillian stood on the curb trying to figure out how she’d get back to Catania and what she’d say to Vitt once she got there when a deep voice spoke behind her.
“Thinking of going somewhere?”
Vittorio.
Usually deep and calm, his voice sounded rough and as if he was in pain.
She turned to face the man who’d turned her life upside down in the best way possible. He looked tall and handsome and worried. He looked so very dear. It didn’t hurt that he had a small boy in his arms that meant everything to her.
“Yes,” she said, tears filling her eyes as she looked at the two people she loved most in the world. “I want to go home.”
For fourteen years she’d had to take care of herself. For fourteen years she’d had to pretend she didn’t need anything from anyone, when in truth, she needed everything.
Love, comfort, tenderness, support.
“I want to go home with you. Please take me back to Paterno,” she choked.
The haunted expression lifted from Vittorio’s dark eyes and then he slowly smiled. “I hoped you’d say that.”
“Oh, Vitt, I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know that I got scared, but I’m so tired of being scared, Vitt. I’m so tired of running and looking over my shoulder and worrying the bad guys will find me.”
“I guess one found you this morning,” Vitt said, wrapping his free arm around her, bringing her close to him.
“Yes.” She pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling the warmth of her husband and son. “But I should have come to you, Vitt. I should have told you. You wouldn’t have panicked. You would have known what to do.”
“Marco can’t hurt you,” Vitt answered, brushing his lips across her brow as his arm squeezed tighter around her waist. “The FBI were able to trace his call. It came from near a cell tower in downtown Detroit and the Detroit police arrested him an hour ago. The police have been looking for him since your sister’s death, and now they have him. He’s going away for a long time. He won’t ever be able to threaten you again.”
Jillian’s lips curved in a watery smile. “So you did know what to do.”
“I’m a d’Severano, cara. I know how to take care of my family.”
His deep voice rumbled through her, his tone fierce, proud. “Am I still your family?”
“Forever.”
Tears filled her eyes. Her chest grew tight and she struggled to take a breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you right away. I was just so scared he’d hurt you or Joe or someone else in your family—”
Vitt reached up to wipe her tears away. “I understand. Just as I understand you’ve had no one to be there for you since you were a little girl. But we’ll work on trust, and we’ll learn to be a strong family together, yes?”
“Yes.” She blinked to clear her vision. “So you’re not mad at me?”
“Of course not.”
Joe wiggled in Vittorio’s arms, and reached out with both arms to Jillian. “Mama.”
Jillian looked up, over Joe’s head, to Vitt. “Can I hold him?”
“You better. Your little boy cried for you endlessly on the plane. Fortunately it was my own plane so no one complained.”
Jillian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. And then she laughed because Vittorio had the most amazing way of making her feel good. With him, life was the way she’d always dreamed it should be.
“Can we go home now?” she asked.
“Most definitely.”
EPILOGUE
eleven-a
nd-a-half-month-old Joseph was supposed to be the ring boy, but he refused to walk down the aisle in his miniature black suit to the front of the d’Severano chapel where Vitt waited in his elegant black tuxedo. Instead Joseph walked down the aisle swinging his pillow in circles before stopping at his grandfather’s wheelchair at the outside of the wooden pews.
“Up,” he said to Salvatore, dropping his pillow. “Up, Papa,” he repeated, wanting to be put on his grandfather’s lap, because in his nine days in Paterno he’d learned to love many things and many people but his grandfather Salvatore was probably his favorite.
His grandmother Theresa put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder and tried to steer her grandson toward the front of the chapel, but Joseph squawked in protest.
Checking his smile, Vitt stepped down from the stone steps before the altar and placed his son on his father’s lap.
“Vittorio,” his mother said softly, reprovingly, slim and chic as ever in a pale silvery-gray fitted gown.
Vitt shrugged. “It’s his day, too. He should sit where he wants, and if he wants his grandfather, who am I to say no?”
Salvatore smiled at Vitt and then down at Joseph as the little boy squirmed to get closer to Salvatore’s chest.
Vittorio clapped his father on the shoulder and then returned to the front of the church as the string quartet played the first bright notes by Vivaldi.
Jillian appeared in the arched doors at the back of the chapel. The ends of the pews were decorated with flowers. The old stone chapel glowed with candlelight. Guests crowded the pews but Jillian only had eyes for Vittorio who looked impossibly handsome in his black tux and white dress shirt with the white tie.
Hers, she thought, on a quick breath. He was hers. And she knew he’d always be hers.
Her lover. Her partner. Her husband.
She walked down the aisle on her own, her ivory gown rustling, her legs shaking with every step, yet knowing that once she reached the front of the chapel she’d never be alone again. She’d have Vittorio. She’d have his family. They’d be a family.
Reaching the front of the chapel, Vitt stepped forward to take her hand. His beautiful face looked somber in the candlelight but then he smiled and love raced through her, love, desire and joy.