She carried some wine glasses into the kitchen and was returning to the table to collect the remnants of a cheese platter when the wooden doors to the restaurant swished inwards.
Expecting that one of the guests had returned, perhaps having forgotten something, the very last person she expected to see was Gabe Montebello. His eyes pinned her to the spot the second he entered the room. Dressed in a tuxedo, he looked as though he’d been at an incredibly formal event. Her emotions went crazy, rioting through her.
“Gabe.” His name was a whisper on her lips, a weakness before she could bring herself under control, pulling a shield around herself with difficulty.
“How was dinner?”
His voice was thick and raw, gravelled so her knees felt unstable. Her fingers tingled with a yearning to reach out and touch him.
She turned to the table. A couple of the waiters were clearing it now. She moved awkwardly away from it. “A success, I think.” She frowned, her mind racing, her stomach in knots. “Except one guest didn’t show up.”
“He came, just late.”
Her lips parted. Gabe was the mystery last-minute inclusion? Her eyes swept shut. “Why?” A hoarse whisper.
“Joining the dinner seemed like a good idea at first, but then, I worried I would distract you.”
His assessment was accurate.
“Why come at all, I mean?”
“I wanted to see you.”
She shook her head. She wasn’t prepared for this. Not enough time had passed. She hadn’t grown strong enough to see him and pretend she was okay. She scratched her fingernails into her palms.
“I needed to see you.” The correction pounded at her chest.
She moved further away from the table, through the restaurant and towards the windows. Times Square was a hive of activity.
“Why?” A plaintive whisper, a surrender to sadness. She didn’t care that he’d likely heard it.
She was too tired to pretend any more.
“The day you left Villa Fortune…”
“Christmas day,” she reminded him, bitterness etched into her soul. How quickly things had gone from perfection to misery!
“Right.” His voice was hoarse, and came from right beside her. She didn’t turn to look at him. She heard his breathing, rough and uneven. “Everyone was asking me about you. About you and me,” he clarified. “From first thing in the morning, I was being ambushed with questions about what I felt for you, what you meant to me, what my plans were for our future. It was…exasperating and infuriating.”
She bristled, her spine straight, her eyes fixed on the activity below. She wished she were down there, anonymous in the heaving crowd, unseen and alone.
“I got pissed off. Sure, I know they mean well, but my family just drive me crazy sometimes.” She felt him shift; her heart splintered. His voice grew low. “When Nico spoke to me, I was at breaking point.”
She kept her face averted, feeling that everything was at stake. She didn’t want him to know that she’d heard the way he spoke about her.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
Her nerve endings went into overdrive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, looking at him before she could stop herself.
Sympathy softened his features; his voice was low. “Yes, you do. You were in the Morning Room, by the window. You must have heard everything we said.”
Her lips parted. “How did you know?”
“Your video.”
Her eyes squeezed shut. “You watched it?”
He didn’t answer her question. “I said whatever I could to make him shut up. I just wanted people to stop asking about us. I didn’t want to have to answer questions, I didn’t want to have to explain anything about you and me to another soul.”
“There was no ‘you and me’,” she said quietly.
He grimaced, reached out for her hand. She stepped away quickly; if he touched her, she’d explode.
“Don’t,” she shook her head quickly.
His sigh was laced with frustration. “I said you didn’t mean anything to me, but that was completely untrue.”
Her heart stammered.
“There was always a risk that things between us would become more complicated. I knew that from the outset.”
She angled her face back towards the window.
“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known.”
A ghost of a smile, completely lacking in humour, marred her face. It was a sad smile, a haunted, aching expression. “You don’t have to do this.” She mustered all her strength, ready to say whatever she needed to make him disappear. She wouldn’t let him pity her more than he already did. “I did overhear your conversation, and I’m sorry for that. I wish I hadn’t, but at the same time, it was good for me to know how you feel.” She gnawed at her lower lip. “You’re right. It became complicated. It was easy for me to believe that things between us had changed, that we were more than just…a fling.” The last word wobbled with the heaviness of her heart.
“You fell in love with me.”
Her eyes were huge in her face. “What...?”
“Your video,” he reminded her.
She groaned softly. That damned video! She’d posted it in a completely different mindset, before she’d heard his pragmatic description of their relationship. She thought about denying it but that was anathema to her. So she stayed quiet, the air between them crackling with emotion.
“I told you not to do that.”
Her eyes sparked to his. “You think it’s that simple?”
“I told you it was a bad idea.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t really a choice, Gabe. It’s not like I rolled a dice to decide if I’d love you or not.”
His nostrils flared. “This isn’t –,” he shook his head. “I’m trying to explain…”
“You don’t need to explain,” she hissed, then realising belatedly that they weren’t alone, that the staff were clearing tables around them, she lowered her voice. “I heard how you feel about me. You think you were just getting rid of Nico? I disagree. I heard the conviction in your voice, the truth underlying it. You wanted me to leave. You wanted me out of your life.”
“Si.” And despite everything, the abruptness of his answer tore through her.
Tears tingled behind her eyes. She blinked furiously, determined not to let them fall.
“God, Gabe.” It was a plea. Why was he here? Why had he come?
“I wanted you gone, but not because of you.”
“Oh, great. It’s not you, it’s me?”
“It’s true. I made a decision after Carmen died that I would never let myself have what she couldn’t. I pledged that I would never get married, never have children – everything I denied her I intended to deny myself. And then you showed up and for the first time in seven years I wanted to forget all about that pledge. I wanted to ignore what I owe Carmen and just be with you. All the time. Always.” He cleared his throat. “For the first time in seven years, I felt alive and…happy…and it was all because of you.”
She swallowed hard, her heart aching even as something like hope lifted her spirits, ever so slightly.
“I don’t deserve how you made me feel. So yes, I wanted you to leave again.”
“So you could forget all about me and go back to hating yourself for a goddamned accident?” She forgot to lower her voice; she no longer cared about being heard.
His silence was all the confirmation she needed. Hope died. He cared about her, she knew that was true, but it didn’t matter. He was determined to stay miserable and alone. He would push her away until she broke; and she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
“I couldn’t bear to know you believed what I said. That you didn’t mean anything to me. That I wanted you to leave. I couldn’t bear for you to think any of that was about you.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m so messed up, Isabella.”
“Yes, you are.” She swallowed past a lump in her th
roat. “You could have died that day, alongside Carmen. Does it ever occur to you that you should be living double your life – for her and yourself? That instead of acting as though you also died, you live your life as a tribute to her, doing everything she’ll never get the chance to do? You should live for her, love for her, smile for her, laugh for her. She doesn’t deserve to be the millstone around your neck, a burden you carry. She should be a gift you honour, someone you spend every day of your life paying tribute to by being your best damned version of yourself. Anything less is an insult. And to do that in her name? No way. If you want to be miserable, then do it for yourself. Don’t pin it on her.”
He stared at her in obvious shock. Her words whipped around the room, their reverberation and after affects like the clanging of a cymbal.
“It’s not—a millstone.”
“Yes, it is. You’re turning her into a burden you have to carry and no offense, but I doubt she’d be very happy with that. Live your life, Gabe. Live it with me, live it without me, but stop turning some poor woman into an excuse to wall yourself off from everybody. She deserves better.”
He looked towards the window, his profile tense.
“You got to live. You escaped. So live. You owe her that much.”
His eyes, when he looked at her, were so uncertain. She wanted to reassure him, to tell him that she was – unequivocally – right, but at the same time, her own hurts kept her still. She wasn’t sure she could take another rejection.
“Was there anything else?”
More surprise etched his features. “I – yes. Just – ,”
She waited, but it was impossible. He stared at her, and she sensed the world was careening off its axis for both of them. She pressed her palm into the ice-cold window, needing support.
He was searching for words, but Isabella couldn’t take any more of this. Gabe hadn’t changed. He wanted to live his life in misery and she couldn’t stick around and watch that. She loved him, but she needed to get away from him.
Self-preservation instincts took over.
“It’s late, and I’m tired. I want to go back to my hotel.”
“Wait.” He reached out, grabbing her wrist. The touch sent sparks of live electricity through her bloodstream, just as she’d known it would.
“Don’t,” she groaned, but without pulling away.
“You deserve better than this,” he said with a sound of impatience. “I wish I knew exactly how to say what I’m feeling, and what I want, but it’s all a jumble. Maybe I don’t have enough experience or maybe it’s just that what I feel is too enormous to be adequately filtered into words. Does that make sense? Maybe not. All I know is that I want to be with you. You turned my world upside down and my first instinct was to panic, and push you away, but when you left, I realised how wrong that was. I can’t – don’t want – to live without you.”
Her stomach twisted.
“I think you’re right about Carmen.”
The words were heavy, a frown on his face. She stared at him, her heart like a drum.
“Maybe it’s easier to live in isolation than it is to risk hurting someone again. Losing someone again,” he continued gruffly.
“I’m sure it is,” she said quietly, her emotions like a rollercoaster.
“I can’t lose you.” He lifted his hands, cupping her face.
Her lips parted. She tried to stay strong, to remember how he’d hurt her, to remember his rejection, but it was impossible when he was staring at her as though she was the beginning and end of his world.
“I fought this but I think it was inevitable from the minute you blew into Il Nido, like a lovely little iceblock I couldn’t ignore. You brought me back to life, cara.”
She expelled a wobbly breath.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” she whispered. “I told myself all along that I wouldn’t, but somehow…”
His eyes were gentle as they probed hers. “Yes, somehow,” he agreed. “The thing is, I fell in love with you too.”
She made a sound of surprise.
“That’s what I came here to say. I love you. And more than that, in the course of a week you became my family – my other half. When you left Italy and I didn’t even have your number, I felt like the bottom had fallen out of my world.”
“I couldn’t…I didn’t want you to call. It took all my courage to walk away once, I didn’t think I’d be brave enough again. I needed a completely clean break.”
“It almost killed me, watching you go,” he groaned. “I’m such a fool not to have understood. Everyone else saw what you meant to me. I just didn’t – wasn’t prepared – to realise.”
“But you finally did?”
He nodded. “Thank God.” He stared down at her, long and hard. “I love you. Completely. With all my heart. You make me want to grab life with both hands, to live it side by side with you.”
Her heart was twisting over and over.
“So I am here to ask if you’ll consider coming home with me. To Italy.” He frowned. “Or to wherever you want to be. Just…let me be a part of your life, to earn my way back into your heart.”
She groaned. “You never left my heart, you idiot. Love isn’t like that.” He closed the distance between them completely, his breath warm against her temple.
“This I can vouch for.” He caught her hand and lifted it to his chest. “You have filled my heart up; you’re the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing at night. I will love you with my dying breath, cara, if you’ll let me.”
What could she say? She’d been pushed away so many times but never drawn close, never promised the world as Gabe was promising it now. She lifted up onto the tips of her toes, knowing that she was exactly where she needed to be – and with whom.
Her lips brushed his, a silent acceptance.
“I suppose I’ll allow it,” she teased.
He grinned, then deepened the kiss, drawing her fully into her arms. A moment later, he broke away, pinning her with a look that was sheer determination. “And obviously you’ll marry me?”
It was so like Gabe, so arrogant and cocky, so detail orientated, that she burst out laughing.
“Yes, I’ll do that too.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I’m happy.”
He relaxed. “I intend to make you very happy,” he said conversationally, putting an arm around her waist and walking towards the table.
“You already have.”
“Can we go back to your hotel?”
“Yep. Just wait a second.”
She disappeared into the kitchen, smiling shyly at the staff who’d obviously witnessed some sort of romantic moment, though not the details. She assembled leftovers from the dinner into several takeaway containers, placed them in a plastic bag then rejoined Gabe.
“What’s this?”
“Your dinner. You did pay fifty thousand dollars for it, after all.”
“I paid for the opportunity to see you,” he said with a lopsided smile, opening the door for Isabella.
“You don’t want the food?”
“On the contrary, it smells amazing, but it’s not why I’m here.”
She laughed again. “I gathered.”
On the sidewalk outside the restaurant, he kissed the tip of her nose then lifted a hand in a silent gesture to his driver.
“Where are we going?” He asked, as Isabella slid in.
“Anywhere.” She blinked up at him, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.
He stared down at her, nodding once. “As long as it’s together.”
It was exactly as Isabella felt. In the depths of her soul, beyond any shadows that might allow doubt, she knew her life would be spent with this man, and more than that, just as she’d hoped when she’d set off on this trip, on a quest to discover her roots and heritage, she’d found her way to her home, and to family – and to everlasting happiness too.
“I told you it was for
you.” Paula Montebello held out the recipe book, a knowing smile on her beautiful, lined face.
Isabella’s expression matched Yaya’s as she swept across the entranceway of Villa Fortune, Gabe at her side.
“And I knew you would be back,” she said with a wink at Gabe.
Gabe grimaced. “I wish I had shared your confidence. Until New York, I had no idea if Isabella would ever be able to forgive me for my stupidity.”
“We are all stupid when we are in love,” Yaya said with a grin.
“Even you?”
“Oh, the stupidest of them all,” she put a frail hand on Isabella’s forearm and leaned closer. “Come, let us have some lunch and I will tell you all about it.”
“I’d like that, Paula.”
“Please, you must call me Yaya. You’re family now.”
Family. The word buzzed in Isabella’s mind as the three of them made their way to the pool, where a table had been set for lunch. It was a clear day, and despite the season, the sun lent some warmth to the space.
She’d come to Italy looking for the truth about her own family and instead she’d found her way home – and she’d never been happier.
Six months later
Samir stared at the email with a flash of impatience.
From: Fiero Montebello
To: HRH Samir al Husseini
Subject: Our grandmother
Samir,
Yaya had another stroke last night. I don’t know any more than that for now, but if you wanted to see her, you should come to Italy.
I know it would mean a lot to her.
Best wishes,
Fiero.
Beautifully Broken (The Montebellos Book 6) Page 20