Carlos turned to his new bride. Finally, finally, they could celebrate. Her brittle smile gave him pause. Something had been off with Lilah since she’d returned from his father’s room. But she’d denied as much, telling him she was simply concerned about Enrique. That they should all focus on the surgery and nothing else. And he had. For nine long, gut-wrenching hours, that had been all he’d thought about.
But with the good news from the king’s doctor easing his fears for his father, Carlos now had the clarity to see something was definitely wrong.
She touched his knee lightly. “I’m glad your father and brother both came through so well. If you don’t need me anymore, I would like to go back to the hotel.”
“You must be tired.” He hadn’t considered what a physical toll this would take on a pregnant woman. As a doctor, he should have known better. He should have been looking out for her. “Of course. I’ll drive you over.”
“It’s okay.” She flinched away from his touch. “I can get there on my own. You stay here where you’re needed.”
Before he could sort through her words, she started down the tiled corridor, weaving around an aide rolling a laundry cart. What the hell was going on?
She hadn’t said anything specific that he could fault. She had every reason in the world to be exhausted. But in the short span of their marriage, not once had she left his side without a kiss. A squeeze of his hand. Some gesture of warmth he’d already grown accustomed to. Now, something in her eyes shouted anger.
Hurt.
And he’d seen that look in her eyes before, a little less than three months ago. She’d stepped into his kitchen—wearing his shirt and looking so damn right in his clothes, in his house, in his life that he’d lost it. He’d shut her out.
Hell. He’d done exactly what he was doing now. He was letting her walk away.
Carlos charged after her, cursing under his breath at his bum leg that made catching her painful and slow.
Finally, he called out, bracing a hand against the hall wall. “Lilah? Lilah, stop.”
She slowed and turned silently beside the gleaming stained glass of the hospital chapel door.
Limping, he closed the distance between them in the deserted late-night corridor. “What’s really going on here?”
“Just what I said.” She folded her arms over her chest, pulling her cotton dress tighter over her full br**sts. “I’m returning to the hotel.”
“Wait and I’ll come with you,” he repeated his offer from earlier.
“There’s no need to pretend anymore, Carlos.” Her voice was low and tight, her emerald eyes so sad they sliced right through him. “I’m not going to spill the beans to a critically ill man.”
Unease scratched at his gut. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Blinking fast, she looked around impatiently, then tugged him into the chapel. Her eyes glinted with a deep hurt. “Your father told me how you persuaded him to get the surgery. How you gave him hope with this baby.”
He couldn’t deny what she’d said, but he needed to figure out something to diffuse the sadness radiating off her. “Is it so wrong to want to do whatever it takes to give my father a reason to live?”
“Whatever it takes?” She laughed once but her face was devoid of any humor. “We shouldn’t have this discussion now. We’re both wiped out, and you should be with your family.”
“I’m here with you.”
“For how long?” She stopped short and held up her hands, a row of candles behind her casting a glow around her. “Forget I said that.”
“No,” he said tightly. Yes, he’d maneuvered the situation, but in a way that was best for everyone. “We got married, and pardon me if I don’t see where that makes me a bad guy.”
She backed away from him, deeper into the dimly lit chapel. “I blame myself, too, you know. I was so gullible in believing your quick turnaround in accepting the baby. I mean really, it’s only been what? Less than a week since I confronted you in your office and you denied your own child.”
Her tearful words pierced through bit by bit until he realized… “You actually believe I had some ulterior motive for marrying you?”
“Your father refuses to have surgery, then you magically give him a reason to live, thanks to this life inside me that you’ve never felt any connection to at all.” She clutched the end of a wooden pew.
He couldn’t even refute her. She was a woman of honor and he’d treated her so dishonorably he was ashamed. He’d thrown away this chance to have a life with the child he’d never thought he would have and the loss gutted him. This offspring would be an even greater miracle than his recovering the use of his legs, and instead of doing everything in his power to ensure that child’s future, he’d spent the last week driving away the woman who carried his legacy.
“Lilah, I’m sorry,” he said simply, sincerely.
“Well, Carlos.” She backed away. “You’re a little too late, because I’m not so sure I can believe you anymore.”
Stunned by the way the day had gone sour so quickly, he watched her turn away, clearly dismissing him. Leaving him with no room for doubt.
His new bride had dumped him.
As Carlos’s uneven footsteps faded, Lilah sank onto a wooden pew, her legs giving out. She raked her wrist under her nose, sniffling up the tears and getting a noseful of scented smoke from the half-dozen candles burning by the door. Had she really just tossed away her husband of two days?
She’d kept her silence during the surgery and had planned to wait before packing her bags. Except Carlos had pressed her until the words fell out, until finally she was honest with him the way she should have been right from the start. She never should have stayed silent for months.
What a mess she’d made of her life. She thumbed the wedding set around and around on her finger, the beautiful rings that had come with such hope. A family heirloom that also cost a fortune and didn’t belong to her. She needed to return it before she left the hospital.
Stretching her legs out on the pew, she studied the diamonds sparkling as they caught and reflected the stained glass windows. She stared until her eyes grew heavy and closed as sleep drew her in. This time, she knew there wouldn’t be any dreams of Carlos waiting to greet her.
The argument with Lilah still reverberating in his head, Carlos watched his baby brother sleep, sitting vigil to give his sister-in-law a break. Sure, Antonio was only eight years younger, but Carlos still saw the kid he’d been when they left San Rinaldo. Carlos held the gold pocket watch in his hand, turning it over and over, remembering another night when their father had given Antonio the antique. They’d been preparing to leave San Rinaldo, and Enrique had told his youngest son to safeguard the timepiece until they met up again.