“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” he suddenly murmured hoarsely and she stared back at him uncomprehendingly.
“You were just being honest,” she finally whispered and his brows slammed together in a formidable frown.
“No! I mean… yes I was but… you misunderstood me,” he sounded completely muddled and Theresa stared up into his harsh face in wonder, not entirely sure what to make of this overly-emotional man in front of her.
“So make me understand,” she finally invited, after a long and uncomfortable pause. He seemed shocked by the invitation and for a moment looked unable to respond.
“I meant that the baby’s sex made no difference to me either way because I would love it regardless of what it was,” he said in a rush and she gaped up at him incredulously for a moment before placing both hands on his chest and pushing him away violently. He was taken by surprise and staggered back, nearly sprawling to the wet tarmac before catching himself and finding his balance.
“Why would you say that? Why would you lie like that? I don’t deserve it, Sandro… I haven’t done anything to deserve any of this but you keep finding new and creative ways to hurt me.” She went back to fumbling in her bag and finally found her keys.
“Don’t try to pretend that you care,” she hissed at him. “I know you don’t. Five more months of this and you’ll be free to go back to your Francesca and start your real life with a real wife and babies that you will really love!” He seemed stunned by her attack but her mention of Francesca brought his eyes sharply up to hers.
“What? Did you think I didn’t know about your precious Francesca? The woman you love, the woman you wanted to marry before my father forced you into this sham? I know you see her every time you go back to Italy, just like I know you’ll be going to her when you go back this week!” She was practically screaming now, frustrated by the way he simply stood there. Like someone who’d been caught in a bomb blast, he looked dazed and shocked.
She was starting to feel strange, light-headed and nauseous. She braced her hands on the roof of her car and tried to steady herself, aware that Sandro was moving toward her. His hands reached for her and she weakly tried to evade his grasp but the movement made her even dizzier and she swayed slightly. Sandro’s arms wrapped around her and she was too faint to really care.
“Theresa, cara. I‘m here. You’re okay…” were the last desperate words she heard from her husband before everything went black.
“When I said she shouldn’t overtax herself, I meant both physically and emotionally Mr de Lucci,” Theresa heard the sharp admonishment in the slightly familiar voice and frowned as she tried to hear over the weird buzzing sound in her head. “What on earth were you thinking, upsetting her like this less than half an hour after the procedure she’d just been through?”
“Will she be okay?” Theresa heard Sandro’s unusually subdued voice over the rapidly subsiding buzz and she wondered at the strange panicky edge in it.
“She bled a little, which is never a good sign and I’m not willing to take any chances, not after this, I want her to remain in bed for at least a week. Complete bed rest.”
“I can’t stay in bed all week,” Theresa suddenly protested, opening her eyes and Sandro surged forward to grab up one of her limp hands.
“Theresa, thank God! How are you feeling?”
.“Like I was hit by a bus,” she admitted shakily, lifting her eyes to the doctor who stood on the other side of the cot. “My baby? Is he alright?”
“Your baby’s just fine. In fact the baby is doing a hell of a lot better than you are right now, Mrs de Lucci. I want you to stay in bed for a week, you are to do nothing, is that understood?”
“I take it that I am allowed bathroom breaks?” She asked sarcastically.
“You can get as snippy as you like with me, young lady but if you want a healthy, full-term baby, you will do what I say! Or I will be forced to hospitalize you to ensure that you get the prescribed bed rest.”
“She’ll do what you’ve ordered, doctor,” Sandro assured grimly and Theresa bit her lip and nodded. She wouldn’t risk her baby’s life out of sheer perversity.
“Right,” the doctor seemed satisfied. “I’d like to keep her here for tonight. Tomorrow, you may take her home… and try to get beyond the parking lot this time.” With that final admonishment, he turned and left the room, grumbling under his breath as he did so. Theresa and Sandro watched as the door swung shut behind him before turning to face each other awkwardly.
“I’m sorry,” they both blurted out simultaneously after a long pause.
“Why are you sorry?” Sandro asked in confusion, dragging up a chair and sitting down beside the bed, still clutching her hand like it was a life preserver and he a drowning man.
“I shouldn’t have brought up your private life like that. What you do after we split up is none of my business and after… after everything my father has done to you, I honestly believe that you deserve the happiness you’ll find with the woman you love. So I’m sorry for overreacting like a hysterical fishwife, I just… I got so angry after what you said. I don’t need empty platitudes… you don’t have to say anything to make me feel better about our situation. You really don’t have to pretend to care about me or about the baby.” He swore shakily, lifting her hand and resting his forehead on the back of it.
“What an unholy mess I’ve made of things,” he half-laughed, his voice sounding strained. “Nothing I say now will ever make a difference to how you feel, will it? Everything I try to say or do will come across as desperate and insincere.”