The Rinucci Brothers: Wife and Mother Forever / Her Italian Boss's Agenda / The Wedding Arrangement

He fell silent. Evie slipped her arms about him and leaned against his body as they stood there in the window. But she too said nothing, because in the face of such a terrible story there was nothing to say.

Chapter Eight

AFTER that they didn’t speak of it again. He had said as much as he could bear to, and Evie’s instincts told her to leave it. She must start getting to know this man again from the beginning.

Everything she had thought true about him was now reversed. Instead of the harsh bully, manipulating her for ulterior motives, there was a forlorn child desperately wondering what he’d done wrong to be so unloved. That child would remain a part of him all his life, making him so vulnerable to slights and rejections that he could only cope by being the first to attack.

She smiled to think how annoyed it would make him to be seen in this light. It was something she would have to keep to herself.

They didn’t tell Mark why the atmosphere had suddenly become happier, and he never mentioned the nights he awoke to find Justin’s bed empty, and went contentedly back to sleep. His air of strain fell away and he smiled more, but, like his father, he knew how to keep his own counsel.

One night, as they lay peacefully in bed, Justin said, ‘So what was all that about Andrew?’

She gave a gasp of laughter.

‘Don’t remind me what a fool I was. I guess I wanted to believe I was in love with him, and the effort to convince myself was tying me in knots.’

‘But why?’

‘You once said that no man had ever offered me lifetime commitment—’

‘I once said a lot of tomfool things. You shouldn’t listen to me.’

‘I try not to, but you’re hard to shut out when you get going,’ she said indignantly. ‘And you really annoyed me that time, talking as though I’m some Victorian wallflower grasping at her last chance. I’d kick you if I had the energy.’

He grinned and kissed her. ‘So what’s the real story?’

‘I’ve always been the one fleeing commitment. It sounded so boring. I love my life, the freedom, the variety—’

‘The motorbike.’

‘Yup. There was never a man who made me want to change it, but I thought, if I waited long enough, I’d meet one. And suddenly I was nearly thirty and Andrew was such a sweet guy that I—well—’

‘You decided he’d “do”.’

‘You make it sound terrible, but yes, I suppose that’s true. I was starting to feel lonely, so I decided on Andrew. But I was always forcing it, and of course he knew something was wrong.’

‘When you’d stood him up often enough he got the message?’ Justin said with the amiable derision of the conqueror for his defeated rival.

‘Well, I’m glad he did, and found someone who suits him better.’

‘You can’t be sure he has.’

She gave a soft chuckle. ‘Yes, I can. Anyone would suit him better than me, and that girl sounded as though he’d made her very happy.’

They lay in sleepy contentment for a while. She was wondering how to broach the subject on her mind. At last she murmured, ‘Have you told Mark that you bought the cottage?’

‘No. I wasn’t sure what to say, when you were so mad at me.’

‘Only because I misunderstood. I thought you were—never mind. I was wrong. I heard from the lawyer this morning. He’s paid all Uncle Joe’s debts and sent me a cheque for the balance.’

‘So I suppose you’re going to throw that back at me?’ His tone was deceptively light, but now she could hear the dread beneath.

‘Nope,’ she said cheerfully, snuggling up to him. ‘I’m going to put it in the bank and make whoopee!’

‘I’m glad.’

‘Seriously, I’ll use it to do some repairs to the cottage—that is—if it’s still mine.’

He’d seized her into his arms before she’d finished speaking, using his mouth to incite and tease her towards what they both now wanted. But through his desire she also sensed passionate relief that she had finally accepted his offering, taking the sting out of her earlier rejection.

It would be good to believe that the revelations had made everything right, or at least given her the key to helping him. With her he’d found a kind of happiness, but that alone could not slay the demons of dread and insecurity that were devouring him inside. The darkness was not so easily defeated.

He still flared up about small things. His temper always died quickly, and he would apologise in a way that revealed his fear that he’d drive her away. She forgave him readily, but she worried about him.

Even more troubling were the times that he controlled his inner turbulence and went away to suffer alone, returning with a bright smile and an air of strain.

Once, when Mark had gone to bed and a chilly spell had made them light the log fire and stretch out on the old sofa before it, she asked him, ‘Justin, how long can you go on like this?’

He shrugged. At one time it would have seemed dismissive, but now she understood his confusion.

‘As long as there is,’ he said. ‘What else can I do?’

‘The first time I saw you I thought how angry you were. As I came to know you better I realised that you were angry all the time. No matter what happens it’s always there below the surface, waiting for something to trigger it, never giving you any peace.’

‘I’m sorry I lost it today—’

‘That’s all right. You said sorry at the time, and you bought Mark that computer game to make up for it.’

‘Yes, and he put it on my computer and I couldn’t get to it for hours,’ he said with resignation. ‘Be fair, I didn’t lose my temper about that.’

‘No, you showed the patience of a saint. You even let him teach you the game and beat you.’

He managed a faint grin. ‘I didn’t let him beat me. He beat me. And he enjoyed crowing at my expense. He’s a great kid, Evie. I even think—’

‘No,’ she said urgently. ‘You’re not going to change the subject. It’s you we’re talking about. You’re not happy—’

‘Yes, I am,’ he said, tightening his arms about her. ‘A little more of Dr Evie’s Magic Balm and I’ll be sweetness and light all the time.’

‘Not in a million years! Besides, I don’t think I’d like you as sweetness and light. I wouldn’t recognise you, for one thing.’ He gave a muffled laugh against her hair. ‘Besides, a magic balm only works on the outside. You need something to work on the inside.’

‘Evie, I’m not ill.’

‘You’re being devoured alive, and that’s a kind of sickness.’

‘You do the psycho-babble very well,’ he said lightly.

But she would not let him put her off. ‘Stop that,’ she said urgently. ‘I know what you’re trying to do.’