“You’ve never met them?”
“There’s no place for them in my life.” That’s what he’d always thought, but he heard how cold it sounded, especially as she looked so askance.
“You could have made one.”
“What would I have in common with them?”
“Parents?”
“They didn’t act like parents.” He shook the cubes of ice in his glass, wondering if he could judge when he’d barely grasped the ropes himself. “Neither were a great example of the importance of sibling relationships, either. I was young, but I picked up on jealousy and resentment between my mother and her sister. Because of her marriage into royalty, I suppose. And my father lost his brother.”
“It wasn’t his fault, was it?” She gathered Tyrol to her shoulder, tucking his blanket around him. “How old was he?”
“He was sixteen, his brother was eighteen. It was just a bad wind that came up while he was sailing. My father didn’t talk about him often, but when he did...” Xavier swallowed, still affected by the memory of his father growing teary. “He missed him. Made me think I was better off without that kind of risk.”
“But you’ll give Tyrol a sibling.”
“I have to.” It was the stark truth, but again he heard how indifferent it made him sound when really his emotions on the matter were so tangled he couldn’t even begin to name them.
Her brows pulled together and her mouth pouted. “I’ll do it because I want to.”
Without his need for biological children, many options were open to her, adoption among them. He suppressed a flinch, surprised how much it hurt to think of her starting a family with another man.
“You should,” he made himself say. “You’re a natural at motherhood. Family is clearly your source of strength.”
She stared at him like he was a dog that had been hit on the highway.
“Are you going up?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Leave him with me. I’ll put him down when he falls asleep.”
Her mouth twitched, but if she was surprised at his desire to hold his son, it was quickly blinked away. He let out a breath as she placed the boy’s warm weight in his hands, relaxing as he embraced one of the few responsibilities he was pleased to have.
Trella hovered, watching Tyrol rub his fist against his cheek, chasing it with his mouth. They shared a chuckle at his efforts, but Xavier’s was bittersweet.
“My family was not yours, bella. The way you are with them is a foreign culture to me. I can’t emulate something I never had. But I do want Tyrol to be happy. Happier than I was.”
Her hand settled on his shoulder. It was unnerving not only because they hadn’t touched since she’d been in the hospital, but because she gathered the torment rippling through him into a hot ball in the corner of his chest, so it pulsed under the feathery weight of her fingers. He held very still, as if her hand was a shy bird and he didn’t want to startle her into flitting away.
“I know.” Her thumb moved in a brief caress. “And I know you’re starting to love him. I’m glad.”
His heart swerved as her hand lifted and he watched her retreat.
* * *
Trella was trying hard to resign herself to Xavier’s limitations. Gili had hugged her and wiped her tears and said, “Give it time.” Things had been rough between her and Kasim before they’d married. She wasn’t ready to give up on Trella finding happiness with Xavier, but that was Gili. She wanted to believe the best of everyone and everything.
Trella wasn’t so sure, but she took heart from the way Tyrol had begun prying himself through Xavier’s defenses. Xavier took every opportunity to hold his son. Not for optics. No one was seeing him walk down the hall in the middle of the night. He wanted to hold him. He expressed concern about a little spit-up, then worried the damp patch would make Tyrol uncomfortable and changed him. He talked to his son about architecture, for heaven’s sake, then broke off when he realized Trella was listening.
Still, when she had accused him of starting to love his son, she suspected he had been more surprised by his capacity to do so than she was.
And therein lay the problem. She had told him she didn’t want to be married to a man who didn’t want her. She had meant a man who didn’t love her. If there was a chance he might develop feelings for her, surely she owed it to Tyrol to give their marriage a chance?
Or was that a foolish rationalization because she was smitten?
Either way, she had to keep the struggle off her face and smile for the wedding photos. Ramon and Isidora’s marriage should be perfect, even if hers wasn’t.