Sandro jerked, then nodded once, keeping his back to her as he stared at their son. “Yes. And it’s why Primo felt he had a right to this role.”
“But he’s not...” you, she wanted to say.
He lifted his head, seeming to hang on to what she’d been about to say.
“They’re not like you,” she said awkwardly. “Primo is selfish and Giacomo doesn’t have your patience. There’s no one else in the family...like you.” She wasn’t expressing herself well at all, but how did she describe his calm acceptance of responsibility, as if million-dollar decisions were nothing more than a choice between coffee or tea? He sifted through a hundred details and distilled a problem and found the solution all within seconds.
His reaction was difficult to read. His head went back a little as he absorbed her summation of his relatives, making her wonder if she’d crossed a line. Dismay curled his lip before he sighed.
“At any other time I would have defended them, but you’re right. I’ve never wanted to see it, but of course you have.” He looked at her as though reassessing her. “You keep your opinions to yourself, but you gather a lot, don’t you? You’re very astute.” He pushed his hands in his pockets, shoulders tense. “But if you think me selfless and patient, it’s because my grandfather taught me to be everything this family needs, so I could provide what my father would have given if he’d lived. I’ve let my guilt blind me, though. I’ve seen only the wrong in me, none in Giacomo. Certainly I refused to face the extent of Primo’s shortcomings. I preferred to make him into what I wanted him to be, which was a loyal partner, not an adversary.”
“He would never be as motivated to lead selflessly. He doesn’t carry your guilt, Sandro.” She found herself moving across, wanting to impress this truth in him with a touch on his arm. “As much as it hurts you, that remorse of yours is a strength.”
His face spasmed with a flash of different emotions: pain and pensive regret. A reluctant kind of acceptance. He swallowed as though he was working past deep emotion and tucked his hand against the side of her neck, thumb caressing her throat.
“I remember thinking, just after we married, that you had an original way of looking at things. I’m sorry I lost sight of that, cara. I won’t let it happen again.”
The infinitesimal threads between them, the ones that had been snapped and floating like spider silk searching for an anchor, touched and melded and began to form a bridge between them.
His expression grew even more somber and the caress on her cheek almost regretful. “You see now why I have to battle through this? Why I must refuse to step aside for Giacomo? You’ll stand by me while I hold my ground?”
“I wish you’d told me all of this before.” This was why he was so deeply bound to his family and why he was so closed off emotionally. To his mind, he must think giving in to his hot feelings that one time was the cause of his father’s death. That’s why his mother’s unbridled sentimentality and grief and cries for love made him so uncomfortable. It was both a reflection of the intemperate reaction that had gripped him that day and the reason she wasn’t still married to the man she had loved.
Octavia absently smoothed the wrinkle from his shirt, thinking of the weight these shoulders carried. She couldn’t help but want to ease his burden. “I don’t know what I can do to help,” she murmured. Had he not noticed that she didn’t even have the guts to defy him and strike out on her own?
“Be here,” he said, the words somewhere between demand and entreaty. “Be strong with me.”
She had never felt united with anyone in her life. She was needed by her son, yes, as a caregiver, but Sandro made it sound as if he wanted her to be his partner.
Her eyes dampened, she was so touched.
“If you want,” she said faintly, nodding jerkily.
His breath hissed out and his mouth tilted in a relieved smile.
Such a beautiful mouth.
His smile faded and he crowded closer, leaning in—
“Oh! Excuse me! I’m so sorry,” Bree blurted as she strode in. She spun to retreat just as quickly.
“Stay,” Alessandro commanded, forestalling her closing the door, but keeping his arm around Octavia, allowing her to turn her blushing face into his chest. “Stay with the baby while I take Octavia down for lunch, please.”
A noise of consternation escaped Octavia before she could catch it back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, tension returning in an instant. She could practically hear his We just agreed.
She sighed. She hadn’t just been hiding from the family discord when he’d found her on the balcony.