Lindsay lay in the depths of misery, drowning in self-blame.
This was all her fault. She could see that now.
If she’d been more approachable and less judgmental, Ruby would have felt able to confide in her—she would have called.
How could she have been so horribly wrong? She spent her working life helping couples see that there were always two points of view, and yet had she ever listened to what Ruby wanted? No, she hadn’t. She’d been so afraid that Ruby would choose the wrong path in life that every time her sister had opened her mouth, she’d lectured and dictated. Don’t do this—don’t do that.
And who was to say that Ruby’s choices would have been the wrong ones?
Alessio was right. The wrong path for one person was the right path for another.
Ridden with guilt, Lindsay squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She loved her sister so much. So much. And had she helped her? No.
She was a stupid idiot.
The thought of how badly she’d handled everything was like a physical pain.
She’d been so convinced that her approach was the right one. After what she’d seen as a child, she’d been determined not to follow the same route. And determined not to let her sister follow the same route. But she’d attached such a strong belief to her own strict code that it had prevented her from understanding how others felt. Since when had she become so pompous and set in her ways that she’d decided there was only one right way to do things?
Perhaps Ruby was, at this moment, having the time of her life with Dino Capelli.
Perhaps she wanted to share that happiness and excitement, and the reason she wasn’t calling Ruby was because she knew she wouldn’t approve.
Would Ruby ever turn to her again?
Tears slid down her face and this time she didn’t bother trying to stop them because it was dark and Alessio was asleep.
Convinced that she was alone with her misery, she gave a start of shock as a strong male hand curved over her shoulder.
‘Stop crying.’
Appalled that he knew she was crying, Lindsay froze. ‘I’m not crying.’
He muttered something in Italian. ‘I tell you now,’ he said roughly, ‘I have absolutely no experience in comforting women. It isn’t something I excel at. Ask anyone.’ He hesitated. ‘Normally I’m the one making them cry.’
Lindsey gave a choked laugh. ‘I can believe that. But for once you’re not to blame. Everything you said is right. I might even get round to thanking you at some point. And you don’t need to worry—I don’t want comfort.’ She sniffed and scrubbed a hand over her face, relieved that it was dark. ‘Anyway, I thought you had to be the best at everything.’
‘Only the things that interest me. Strangely enough I have no ambitions to excel at drying women’s tears,’ he drawled softly, ‘but on this one occasion, given that I’m the cause of your upset, I’m prepared to make an exception.’
Realising just how great a sacrifice that was on his part, she almost managed to smile. This must be almost as bad for him as it was for her. ‘You’re not the cause. Go to sleep, Alessio.’
But his strong, warm hand didn’t move from her shoulder. ‘This rug is the only dry thing in the place and I’d like to keep it that way. Stop feeling guilty about your sister.’
‘Why?’ She mumbled the words, wondering why she was discussing it with him. Alessio Capelli wasn’t anyone’s idea of a perfect confidant. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘It isn’t your fault. I keep telling you, Ruby is responsible for what she does.’
‘I’ve stopped her talking to me.’
‘And what if she had talked to you? You would have been given a running commentary on all her wild behaviour and it would have driven you crazy with stress. You wouldn’t have said anything, but you still would have felt it. You’re much better off not knowing.’ His tone rang with exasperation and she almost laughed.
‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘It is easy. It’s time to toughen up, Lindsay,’ he said gruffly. ‘How have you managed to get through the past two decades when you worry so much about everything?’
‘I don’t really worry—’
‘You’re avoiding life because you’re afraid of it.’