Was there any hope of finding comfort now?
With everything crashing around inside him, it didn’t seem likely. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the support Carla had had in the aftermath of her experience. That kind of help hadn’t been made available to him at any point between his parents’ death and the moment he’d torn free from gang life. And when he’d been older and it could have become an option, he’d had that part of his life locked away so long he hadn’t known where the key even was.
But what if he had had access to help? was the thought now ricocheting around his head as he shoved open the heavy oak door and went in. What if he had been able to talk it through with someone who wouldn’t have judged but could have helped him make sense of it all? How differently might his life have turned out? Could he have had friends? Could he have had what Finn had? A wife, a child, a family?
And why the hell was he even thinking about it? His instruction to Carla to quit pushing Finn on him could just as easily have been directed at himself, because for some infuriating reason it was becoming harder to put him from his mind too. He didn’t want what Finn had. Regrets were pointless. Hindsight was something only fools indulged in. Envy, the kind that had sliced through him when Carla had been talking about how fortunate she’d been to have a friend like Georgie, served no purpose whatsoever.
And yet, it struck him suddenly, perhaps he did have the chance to talk about it now. With Carla. She was always encouraging him to reveal his secrets and pushing him for answers. What if he trusted her with his past and gave them to her?
No.
That was one reckless move even he couldn’t make. He couldn’t afford to make connections and allow emotions to invade his life. He didn’t want to ever suffer the pain of rejection and abandonment again, or experience the devastation when everything went wrong. The way he’d chosen to live his life, free from exploitation, free from fear, alone, was fine.
But what if it wasn’t? What if it could be better?
The insidious thoughts slunk into his head and dug in their claws, and his heart began to thump. What if Carla had had a point about no man being an island, even him? He was finding it impossibly difficult to maintain his facade with her, but maybe he ought to simply stop trying. Maybe he ought to let her see the dark, empty man beneath the easy-going surface. She’d been through it. She’d understand. She’d be the last person to judge. And then perhaps he’d be able to ease up on the constant drive for more and find some kind of peace.
All he had to do, he thought, nevertheless sweating at the mere concept of it, was take that risk.
* * *
By the time they’d finished dinner and everything had been cleared away Carla, staring out over the lagoon from the terrace upon which they’d eaten, was unable to stand the tension radiating off Rico any longer.
From the moment they’d left the city, she laden with bags, he carrying a ten-kilo box of groceries as if it weighed nothing, he’d been on edge and distant, as if somewhere else entirely, and it had twisted her stomach into knots.
What was behind it? she’d asked herself all evening, the knots tightening. It couldn’t be the amount she’d spent on clothes because she was paying him back, for everything. So was he concerned she was going to continue to try and persuade him to meet his brother again?
Well, he had nothing to fear on that front. She’d gone over it endlessly while trying on outfits, and it had struck her suddenly that she could be flogging a dead horse here, that he might never feel about Finn the way she wanted him to, and perhaps she ought to stop.
And while her heart broke for him, and for Georgie and Finn, if she was being brutally honest, it was none of her business. It was between Rico and Finn. Or not. But either way, however great the debt she owed Georgie, she had to let it go, because who was she to tell Rico what to think or what to do? Her family wasn’t exactly functional, and what made her an expert on relationships anyway?
She’d blithely told him that she was over what had happened to her, but she’d realised that was a lie. If she was truly over it she wouldn’t fear commitment. She wouldn’t fear getting swallowed up and losing her identity and her independence. By now she’d have had at least one proper relationship. She might even be married. So she was a big fat fraud and it was time to stop.
Taking a deep breath, Carla slid her gaze from the dark waters of the lagoon and turned to him.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly, her heart pounding when he met her gaze, his eyes and expression unfathomable.
‘What for?’
‘Well, firstly for getting my bag stolen and upturning your life this last week. I can tell how hard it’s been for you. And secondly, for trying to get you to see the whole Finn thing differently. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want to discuss it and I haven’t respected that. I’ve been overstepping. Hugely. With the best of intentions, but still. So I apologise.’
For a moment there was silence and then he gave her the faintest of smiles. ‘Don’t go giving up on me now, Carla.’
Something in his voice lifted the tiny hairs at the back of her neck and she went very still. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I was hoping to talk to you.’
‘What about?’
‘My youth.’
Her heart thudded against her ribs. ‘Why?’
‘You suggested therapy.’
‘I’m no psychologist.’
‘But you understand and I trust you and I’d like your insight. Please.’