We had a son.
I tried to cling on to that as I nodded and closed off the aching pain in the pit of my stomach.
The sting of the tears I was holding back felt like acid burning my eyeballs. I blinked rapidly and nodded again, forcing what I hoped was an approximation of a smile to my face.
Don’t let him see you break. Pride is all you have now.
Thank God I had never told him the truth about my so-called other lovers or I would have been even more reduced now, even more vulnerable.
‘Okay,’ I said in a brittle voice which I could not let break. ‘Well, let me know when you next want custody of Cai. We should probably arrange proper visitation rights.’
‘I’ll get Etienne on it,’ he said, his gaze searing into my soul. But I forced the hurt down, desperate to keep it hidden just a little longer. ‘I’ll give you both a call when I get back from London to make arrangements.’ He nudged a shoulder towards the stairs. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
‘Okay,’ I whispered again. But he had already walked past me.
It seemed to take no more than a second for his footsteps to pad down the hallway and for the front door to slam shut.
It took longer than an eternity, though, for me to control the painful sobs that consumed me once I had watched his brake lights disappear around the bend in the coast road from the balcony of the room we had once shared.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
One month later
Alexi
CAI GIGGLED DELIGHTEDLY as we were both sprayed with champagne by Team Galanti’s drivers—Rene Galoise and Ludovic Seveny—who had just taken the top two positions at the Italian Primo Grande Race. Cai bounced in my arms, adoring the attention—and the chance to join me next to the winners’ podium after the race—as Rene and Ludovic high-fived him. I should be celebrating too, but I couldn’t help searching the crowd for his mother.
Where the hell was she? It was her job to be here. I could have her fired if she didn’t show.
I had insisted all my R&D staff attend the race today and the celebration event afterwards in Milan. But I had known, as soon as I’d had Pierre send out the emails a week ago, there was only one person I really wanted to see here.
Belle.
‘Daddy, Daddy, can I go to the party tonight?’ Cai placed his hands on my cheeks to turn my gaze back to him. ‘Rene said I could.’
‘I am afraid not,’ I said. ‘You will have to stay at the hotel tonight with Carly,’ I added, naming the nanny I had employed for when I had care of him. Cai usually adored spending time with her in the evenings, on the rare occasions when I had to attend events without him, but even so his bottom lip quivered.
‘But, Daddy, I want to,’ he said.
I steeled myself against the adorable pout, which I had discovered in the last month my son was a master of applying, and the tantrum I had no doubt was coming. Cai had been at the track all day with me, eating junk food and getting everything he desired, because I was always tempted to spoil him when he was with me. But there was usually a price to pay for that.
Tonight, though, was an adults-only affair. An adult affair that his mother was supposed to be attending. His mother whom I had not seen for over a month. Not since the night I had walked away from her.
Ever since I had returned from London, she had endeavoured never to be at the villa in Nice when I came to pick up Cai or drop him off. And at work I had made a point of avoiding her.
I hadn’t lied completely about not wanting to complicate our working relationship. But that was going to stop. Tonight.
Because I missed her—much more than I had thought possible. Not just her passion, her hot, responsive body and the time we spent together with Cai—she certainly was much more skilled at dealing with that pout than I was—but also her smile, her wit, her tenderness, her intelligence and that captivating sparkle in her eyes whenever she’d been testing out her flirtation skills on me. I even missed her blushes, those vibrant flashes of red that made her freckles light up her face.
I wanted her back in my bed again. In my life. But I’d had to steal myself against approaching her at work. I didn’t want to step over that line, compromise her, myself or the incredible job she was doing on the new prototype, according to my R&D manager, Ben Allison. But I had been forced to break even that embargo a week ago when I had composed that email.
I had ended our affair too soon. I wasn’t over her yet, not completely. I’d allowed my fear to drive my actions, which was pathetic and beneath me. Why should we not continue our affair in private while co-parenting our son? How else was I going to get rid of this grinding sense of loss whenever I thought about her, which was far too often?
But despite that I did not want to make the first move. I had made a decision to get her to attend the race, assuming she would come to find her son—and me—as soon as she arrived. But I hadn’t seen her at all.
Agitated and frustrated, I tapped out a text to Pierre on my phone.
Did Belle Simpson get on the Galanti jet with the rest of the R&D staff, this morning?