Alex knew then that he wanted to be that person to Sophie. The one person who could take away any evil, or at least endure it by her side.
“What about the family you work with? Can I call them for you?”
“Oh, goodness. Yes.” She shook her head. “I mean, no. But I’ll need to notify them. Please just get my phone.”
He nodded, and pulled it from her bag. Even the sight of it, with its bright pink case, made his stomach twist with memory. He listened as she spoke, so eloquently and calmly, and yet perfectly vaguely, explaining that she couldn’t work for a time.
She disconnected the call but kept the phone clasped in her lap.
“Are you going to call your sisters?” He prompted, reclining with assumed indolence against the wall.
Sophie stared at the phone and shook her head. She wanted to hear their voices more than anything in the world, but she knew that one word from Ava and she’d burst into tears. It would be the same with Liv. They would know something bad had happened, and they would worry themselves sick.
She lifted bleak eyes to his face. “You can go, Alex. I’d rather be alone.”
“Are you going to slap me again?” He said mockingly, lifting his hand to his cheek.
She might have smiled, in a past life. She didn’t now.
Her lips quivered as she flipped her head on the pillow and eyed him warily. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. He didn’t say anything, and after a moment, Sophie gave up fighting. She closed her eyes and gave into the tears.
A baby. Their baby. How had she not known? Why hadn’t she realised?
And why had she lost it?
When Alex put a hand on her head and stroked it softly, she didn’t move away. She allowed herself to take comfort from the contact, and to relish the touch.
Though she would have sworn she wasn’t tired, Sophie was asleep within minutes. The next thing she knew, it was somewhere in the middle of the night. The room was mostly darkened, but for the faint electric glow cast by the hospital’s instruments. The sleeping shape of Alex was visible hunched in one of the upright chairs. She looked at him and hardened her heart.
He was there because he felt guilty. A burden of responsibility, like he felt with Helena. That wasn’t the same thing as love. Wanting to fix someone and take over their life didn’t equate to caring.
She tried to rearrange herself, to find a more comfortable position, but she was too uncomfortable, and so she flopped back as she’d been.
When the morning light broke through the window, Alex was awake, and looking far more like his normal self. Despite the fact he still wore the previous day’s clothes, he was fresh and vibrant and heart-stoppingly, unfairly beautiful.
“Good morning,” he spoke quietly, as though he feared she might yell at him. Except Alex wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all her.
Sophie smiled at him out of habit, and then immediately regretted it.
“How do you feel?”
Empty. Alone. Cold. “I’m fine.”
He held a plastic beaker of water out to her; Sophie took it and drank gratefully.
“The doctor will be in soon. Would you like breakfast? Coffee?”
Sophie shook her head.
“Tea?”
Her eyes lifted to his and she nodded. “Thanks.”
He left th
e room and her sense of aloneness intensified. When first she’d moved to London, she had thought it the most beautiful place on earth. She had immediately known she wouldn’t ever think of Casa Celli as home again. But now, after the last few months, Sophie craved the peace and solitude of the vineyards to lick her wounds and recover. She needed the company of her sisters and the familiarity of her youth.