‘Aurelio?’
He blinked and saw Amber frowning, waiting for him to continue.
‘I flew in late in the evening.’ Aurelio drew a sharp breath, the metallic taste of despair filling his mouth.
‘I was going to arrange transport home but Valentina wanted to collect me herself.’ He looked down at his hands, clasped before him, feeling that familiar weight of guilt pressing down on his shoulders and crushing his lungs.
That last phone call had been…stiff. He’d apologised and she’d accepted, both stilted and wary. He’d heard how tired she was and said he’d make his own way from the airport. Valentina had been hurt, actually thinking he wasn’t eager to see her after their long distance quarrel. So he’d capitulated, even though he knew she didn’t like night driving.
‘What happened?’ Amber’s voice was soft, breaking through the memories.
He jerked his head up. ‘I waited and waited. I rang her phone. Nothing. Then, hours later, I got a call. There’d been an accident on the autostrada, a three car pile-up. Valentina in her little car had been in the middle. She hadn’t a chance of surviving.’
Even now he could recall every word of that phone call. He remembered the sour scent of airport coffee left to go cold. His complete disbelief as he grappled to take in the news the woman he loved was gone forever.
‘I’m so sorry, Aurelio.’
He nodded, losing himself in the sympathy he read in Amber’s silvery eyes.
His throat was tight, his heart pounding. But for once it wasn’t just from the memories. Even worse than that old loss was the here and now, reading the defeat in Amber’s face and the slump of her shoulders. Bright, beautiful Amber, who usually glowed with life and deserved only good things, looked ashen.
His fault. It was all his fault. Because he’d dared to break his rule and get involved, choosing to ignore his own limitations. Now Amber paid the price for his selfishness.
‘I’m sorry too, Amber.’ He took a slow breath, making himself stop rather than blurt out how much he cared for her. That didn’t, couldn’t matter in the long run. Pain radiated from his jaw as he ground his molars.
‘I lost a part of myself when Valentina died. I didn’t think I’d survive.’
‘So you devoted yourself to work.’ Amber leaned towards him, obviously trying to understand. ‘That’s why you’ve got a reputation as a recluse, only coming out of the winery when you have to.’ She tilted her head in that endearing way and Aurelio clenched his hands into fists to stop himself reaching for her. Even now she made him wish…
‘But you did survive, Aurelio.’
He blinked, watching as Amber sat back in her seat, her expression unreadable.
‘Grief is a terrible thing, but you survived it.’
Aurelio frowned. ‘But Valentina didn’t. I let her down, delaying and delaying and…’ He shook his head.
*
Amber stared at those bold features, etched now with suffering.
‘Do you mean you blame yourself for her death?’ When he said nothing she plunged on, the idea of Aurelio blaming himself when he clearly wasn’t at fault was too appalling. She hated seeing his obvious grief.
‘You weren’t driving, Aurelio. It was an accident. You weren’t at fault.’
He shrugged and spread his hands. ‘I let her down. I should have agreed to marry and start a family earlier. She never lived her dream. Don’t you see? Because of me she never had that chance.’
What Amber saw was a man whose guilt was skewed out of proportion. She bit her lip. Saying that wouldn’t help.
‘I knew then I’d never love again. There’d never be anyone like Valentina for me. Besides,’ his gaze seemed to sharpen on her, ‘I wouldn’t trust myself not to let them down. I just can’t do love again.’
A great wave of emotion smashed into Amber, submerging her in a jumble of feelings, pummelling her and leaving her breathless. It reminded her of her first visit to the beach when she was six. She’d been caught by a rogue wave, a dumper that jerked her feet out beneath her then rolled and rolled her right into the shallows till her lungs almost burst and her skin stung from sand abrasion.
Amber blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
It was tough hearing Aurelio say he’d never love again because there’d never be anyone as special for him. She wanted to cry out thatshewas special. But what good would it do? You can’t force someone to care.
But just as dreadful was his declaration that he didn’t trust himself to love again in case he let his loved one down. Her heart ached for him, the man she’d tried to reach yet couldn’t. And for their unborn child, doomed to miss out on a father’s love.