How had she not known what he was like? Why had she allowed herself to get hurt like this?
Anger swept through him. Together with the recognition that everything she was going through represented every reason why he would never marry, never give his heart and trust to another person. People always let you down, ultimately.
He had trusted, loved, hero-worshipped Francesco, Marco, Simone, Arnaud, Stefano... All his mother’s boyfriends. And they had all walked away from him. Showing just how little significance he’d held in their lives. Blood, family—that was all you could trust in. Nobody else.
‘Why were you marrying him?’
She jammed her left heel against the bottom of the bridge rail and rotated her foot. ‘You mean why didn’t I realise what he was really like? I met him last summer. It was a whirlwind romance. We got engaged after four months. He was charming and outgoing. He seemed to care for me a lot. He worked crazy hours and sometimes he didn’t turn up for dates... He always had a plausible excuse and I’d eventually forgive him. When we were together he was kind, if a little distracted...but I never saw the other side to him—the lying, the fraud.’
‘Four months isn’t a long time to get to know one another.’
Behind them a group of tourists walked by, their guide speaking loudly. Suddenly they all laughed in unison. The guide looked pleased with his joke.
Emma looked at them, taken aback. The tips of her ears were pink from the cold. For a moment he considered giving her his hat. Why did he keep forgetting she was his employee? Was it because they had already lain together in a bed? Even if it had been only for a few crazy minutes of misunderstanding?
She went to speak, but stopped. Her mouth quivered and she looked at him uncertainly. Her chest rose on a deep inhalation. ‘I wanted a family of my own...to belong.’
She spoke with such loneliness.
He stamped his feet on the ground. The cold was already stiffening his back. ‘Did you love him?’
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