The Unwanted Wife Part 13

"Terri they're saying that Sandro was blackmailed into marrying you. That he did so for his father. They're also saying that a source close to the family claims that since Sandro has no reason to be with you anymore he'll be filing for a divorce as soon as he gets back."

"I never thought of that," Theresa half-whispered to herself. "Of course he's free now. That's probably why I never heard from him, he's been busy planning this... I should have realised that he would want that. I should have seen this coming."

"Theresa, don't you dare beat yourself up about it. If the divorce rumours are true then he's a b.a.s.t.a.r.d for abandoning his pregnant wife when she needs him most," Rick fumed.

"No, I'm happy for him. He was trapped..." she was so dazed, she barely realised what she was saying and Rick swore in disbelief.

"My G.o.d, it's like you have battered wife syndrome. Stop making excuses for him, he's an a.s.s who hurt you time and again." When it looked like she was about to protest, Lisa stepped forward.

"Come on, darling, let's get you packed up and out of here," her cousin took charge, grabbing hold of Theresa's arm and jerking her out of her stupor. Lisa steered her out of the room, tossing a warning look over her shoulder when it looked like Rick wanted to say something more.

After getting settled at Rick and Lisa's, Theresa decided to give the couple, who were walking on eggsh.e.l.ls around her, a break from her presence by taking a nap. She was just slipping into a troubled doze when she heard the unmistakable voice of her husband coming from a distance. She frowned and sat upright, pus.h.i.+ng her tangled hair out of her face. She tilted her head, not sure if her imagination was playing tricks on her, until she heard it again. It was Sandro, without a doubt, and he sounded agitated.

She got out of bed with some difficulty before padding to the door on bare feet and opening it slightly. This time she could clearly make out his voice.

"I had nothing to do with that story," he was protesting. "And I'll be d.a.m.ned if you keep me away from my family like this."

"She doesn't want to see you, Sandro," Rick informed with obvious relish and there was a moment's charged silence.

"Maybe not," Sandro finally conceded quietly. "But that's because she doesn't know everything. I just need to explain things to her. I need to talk with her..."

"Explain what? How you've been cheating on her with that woman since nearly the day of your wedding? How you've spent every available moment with her since you returned to Italy for the funeral, while your heavily pregnant wife waited in vain for you to call her every day?"

"I haven't cheated on her," Sandro growled after a moment's silence. "Not in deed and not in thought. Not once. She knows that."

"All she knows is that her husband left nearly two weeks ago, supposedly to attend his father's funeral but then hooked up with his mistress and started divorce proceedings once he realised that nothing was tying him to his wife anymore."

"There's a h.e.l.l of a lot tying me to my wife, Palmer," Sandro gritted. "Our baby for one."

"Oh please, we know how little you actually want that baby, De Lucci."

"I want him," Sandro said quietly, so quietly she nearly missed it. "I want them both..."

"Stop it," Theresa could stand it no more, she waddled into the living room where Rick and Lisa stood on one side of the room and Sandro on the other. The atmosphere was so charged that Theresa was sure her hair was standing on end. Sandro's face tightened at the sight of her.

"Theresa," he whispered. "This was not meant for you to hear."

"It doesn't matter," she shrugged listlessly. "I'm tired... I'm so tired of all this, Sandro."

"I know, cara but it will get better. I promise you that."

"I don't see how it can..." she shook her head bitterly and he groaned, closing the distance between them in four strides, before gathering her into his arms and hugging her tenderly.

"It can. It will. I didn't file for a divorce, Theresa. I have no reason to divorce you..."

"Sandro please just... shut up!" She interrupted furiously, pus.h.i.+ng him away forcefully and his face went ruddy but his mouth slammed shut. "If you won't divorce me then I'll be the one divorcing you. I don't want a husband who feels obligated to be with me. You have no reason to stay with me anymore. I can take care of myself and I can take care of this baby. I don't need you or your guilt anymore. You're free to leave. In fact, I want you to go." He said nothing, merely stared down at her, with one hand squeezing the nape of his neck. His face was inscrutable, his eyes dark with an emotion that she could not read. He looked stunned, incapable of movement and Theresa realised that he needed a harder push.

"For G.o.d's sake, go back to the woman you love! Go back to Francesca." She turned away from him, dismissing him contemptuously but froze when he swore shakily.

"G.o.d, you are the most contrary little b.i.t.c.h!" He hissed. "I don't love Francesca. I don't think I've ever loved her. Maybe when I married you, for about five seconds, I believed that I did. But I was disabused of that notion pretty d.a.m.ned early on in our marriage. I don't love her... and I have no idea why the h.e.l.l you're so fixated on her." She turned on him furiously, ignoring Rick and Lisa who were watching the exchange in morbid fascination.

"Maybe I'm fixated on her because every time you go to Italy, the papers and Internet are full of pictures of you two attending the same functions, touching, kissing, dancing or hugging! Don't you dare insult my intelligence by saying that it meant nothing. I believe you when you say that you've never slept other women while we were married. But I'm willing to bet you came pretty close with her. I mean, how the h.e.l.l could she be the other woman? I was the other woman. Your entire family knew it, my father knew it... I know it."

"We're in the same social circle, Theresa. She was always at the same functions as I am. She's an old friend, naturally I hugged her or touched her occasion. Yes I danced with her, dropped a few casual kisses on her cheek or mouth... it meant nothing. I treated her as I would one of my sisters. I don't desire her, I don't love her and I don't want her! Those are feelings reserved for you... only for you," his voice deepened and his face softened at the admission, his eyes were gentle as he registered the confusion on her face. Was he saying he loved her? And if he was... did she believe him? She wasn't sure of the answer to either question and a second later she didn't really care when she suddenly doubled over in pain.

Sandro, Rick and Lisa all surged forward in concern but her husband got to her first, he had an arm around her thickened waist before she could blink.

"What's wrong?" He demanded hoa.r.s.ely. Theresa grabbed his free hand in both of hers and squeezed it urgently as her entire body quivered in excruciating pain. After an eternal moment, the pain lessened and faded and she pushed her way upright, meeting Sandro's frantic gaze with a panicky one of her own.

"It's the baby..." she whispered in fear. "I think the baby's coming..."

"No, no, no," the naked panic and fear in his eyes did nothing to alleviate Theresa's own terror. "He can't be coming now. He's nearly a month early! Are you sure?"

"I've been cramping all day but I thought it was due to stress," Theresa moaned after the pain had subsided. "But now I think I'm having contractions."

"Okay, it's okay," he soothed, automatically gathering her trembling body into a hug. "We'll be fine. We have to get you to the hospital."

Theresa had argued, begged, cajoled, attempted to reason but Sandro had refused point blank to defer his position as her coach to Lisa. In the end, Lisa had simply declined to go in to hospital with her, saying that it was best for Theresa to have her original coaching partner with her. Shocked and hurt by what she felt was an unforgivable betrayal, Theresa had refused to look, or even talk, to her cousin while Sandro shepherded her out to his car. Lisa had seemed to be cheerfully and deliberately oblivious to Theresa's pointed and rather childish, silent treatment, promising that she and Rick would be at the hospital soon.

"She did what she thought was best, cara," Sandro tried to placate en-route to the hospital. She simply turned her head and stared out at the pa.s.sing scenery, scared and angry and not really in the mood to be comforted by him. "She knew that I would have insisted and we'd have just wasted time arguing futilely about it."

"I wanted somebody I trusted in there with me," she suddenly said, keeping her eyes glued on the road ahead. He didn't respond to that but from the corner of her eye she saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel and knew that she'd scored a direct hit. The rest of the journey went by quickly and before she knew it she was being admitted into the elite private maternity clinic that Sandro had arranged for months ago. She'd had only one contraction en-route but it had nearly sent Sandro off the road in a panic.

Still it was hours before anything more interesting than that happened. The doctor confirmed that she was indeed in labour but rea.s.sured them that it was perfectly normal for women to go into labour a few weeks early. They were taking extra precautions because of her health issues during the pregnancy but for someone whose pregnancy had been fraught with drama, Theresa's labour was pretty boring aside from the intense periods of pain. Her obstetrician monitored her condition carefully and weathered Sandro's demanding, panicked questions with admirable calm. Her contractions seemed to leave Sandro more wrung out than they did her and he wasn't dealing with it very well.

About five hours after her admission Theresa found herself glaring up at her hovering husband in frustration.

"For G.o.d's sake, go and get yourself some coffee or something, you're driving me up the wall!"

"I won't leave you. What if you have another contraction? What if your water breaks and they rush you into the delivery room? What if there are complications?" He asked hoa.r.s.ely, his eyes dilating more with each anxious question. And Theresa rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"I doubt any of those things will happen in the two minutes it would take you to leave the room and get a cup of coffee, Sandro," she sighed impatiently.

"They could," he insisted stubbornly.

"Unlikely." He didn't respond, merely continued to sit by her bedside. They were both silent for a few minutes.

"Why are you here?" Theresa suddenly asked tiredly.

"Because this is where I want to be," he responded promptly and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Why do you want to be here?" She persisted.

"You're my wife, cara. You're having my baby," he reached out and covered one of her hands with his. "I belong here."

"You don't belong here," she whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

"I do."

"You have another life, a family that wants you to come home, a woman you love and who loves you. You don't have to be here, Sandro," she shook her head tiredly, tears seeping from beneath her eyelids.

"I have this life, with you. It's the only one that matters to me," he insisted. "I have a wife who loved me once, and who maybe... someday, would dare to love and trust me again? I don't have to be here... but I want to be here."

"Too many things have happened between us. More than two years of pain," she whispered rawly and his hand contracted around hers. "I can't go back to being the naive girl who loved you with all her heart."

"But maybe... the woman who replaced the girl could find a way to love the flawed man she'd once placed on a pedestal he had no business being on?"

"You've hurt me so many times," she confessed. Opening her eyes and meeting his gaze full on. He flinched slightly beneath the accusatory glare.

"I know."

"In so many ways."

"I know."

"Why should I forgive you and love you again? Why should I open up my heart to a man who would probably crush it in the palms of his hands?"

"You probably shouldn't," he smiled bitterly. "But I wish you would."

"I can't," she whispered, tears drenching her pale cheeks and he nodded slightly, reaching out to wipe at the tears.

"I know," he finally said again, before lapsing into silence.

Her water finally broke four hours later and she was moved to the delivery room. She and Sandro hadn't exchanged any further meaningful conversation, he'd just continued to soothe her and coach her through the ever-increasing pain. She didn't ever say it but she was pretty grateful to have him there. Even though he was as nervous and edgy as a cat in a barrel between contractions, he was a solid rock during them.

Four intensely nerve-wracking, sweaty and pain-riddled hours later, during which time Sandro supported her, swore at her doctors, threatened the nurses and seemed to come close to breaking down into tears on several occasions, Theresa finally gave one last painful push. There was a rush of activity at the foot of the bed as Theresa felt an overwhelming flood of relief. Sandro's eyes remained glued to her face, bright and feverish above the surgical mask they had forced him to wear. He dragged down the mask and leaned down toward her, until his mouth was so close to her ear she could feel his hot and moist breath fanning over her overheated skin.

"You're amazing, cara mia. So incredible..." she jerked her head away from his mouth and turned her face to stare at him in bewilderment, rocked by the emotion she heard in his voice. But his attention was now on the doctor and the squalling, naked and tiny bundle the man held cradled in his gentle and capable hands.

"Here's the little lady who's been causing all that fuss and bother," the man was saying jovially. "Congratulations Mr and Mrs De Lucci you have a beautiful and perfectly healthy baby girl."

Theresa's breath hitched in her chest at the man's words and her eyes remained glued to Sandro's face. But instead of the rapidly concealed disappointment she would have expected to see, she witnessed something she would never have believed if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes... she watched her husband fall hopelessly and helplessly head over heels in love with the outraged bundle of femininity the doctor placed onto Theresa's chest.

Theresa was overwhelmed as she stared down at the tiny, wailing infant her chest and not entirely sure what to do with this baby girl who should have been a boy.

"She's beautiful," the smitten Sandro crooned, dropping a large hand to the baby's tiny head and stroking the soft skin and tufts of still-wet hair, gently. "She's so very beautiful, Theresa."

"Yes," she muttered automatically. "I suppose she is." He frowned down at her, puzzled by her response or lack thereof.

"Theresa... what's wrong?"

"Your wife is exhausted Mr De Lucci," the doctor said brusquely. "Give her time to recover and I'm sure she'll be fawning all over this little beauty in no time at all."

"Yes. I'm tired," Theresa said remotely and Sandro's brow furrowed. He watched as Theresa absently stroked the baby's down-soft back, without once looking down at the infant and knew that something was terribly wrong.

Chapter Eleven.

"She's gorgeous, Terri," Lisa gushed and Theresa smiled tiredly, nodding her appreciation of the comment. Lisa seemed not to notice her lack of enthusiasm, or if she did, probably dismissed it as exhaustion. Rick had been in earlier but was at work at the moment. Sandro, was leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his broad chest and legs crossed at the ankles. He said nothing but Theresa was aware of him watching her every move with brooding intensity.

It was just over a day since the baby had been born and Sandro had gone home only to shower and change and to bring her a change of clothes too. He'd also packed a bag for the baby, filling it with the tiny little pink and white things he'd bought months ago while Theresa had been industriously buying toys and clothes for a baby boy.

"Have you thought of names yet?" Lisa was asking and Theresa winced slightly at the memory of a conversation she'd once had with Sandro. He must've have remembered too because he made a caustic sound.

"Last time we talked about it," he spoke for the first time since Lisa had arrived ten minutes before. "She had her heart set on Kieran, Liam, Ethan or Alexander." Lisa frowned at that.

"Only boys' names?" She asked in confusion.

"You forget, your cousin was obsessed with having a son," he taunted. "What a pity for her that she failed so dismally at achieving her goal." Theresa's soft mouth quivered at the slight and his eyes darkened at the sight but he kept pressing. "She's so torn up by this inability of hers to do anything right, that she hasn't even bothered to look at our daughter. Or hold her. Or even attempt to feed her. Why ha.s.sle with a mere girl child when it won't get her out of her miserable marriage with me? When it won't win her the affection of her thrice-d.a.m.ned father?"

"Theresa?" Lisa prompted gently, watching as tears spilled onto Theresa's pale cheeks. Sandro cursed rawly, before levering himself from the wall and sitting down on the bed to wrap her in his strong arms.

"Don't cry," he whispered. "I'm a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Just don't cry."

"You're not a b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she sobbed. "You're right. I can't look at her. I can't hold her. I hate myself for being this way but she's not what I was expecting. I wanted to make this all right. I wanted to have that son and release you from your obligation to me. I wanted to finally do something right in my father's eyes... everything would have been perfect."

"Do you hate our baby?" He asked painfully, keeping his face buried in her hair.

"Of course not... I love her so much it hurts. But I feel like such a failure..."

"Oh G.o.d, sweetheart, just let all it go," he groaned. "Let yourself love her. Allow yourself to be happy."

"But what about you? I promised you..."

"For G.o.d's sake just stop it," he shook her slightly. "I told you before, I don't want out of this marriage. And if you give me nothing but daughters for the next twenty years, I would consider myself blessed."

She made a m.u.f.fled sound as she buried her face in his neck and wept. She so desperately wanted to believe him. He rocked her soothingly and after a long while, he released her and gently lowered her until her head rested on the pillow.

"Why don't you rest, cara and when you wake up, I think it's time you met your daughter and gave her a proper welcome into this world." Theresa stared up into his dark, handsome face, barely noticing when her cousin got up and left, squeezing Sandro's taut shoulder on her way out. Her vision started to blur after a while and she fell asleep still trustingly clutching one of her husband's large, capable hands in both of hers.

She awoke to the sound of angry, hushed voices and blinked groggily as she tried to get her bearings.

"I don't want you anywhere near her," she heard Sandro hiss furiously and tried to concentrate on the drama unfolding in her doorway where she could see two large men silhouetted. One was unmistakably Sandro and the other; she narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to focus a bit better. It looked like her father.

"She's my daughter and I'll d.a.m.ned well see her when I want to," the other man bl.u.s.tered, confirming that he was, indeed, Jackson n.o.ble III.

"So that you can damage her more than you already have?" Sandro asked, almost shaking with rage. "I won't let you get close enough to hurt her like that again. And you can forget about getting that grandson you want anytime soon. I refuse to give you the pleasure."

"Well then stay married to her until you do, or give up the vineyard," her father sneered.

"The vineyard never meant as much to me as it did my father. You can have the d.a.m.ned place back. I want your grasping paws out of my business and the taint of your presence away from my marriage. You won't be getting your hooks into Theresa again and you most certainly will not be any kind of presence in our children's lives."

"Sandro..." Theresa sat up slightly. "It's okay. I want to speak with him."