The Unwanted Wife (Unwanted #1)(32)
“Unfortunately the bank ran into some financial straits after my grandfather died and my father exacerbated the situation by making some terrible financial decisions. The vineyard was one of many unavoidable casualties while my father tried to recoup his losses. He soon found his footing and got stinking rich, but by then the vineyard had been purchased by your father, who quite stubbornly, despite anything my father offered him, refused to sell. There’s some bad history between them. Apparently they met at Oxford and formed their ridiculous business rivalry there. So while the vineyard was pretty worthless to a man as wealthy as your father, I can only conclude that he enjoyed having that kind of leverage over my father.” He shrugged helplessly.
“All of my life I remember my father waxing lyrical about that place. He always regretted the fact that none of his children had been born on that land and the guilt of losing a huge chunk of family history ate at him. Over the last few years, his quest to get it back became an obsession. In the meantime, his health started to deteriorate badly. He was diagnosed with cancer three years ago, and the doctors weren’t optimistic. Medical science has managed to keep him with us this long, but it’s an uphill battle. Naturally his impending death made the loss of that land even more unbearable for him, and it was killing us to watch him suffer emotionally, physically, and mentally. I wanted to give him his pride and dignity back. I wanted him to find peace and die happy. So I approached your father, who, having seen your reaction to me after our first meeting, finally relented and came up with the terms of sale as you now know them.” Theresa flushed miserably when she remembered how obviously infatuated she had been the first time she had seen Sandro and recognized her own, unwitting role in this fa?ade.
“How’s your father?” she asked tightly, and he nodded slightly, his face betraying the first hint of emotion since he had started telling the sorry tale.
“Content, now that he’s home.” His voice was absolutely racked with the pain he was trying so desperately to disguise.
“And your family knows about this ‘deal’ you made for the land?” she asked, her own voice high with tension.
“Yes.”
“No wonder they never expressed any desire to meet me, or made any overtures of friendship toward me,” she said, half to herself, and he made a muffled sound and moved a hand toward her face. She flinched away from his reach, and his hand dropped down into the no-man’s land between them.
“I’m sorry about your father,” she said tonelessly. “I see now how impossible your situation must have been.”
“Even so, I could have treated you less…” he began, his voice bitter with something very close to self-loathing.
“Never mind,” she cut him off, not really in the mood to hear his moans of regret and self-recrimination. “Thank you for telling me.” She got up slowly, always mindful of the dizziness, and he jumped up along with her.
“Theresa, wait…please…” he began.
“I don’t think there’s much more to say.” She turned toward the door.
“What about us? Our marriage?”
“I suppose we go on as we always have.” She shrugged listlessly. “Only, without the intimacy, Sandro. I really couldn’t handle that anymore. We lead separate lives.”
“I don’t want that,” he said hoarsely, sounding almost horrified by the prospect.
“It won’t have to be for too much longer,” she murmured faintly, wondering why the door seemed to be getting farther away with every faltering step.
“What do you mean?” he asked in alarm. “Theresa?” This last when she swayed slightly. He put a steadying arm around her narrow shoulders and led her back to the chair she had just vacated.
“That’s it,” he snapped, crouching in front of her while his hands went up to frame her pale face. “I’m calling the doctor! This is—”
“I’m pregnant,” she cut across his words in an appallingly weak voice. But quiet and shaky though her statement was, it was enough to stop him in his tracks. He went pale and sank back onto his heels as he absorbed the words.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, one trembling hand reaching up to brush her soft hair from her face.
“I just took four home pregnancy tests in the space of two hours,” she confessed. “End result: three pink strips and one blue, all telling me that I’m going to be a mommy in a few months’ time. I could take the remaining two tests that I have stashed away upstairs, but I couldn’t force myself to drink any more water,” she joked weakly. He didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes glued to her face.
“So you see, Sandro? You’re just a few short months away from getting rid of your unwanted wife, child, and life. No more need for pretense, no need to humor your sham-wife with Friday night football games or introductions to your friends.” Her voice trembled with the effort it took to sound casual, while Sandro looked anything but fooled by her attempt to appear cavalier. His hands went to the arms of her chair and he seemed to be holding on for dear life, not touching her at all but still uncomfortably close.
“You still need to see a doctor,” he said softly, sounding strained, and she nodded.
“I’ve already made an appointment with Lisa’s doctor.” He sighed softly before agilely getting up and moving away from her chair and back to his own.