The Unwanted Wife (Unwanted #1)(72)
“All those balloons.” Her voice faded, and the last thing she heard before dozing off was the sound of his indulgent chuckling.
Theresa woke up some time during the early hours of the morning when she felt Sandro leave the bed. She blinked in confusion, not sure how she’d gotten to bed. She was stark naked, and she didn’t remember getting undressed or even coming upstairs for that matter. She could hear Lily fretting through the baby monitor and was about to get out of bed when she heard Sandro’s gentle voice crooning to the baby. Lily calmed down a little, and Theresa smiled as she listened to him sing to the baby, his sleep-roughened voice slightly off-key. His voice faded and she sat up, switching on the bedside lamp and adjusting the pillows behind her back when she discerned that Sandro was probably bringing Lily into the bedroom for her feed. He appeared moments later, looking completely rumpled and wearing nothing but white boxer shorts. He smiled when he saw her sitting up in bed.
“Your daughter’s hungry.” He nodded down at the fussing baby, and Theresa reached up for her. He transferred the wriggling bundle gently before rounding the bed to climb in next to Theresa. He watched raptly as Theresa fed the baby.
“I don’t remember getting home,” Theresa whispered after a few minutes.
“Yeah, you were wiped out. I brought Lily upstairs and then went back down for you.”
“You carried me? Sandro, I weigh a ton…”
“Hardly,” he scoffed.
“Well, that explains why I’m totally naked.”
“I felt I deserved a reward after all that hard work.” He grinned wickedly, and she rolled her eyes.
“Sandro, I’m moving back into our bedroom tomorrow,” she told him quietly. He said nothing at first and instead reached over to toy with one of Lily’s closed fists. It was something she’d been thinking about since Lily’s birth. He spent every night in the spare bedroom with her anyway, so insisting on separate bedrooms was a bit of a moot point. The master bedroom was a lot more comfortable and closer to the nursery.
“That’s good,” he said, keeping his eyes on the suckling baby. “I’m happy to hear that, Theresa.”
An awkward silence descended, and Theresa wasn’t sure what had caused it. His response to her news had been lukewarm at best.
“You do want me to move back, right?” she asked after another long silence, and was surprised by the flash of fury she saw in his eyes when he looked up at her.
“Of course I want you to move back, Theresa. I also want you to trust me, to forgive me…to love me,” he seethed, sitting up abruptly and leaving the bed to pace the room like a menacing cat, all feral grace and power. Theresa watched him in helpless fascination.
“I don’t know what to say or do anymore, Theresa,” he said quietly, running agitated hands through his hair. “Then again it doesn’t seem to matter what I say or do…you’re determined to keep an emotional distance between us. Do you think I haven’t noticed? How much longer are you going to punish me for my stupidity?”
“I’m not trying to punish you.” She was appalled that he would think that. “I’m really not. I just…” she didn’t know what to say, because now that she thought about it, she wondered if she hadn’t been subconsciously punishing him after all.
“I have something for you,” he muttered. “It’s your birthday present. I was going to give it to you in the morning, but since you’re up…” He left the room abruptly and returned a couple of minutes later with a thick envelope in his hand. He reached over to take the sleeping baby from her and dropped the envelope into her lap. She stared at it uncertainly for a long time, while Sandro continued to pace with Lily cradled in his arms. Finally, hesitantly, she reached for it and turned it over in her hands. But the plain brown exterior of the A4-size envelope gave no clue as to its contents. She glanced up at Sandro, but he was now standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows, presumably staring out at the stormy predawn sky.
“It won’t bite you.” His deep voice startled her, and she realized that, because of the glow from the lamp, he could see her reflection in the window. She ran a finger under the flap of the envelope to open it and reached inside to extract a thick sheaf of legal-looking papers. Her stomach plummeted at first when she saw their names printed on the top sheet, and for a brief awful moment, she thought he was serving her divorce papers. Then she looked closer and frowned.
“Sandro…what did you do?” she whispered in shock. “You can’t do this.”
“I can…I have.” He shrugged, still watching her reflection in the glass. “It’s yours.”
He had given her the vineyard. His father’s vineyard.
“But it’s your father’s.”
“And when he died, it became mine. I suppose technically your father could snatch it back at any moment, but it’s a gesture, Theresa.”
“Why?” she asked helplessly.
“I didn’t want you to doubt my reasons for wanting to be with you. I didn’t want it hanging between us anymore.”
“But your mother and sisters…”
“They know about it, and for the most part approve of my decision. Not that it would have mattered if they didn’t. This isn’t about them; this is about us. It’s about fixing what I broke.” He turned around to face her and stalked back to the bed. “The vineyard is yours, Theresa, and if you don’t want it, you can burn it to the ground or transfer the deed to Lily. You can hand it back to your father on a platter. It doesn’t matter to me. The only thing that matters to me is you. You’re the sun I revolve around, and without you…” He shook his head as his voice broke.