These Tangled Vines(79)

Suddenly unable to go on, Lillian sobbed with grief onto Anton’s shoulder, and he held her close.

When she finally recovered and wiped away her tears, she said, “Tonight, the doctor told me that statistically, most people who suffer an injury like this have an average life expectancy of only two years. It’s not the spinal cord injury that takes them but some sort of other infection.”

Tears filled her eyes again—hot, burning tears that streamed down her cheeks. Anton continued to hold her. He kissed the top of her head.

“I need to be there for him,” she said. “I can’t abandon him now.”

Anton nodded.

For a long while, they sat together on the edge of the bed, dazed and traumatized, saying nothing. When Lillian yawned for the third time, Anton kissed the back of her hand. “You’re tired. You need to get some rest.”

“Yes.”

He stood up, and she walked him to the door. Before he left, she took in the full force of his gaze.

“Where do we go from here, Lillian?” he asked.

“We don’t go anywhere,” she replied, almost instantly. “I can’t see you again. Not while Freddie is fighting to survive. It would break his heart. I’m quite sure it would destroy his will to live.”

Anton bowed his head with understanding and wept softly. She bowed her head, too, and they stood apart, afraid to touch each other.

After a moment, Anton stepped toward her for one last loving embrace. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Me too. This isn’t how I wanted this to end, for any of us.” She drew back. “Please don’t write to me or call me. Don’t try to contact me. I don’t think I could bear it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” he said, “but I won’t stop loving you, and I’ll wait for you. However long it takes. I’ll wait forever.”

She frowned and shook her head, her voice laced with sorrow. “Please don’t say that. It sounds as if you’ll be waiting for Freddie to die. I can’t live with that.”

He nodded and touched his forehead to hers, and she felt transported back to the vineyards and wine cellars of Tuscany, to the dinner table beneath the leafy trellis at the villa, where candle flames flickered in the warm evening breezes and laughter filled the night. To the conversations she’d had with tourists who were beguiled by the sights, scents, and flavors of Italy. It all felt like a fantasy with no connection to her current or future physical reality. From this moment on, those memories would become a part of her dreams.

She closed her eyes and worked hard to imprint the images in her mind. To never forget.

“I’ll be here for you,” Anton said. “If you ever need anything, you’ll have it.”

Her heart was aching, as if it were suffering a slow, painful death. She didn’t want to drag this out. She wanted him to leave, to put a swift end to this unbearable torture.

Lillian lifted her face and kissed Anton softly on the lips, but he wouldn’t let it go with that. He pulled her close and deepened the kiss for one final moment of passion.

When he drew back, a door swung shut over Lillian’s heart, and she knew, from that day forward, it would be locked away forever, until she and Anton met again. In this life or in the next.





CHAPTER 24


FIONA


Tuscany, 2017

“I don’t know how to feel right now,” I said, wiping tears from my cheeks and squinting into the sunshine as a small sailboat passed by. “If what you’re telling me is true, that means my father knew about my mother’s affair all along and that it wasn’t a secret at all. But I’ve been carrying the burden of that secrecy, hiding it from him, since I was eighteen years old.”

There was something intense in Francesco’s eyes as he watched me with scrutiny, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. He almost seemed to be enjoying this. I supposed he was relieved that the truth was finally out.

“But if my dad already knew,” I said, “why did Mom make me promise to keep it secret from him?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Francesco replied. “Because she wanted Freddie to believe that you were his child. She asked Anton to keep the same secret, and he did. For the rest of his life, he never broke that promise.”

“Because of the guilt he felt?”

“Partly, yes, but not entirely. The real reason Anton never revealed the truth was because he simply couldn’t break a promise he had made to your mother. That’s how much he loved her.”

I pondered all of this as I twisted my signet ring around on my finger. “But my dad didn’t even want children. Why did Mom feel she had to lie about it?”

“Because everything changed after the accident. She knew how afraid he was that she would leave him for Anton one day, and if he knew you were Anton’s child, he might have simply given up wanting to live. She was very protective of him. She had to be, and I believe a part of her felt that, in the end, it was her purpose in this life.”

“Her destiny,” I said. “To care for someone who couldn’t take care of himself.” I looked across at Francesco. “She was always very good at being a mother—to both of us, I suppose. But when did Anton find out about me? Did Mom tell him when she found out she was pregnant, or did she tell him years later?”