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But his blank look only hurt more.
She tried not to be devastated by the fact that one of the worst days of her life wasn’t even a memory for him. She tried to focus on the fact that she had survived, both the accidentandthe realisation of just how unimportant she was to a man who had married her in name only. It wasn’t his fault. But it still hurt.
‘Three years ago, I was crossing a road when I was hit by a cyclist. I was knocked unconscious for a short time and taken to hospital,’ she said, trying to ignore the way he’d tensed in his seat. ‘When I came round, the nurse told me that they’d tried to call you because you’re listed as my next of kin,’ she explained, fighting the memory of how hopeful she’d been when she’d heard that. Of how terrified she’d been in that hospital, bruised and battered, her sight so damaged, and just how desperately she’d wanted someone to be there with her. ‘I came round before you could call back,’ she said, pressing on.
A muscle flexed in his jaw, but his gaze remained unreadable.
‘So I called you myself,’ she confessed, looking at her hands.
She’d called him and she’d so very nearly asked, begged and pleaded for him to come. If he could. Just for a short while. Just so she wasn’t alone.
‘I got your secretary and…’
She’d been such a fool. She should have known better. He hadn’t promised to be there for her, he hadn’t ever pretended to be a real husband. So no, it was not Antonio’s fault that she had imagined that he might be even remotely concerned about her.
After what she’d heard him say, she’d realised that she had to stop. Stop waiting for people to start caring about her.
‘Three years ago…’ Antonio trailed off.
Three years ago, he’d been at the tail-end of negotiations on a deal that was crucial to Alessina International. They’d been back and forth for three days straight. No one had slept, they’d barely eaten and they’d been surviving on coffee and adrenaline alone. It was a deal that hadmadehis company.
‘There’s a call from England, Signor Gallo. They say it’s about your wife?’
He remembered now. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say that he didn’t have a wife. But he did. He’d told his assistant to take down the number.
He’d said that he’d call back. But then…
‘Ms McKellen is calling from London.’
‘What is it?’he’d shouted.‘I cannot keep having these interruptions. Is it important?’he’d asked.
‘No, signor. She says it’s not.’
That he remembered the call in bits and pieces was telling of how distracted he had been—not that it was in any way an excuse. Whether the marriage was in name only or not, he should have called her back. She had been inhospital, she had beenunconsciousandalone, and he had asked if it wasimportant.
Bastardo.
He fisted the napkin in a white-knuckled grip, wishing it was his own throat. For all his superiority about protecting his family and being better than the men in his life, he was just the same. If not worse, because he’d actually thought himself better than that.
When you married her, she became your family. She became yours, not to own but to protect, to care for.
‘Ivy, I am sorry,’ he said to her now, and he was, truly and deeply. ‘I should have called you back. I should have…’
Been there for you.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she said graciously. ‘And I was fine.’
‘You were hurt,’ he stressed, taking in the little scar on her jaw in a new light. He’d seen it. His subconscious had tried to remind him.
Ivy’s inhale shuddered in her chest. She didn’t want to talk about it, that was evident, but…this woman, hiswife…she could have died and he’d not… He’d…
He swallowed.
‘IthoughtI was fine,’ she clarified. ‘Just cuts and bruises,’ she said with a shrug—as if it could offset the way her entire body had tensed as she told the story. ‘But while I was in hospital the vision in my left eye became very blurry, with dark spots. I was told that my retina had detached, but that it was okay—they would take me for surgery and repair it. No one was overly worried,’ Ivy added.
Surgery?Dio mio.
‘It was a success and I was discharged from hospital. But three days later, my vision was troubling me again. There was this flash—not like a camera flash, but enough to make me rush back to hospital. I was waiting for the doctor when—’ her hand came up to her left eye ‘—it was like a…blind slowly coming down over one eye. And…’ She didn’t have to finish her sentence. He could see the fear in her eyes. She shook her head and shrugged again.