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‘Really? And what then, Antonio? What is this about? If you don’t want me to do this, if you don’t want me to help you get this divorce, what do you want?’ she demanded.
He couldn’t say it. He knew it.Sheknew it. She saw it in his eyes and nodded.
‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ she informed him curtly.
He had been dismissed.
‘Ivy—’
‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ she repeated, as if clinging onto the last thread of her patience.
By the time that Ivy came downstairs Agata was showing Ms Quell into the room where they’d first met. She paused on the last step, inhaling slowly and deeply, trying to remember the run of the argument she and Antonio had planned and practised over the last few days in order to convince Ms Quell that they had done their best but still needed a divorce.
She thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be such a reach to ‘fake’ an argument between them right now. She could see that Antonio was struggling, she knew that he didn’t want her to leave. But that wasn’t enough any more. She could never stay here and watch him marry another person, even if he did ask her to.
Because it wasn’t really about the marriage. It was about the fact that he would always prioritise Maria over her. She understood why…oh, God, did she. But understanding didn’t make it any easier, and shehadto choose herself this time. Not her brother. Not the library. Not Antonio even. She couldn’t continue to be the woman who’d waited in a hospital bed wishing things were different.
And she wasn’t. Not any more. Whether he had intended it or not, coming here to Italy had been…liberating for her. Before, Ivy had lived in fear of stepping out of the unknown: she took the same route to work, she worked in the same place she volunteered, knowing the layout of the building, and with the people she liked. She stayed in her flat, she watched her pennies, she lived within her means… But she wasn’t reallyliving. She’d always thought that after Jamie was settled, perhaps she’d travel. She’d find something for herself. But then the accident happened and…she’d been scared.
But now? Okay, yes, she had been chauffeured around Italy without having to spend a single penny, but she had travelled. She had seen Siena, she had visited a bustling market, she had swum in a pool and had her hair and make-up done at the fanciest of salons. She was living again. So perhaps she didn’t quite have to go back to the same home she had left. Perhaps she could begin to make small changes that led to travelling elsewhere one day. Perhaps she could start toliveagain.
Steeling her spine, she went to join Antonio and Ms Quell, who were sitting in stony silence, facing each other with a kind of grim resolve.
She pasted a smile on her lips. ‘Ms Quell,’ she greeted.
Ms Quell nodded. ‘Ms McKellen,’ she acknowledged, gesturing for her to take a seat beside Antonio, which instinctively she knew would enrage him in his own home. The sharp inhale only confirmed it.
Ivy made sure to sit further away from him than she would have chosen to, which drew a single flicker from Antonio’s jaw muscle.
‘How have you been?’ Ms Quell asked.
Ivy paused before answering. ‘Tested,’ she said ruefully. ‘By both this process,’ she said of the assessments, ‘and my husband.’ There was no heat in her words, only resignation. After all, this was a goodbye, whether Antonio willed it or not.
Ms Quell nodded. Ivy thought there was a flash of sympathy in the other woman’s gaze. And she wondered whether Ms Quell’s bluster was similar to Antonio’s—a form of self-defence. Instinctively softening, Ivy asked, ‘And how are you? I hope your flight here was okay.’
Ms Quell nodded, eyeing Antonio suspiciously. ‘It was very…quick. Thank you,’ she added belatedly, as if pained by it.
Antonio dismissed the generosity of making his private jet available for the assessments as if it were nothing, his casual display of wealth clearly irritating Ms Quell, as intended, Ivy was sure. If it wasn’t that so much was riding on the outcome of this meeting, Ivy would probably have found their exchanges funny. Two similar personalities butting heads.
There was no meanness or malice in it at all. Just both wrestling for control.
‘You attended the family event together last weekend?’
Antonio nodded, apparently clinging to his sulk and insisting on speaking as little as possible.
‘Yes,’ Ivy embellished. ‘It was…good. Difficult, but good.’
‘Difficult in what way?’ Ms Quell asked.
‘Every family has their own dynamics. It was always going to be hard, me being English and not quite fitting in. Alessia, Antonio’s mother, made a real effort but…as much as a marriage does require the support of family and friends, really, if the issue between the two people concerned is irreconcilable…’ Ivy trailed off in a shrug.
This was the point where Antonio was supposed to interrupt and accuse her of being cold and standoffish with his family, just as they had planned. But he said nothing.
Ms Quell looked between them and Ivy shifted uncomfortably.
‘Did you want to add anything?’ Ivy asked Antonio pointedly.
He looked at her, his gaze mulish. ‘No.’