“I never knew any of this,” Ruby said. “My aunt had a lot of problems, and later I realized she was envious of me, even then. Enough to thwart my chance for love and destroy our marriage.”
And to deny a baby of her father, Ruby thought bitterly.
“I am so sorry I didn’t try again,” Niccolò said, smoothing his hand over hers. “Finally, I had to accept what I only knew as the truth. I became severely depressed, so my grandfather brought me here to recover. When I was feeling better, he sent me to England to study.”
As tears filled her eyes, Ruby bowed her head. Niccolò had suffered rejection, too. She wiped her eyes and raised her face to his. “I should have tried to find you again, but when I didn’t hear from you…” She dabbed her cheeks and went on. “In your letter, you said you were working in construction.”
“I did,” Niccolò said. “I left Rome to work on a new building in Milan with my friend. I sent the address to you, and I wrote many times, but I never received any more letters.”
Ruby pressed a hand to her chest. “And I thought you’d had an accident and imagined you’d died. Because I couldn’t face the alternative—that you didn’t want to see me again.”
Or our baby, she thought. How could she tell him this now? And yet, it was lies that had separated them, almost forever. She would not do that to him.
“That explains why you were so shocked when you saw me on stage,” Niccolò said gently. “I was stunned, too. We have so much time to make up for.”
Ruby nodded. “Did you reconcile with your father?” She recalled the argument that Niccolò and his father had about their marriage.
“Eventually,” Niccolò said. “He’d been right, as far as I knew. I was so devastated that I think he finally felt sorry for me.”
Ruby touched Niccolò’s hand, recalling how he’d once caressed her youthful body with those hands. And vice versa. She swallowed hard. “Did you ever marry again?”
Niccolò raised his brow with surprise. “I’ve been married all these years.”
Ruby’s heart plummeted, though she tried not to show it. “To whom?”
Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips across her skin. “To you, my darling. Though I suppose I should ask if you’ll have me again.” His voice was older and deeper, but his words hadn’t changed.
Niccolò was just as romantic as before. She lifted her lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. At once, Ruby felt seventeen again, and so in love that the rest of the world ceased to exist. She recalled their idyllic days in Varenna and the feelings of love and exhilaration that had been her constant companions through the years.
Ruby pulled away. She wasn’t seventeen anymore. It was one thing to have thoughts that brought comfort, but it was quite another to upheave her life at this late stage.
Of all the contingency planning Ruby had done over the years—life insurance, health insurance, pension funds, investments—never had she considered that Niccolò would rise from the grave and ask for her hand again.
Ruby smiled at him through misty eyes. “I think it’s too late for us, my darling.”
Niccolò shook his head. “Maybe too late to start that family we’d planned on, but not too late to grow old together. Unless, of course, you have someone else in your life.”
“I’ve never loved anyone as I did you,” Ruby said.
“I’m almost sorry to hear that,” Niccolò said in a tender voice. “A woman like you should have married, had children.”
His sweet comment sliced through Ruby. “How do you know I didn’t?”
“I never received a request for a divorce. And, painful as it was for me, it wasn’t too hard to follow the brilliant career and personal life of the world-famous Ruby Raines.”
“The studio press department supplied most of that material, but you’re right,” she said. “I never married again.”
Ruby lowered her eyes. She’d only half-addressed his comment. Her head was already spinning from seeing Niccolò and processing the details he’d shared—which were undoubtedly true.
Looking up, Ruby said, “I remember the night we told your parents we were married and how angry your father was. He advised you to annul the marriage. Why didn’t you?”
Niccolò drew a deep breath. “My father insisted I fill out the paperwork, which I did. He thought an annulment would ease my mind and give me a fresh start.” Reliving his memories, he wiped his eyes. “Except that I couldn’t bring myself to sign the final documents. As long as you held my heart, it didn’t matter what a piece of paper said. As you became more famous, I thought that someday you would call and ask for your freedom.”
A wistful smile crossed his face, and Niccolò took her hand. “Or even ask to see me again. Until then, I still had a chance. My father never understood, but fortunately, my parents had many other grandchildren. The years passed, and the pain subsided. Finally, our love became a bittersweet memory. I still have the papers. If you want me to sign them, I will.”
Listening to Niccolò, Ruby choked up. She couldn’t answer him. He had suffered more than she’d ever imagined. How could she possibly tell him that she’d given away their precious child? Would this be too much for him now?
In the silence between them, Ruby thought about Niccolò’s story of anguish. She shared his pain. She understood how devastating rejection was—she’d thought he had rejected her. In retrospect, Ruby wished that she had returned to Italy to search for him, but at the time, she didn’t have the strength to return only to confirm his abandonment. The mind had a strange way of coping with what it couldn’t handle to avoid a breakdown. Accepting his death was less painful than accepting his denial of her. Work kept her busy, and when she finally had time, too much time had passed.
Or so she’d thought.
Niccolò slid his arm over her shoulders, and she leaned into him, cherishing his presence. Still, he had a right to know that he had a daughter. Even if he never spoke to her again. Ruby cleared her throat.
“Would you like to retrace our steps in Varenna?” she asked.
“I’d like that very much,” he replied, tilting his head to touch hers. “Those were the happiest days of my life.”
“Mine, too,” Ruby said. She hoped he’d still feel that way afterward.
Chapter 32
Lago di Como, 2010
* * *
The sun hadn’t been up long, and Ruby was having coffee on the terrace, enjoying the fresh morning Tivano breezes from Valtellina and the north. Her mind was full of Niccolò. She could scarcely believe he was alive and living on the shores of Lake Como. And that their love had endured the distance of time.
Sipping her coffee, she watched the early ferry cut through the water from Varenna to Bellagio. The morning bells of Chiesa di San Giorgio tolled in the distance, and the scent of honeysuckle drifted on the breeze, just as on the day they’d married.
Knowing that Niccolò was alive, Ruby had hardly slept. Adrenaline surged through her, and she felt the years melt away.