Chapter 35

THIRTY-FIVE

Sabella

The morning breaks sunny and fresh. Light streams through the sliding doors. I left them open a crack so that I could smell the sea. The fragrance of honeysuckle drifts in with the salty air. Birds chirp in the garden. A seagull calls from farther away. The season has changed from winter to spring.

I lie still for a moment, experiencing the sounds and the smells. The warmth of Angelo's body that's curved against mine. The weight of his arms around my waist. I savor every impression of my senses like a person who came back from the dead, appreciating the simple but profound luxuries. The luxury of waking up on a beautiful morning in the arms of a man who cares about me. A man who needs me. Who appreciates and respects me. I see it in his eyes when he looks at me. I see it in how hard he tries to make up for the things that went so wrong.

Life is too precious to dwell on the bad and negative experiences. I learned that from the kids. Despite how hard their short lives had been, they never complained. They fought and survived. They have such a simple way of looking at life. Perhaps that's the secret of being happy. Not to overcomplicate things. To just appreciate every moment, because each second is a gift.

I turn, feeling the effort, but I'm less tired than yesterday.

The moment I move, Angelo opens his eyes. "What's wrong, cara?"

"Nothing."

He kisses the tip of my nose. "You look better."

I grin. "You look worse."

He scoffs. "Compared to your brother, I got off lightly."

"Macho much?" I tease.

"Just honest."

I chuckle. "And humble?"

He grunts.

When I make to move, he tightens his hold.

"Stay." He nuzzles my neck with his nose. "The kids won't be up for a while yet."

It's tempting, but I want to see the sunrise. I want to live this new day to the fullest. "I'm suffering from cabin fever. A bit of fresh air will do me good."

He's up in a wink. "Let me help you."

"No," I say gently. "I can manage alone." At the dark look that comes over his face, I add, "I promise I'll ask if I need help."

Somewhat appeased, he gives me space. "I'll go make coffee. Dial the kitchen if you need me."

I flash him a smile before going to the bathroom. After doing my grooming, I dare a glance in the mirror. I couldn't avoid seeing the state of my body when I undressed to shower, but I had a choice when it came to my face. I haven't been able to look until now, but I feel ready today.

It's not as bad as I expected. The bruises under my eyes are fading to a yellowish shade of green. The one on my temple is still purple, but it's smaller than I imagined. My hair is dull and tangled. I didn't wash it because I felt dizzy when I tilted my head forward or backward. I may take Mattie up on her offer to wash my hair today. I tie the long strands in a loose ponytail and dress in yoga pants and a T-shirt. Just to be dressed in clothes instead of my pajamas already makes me feel more human again.

Except for the sounds coming from the kitchen, the house is quiet when I slowly make my way downstairs. The mental image of Angelo preparing coffee makes me smile.

At the front door, I take a puffy jacket from the coat closet and pull it on before going outside.

Mattie sits on a porch bench facing the sea with a blanket covering her knees.

She looks up when I close the door behind me. "Hey."

"Hey." I go over. "Is there space for two?"

She lifts the blanket and scoots to the side.

When I'm seated, she covers my legs and pulls the blanket up to my waist.

"This is so peaceful," she says, staring at the flat surface of the turquoise water. "The sea is different here. Quieter. Less stormy and dark."

"Yes, it's different. I can't wait for summer so I can go for a swim."

She shoulders me gently. "Winter never stopped you from swimming."

"That's true."

Other things did. The fear of missing home too much. The fear of longing to go back to South Africa, but I no longer want to return to my home country.

Squinting at the sparkle of the sun rays on the water, I ask, "Is Ben still sleeping?"

She laughs. "He's been up since five, but Jared is playing with him to give me a break."

"That's kind."

"Jared is great." She sighs. "This feels like old times, doesn't it?"

"Yep." But like the sea, it's different too. This time, I'm not sitting under a blanket next to my sister while hiding from myself. I'm no longer ashamed of my love or my choices.

"Do you miss Great Brak River?"

"I miss it like you miss a place with nostalgic memories, but this is home now."

She looks at me. "You love him, don't you?"

I don't know how to answer that. How do I tell my sister that I love the man who killed our dad? I made my peace, but how is she supposed to live with that?

Her gaze softens. "You loved him from the very first moment."

"Why do you say that?" I ask, my voice a little hoarse.

"I could see it in your eyes. It was impossible not to notice the difference in you when you walked into the kitchen dressed in your bikini and shorts instead of your party dress. You had this impenetrable bubble around you. Not even Mom's anger could shake you. And when I looked around the doorframe and saw him walking away, I knew why you wore that goofy look on your face. You'd already left us then, long before he took you away."

I take her hand. "I didn't leave you."

"Not physically, but you were already with him from that moment on." Her expression turns pained. "I knew you loved him when Ryan told you he stole Dad's book. The devastation on your face spoke a thousand words. You always cared for him, even when you thought you didn't."

"Does that make me a horrible person?"

She cups my cheek and gives me a sad little smile. "No, Bella. No one has the right to judge you. You alone are responsible for your happiness, and I say you've more than earned living your life the way you damn well please."

Tears of gratitude burn behind my eyes. "I don't want to hurt Mom or Ryan."

"You almost died. You're lucky you're alive. The doctor told us so herself when we called the hospital. So, stop worrying about other people. They've had their chance. They made their choices. It's time you make yours. If they love you, they'll respect your decisions, and I know for a fact they love you."

"Thank you," I whisper, placing my hand over hers where her warm palm rests on my cheek.

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'd be a shitty sister if I couldn't support my baby sis." Pulling free, she puts her arm around my shoulder. "Damn." She shivers. "It's cold out here."

I want to laugh but it still hurts too much. "Do you want to go inside? Angelo made coffee."

"Let's go grab a cup. I can do with some breakfast too."

When I follow her inside, I feel so light it's as if I'm floating on a cloud. I don't recall a time since becoming an adult that I felt this free.

"Have you met Angelo's niece and nephews?" I ask when Mattie and I walk into the kitchen.

The welcoming aroma of coffee hangs in the air, but Angelo isn't there. He must've gone upstairs to shower.

"Last night." She takes two mugs from the cupboard while I sit down at the table. "Heidi introduced them after dinner." She pours coffee from the carafe. "The boys seem a little rough around the edges, but I like how they have their feet planted solidly on the ground. They're very autonomous for their age."

I rest my chin in my hand. "What about Sophie?"

"She didn't come down for dinner. Apparently, they got bad news. I hope it wasn't anything serious."

"Bad news indeed." I glance at the door before continuing. "Their parents were missing for some months. It turned out they were murdered. The kids only found out yesterday."

"That's terrible," Mattie whisper-exclaims. "Those poor kids. I feel horrible for them, especially knowing from personal experience what they must be going through."

We fall quiet when Heidi and Doris enter the kitchen from Heidi's quarters.

"You're up," Heidi says, giving me a bright smile. "You look much better."

Doris points a finger at me. "You should be in bed. It's too soon to gallivant around the house."

"I feel good." I smile at Mattie. "I think I'll take you up on the offer of washing my hair."

"Whenever you're ready," Mattie says with a warm look in her eyes.

Doris marches to the fridge. "Breakfast first. You can't do anything on an empty stomach."

While Doris scrambles eggs and fries bacon, Heidi sets the table for the kids' breakfast.

The younger boys storm into the room a few minutes later, dressed but their hair unbrushed. Johan enters with dignified steps, trying hard to be older than his age. Sophie follows demurely with a downturned gaze.

She didn't come to say goodnight when Angelo brought the boys last night. When I knocked on her door, she refused to open it.

Concern tightens my chest. "Hey, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" When she doesn't answer, I open my arms. "Come give me a good morning hug."

She glances at Mattie before saying politely, "Good morning," but instead of coming over, she climbs onto a chair.

The rest of the meal passes in a flurry with Doris serving everyone seconds and the kids running late for school.

Angelo walks into the kitchen dressed in a blue button-down shirt and dark slacks. He looks and smells delicious. The top two buttons of the shirt are undone, showing a hint of the ink that covers his chest. There's something so right and yet so wrong about a dangerous man dressed perfectly civilly. It's like a wolf in sheep's clothing. I can't stop myself from staring.

He walks over and bends down to press a kiss on the top of my head. "How are you doing, cara?"

I smile up at him. "Good."

His tone is a little cooler when he addresses Mattie. "Good morning, Matilde. I hope the room was comfortable."

She cups her mug, meeting his gaze head-on. "It's perfect, thanks."

"How about Ben? Is the crib adequate?"

"Yes," she says. "It's a fine piece of furniture. It looks like an antique."

"It was Angelo's crib," Heidi says. "His mother bought it from an antique shop and restored it herself."

Angelo stiffens.

"No wonder it's so beautiful," Mattie says. "Thank you for letting us use it."

"You're welcome," he says in formal tone before turning to me. "I'm taking the kids to school. I'll be back in an hour. Do you need anything from the village?"

I shake my head. "I'm fine."

He looks at Heidi. "Can I bring something from the market?"

"Doris and I are going after breakfast to do some shopping for dinner."

He nods. "Let's go, kids. Say goodbye to the ladies."

étienne and Guillaume hop from their chairs and put their plates and glasses in the dishwasher before running to the door and calling out greetings while Johan clears his place setting in a less rushed manner. Sophie does her share, but she doesn't look at us as she says goodbye.

Angelo gives me another peck on the cheek before ushering them down the hallway.

When he's gone, Mattie gives me a knowing grin.

"What?" I say, raising my shoulders.

"Nothing," she replies, her grin intact.

During the day,I have more visitors, which makes me glad I asked Mattie to wash my hair. Fabien stops by after lunch with a huge bouquet of handmade chocolates and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. He entertains my mom, Celeste, and Mattie with stories of his world-famous clients, boasting that he even shopped for the queen of England and the prince of Monaco.

Roch swings by in the late afternoon, walking with crutches. Heidi serves tea in the lounge area of the room. Angelo considerately gives us a moment, excusing himself to fetch the kids from school.

"I wanted to say thank you—" I start.

"No thanks needed." He shifts into a more comfortable position on the chair. "I'm glad to see you looking so good."

"Don't exaggerate," I tease before turning serious again. "You saved my life and almost sacrificed yours in the process."

"We're both alive. That's what matters." He pins me with a look. "Do you understand?"

I know what he's trying to tell me. I give him the same reply I gave Angelo. "I don't break as easily as that."

"No." His mouth curves into a smile. "You don't."

"Angelo said he asked you to work for him again."

"He knows why I won't."

"Congratulations." I lean over and squeeze his arm. "I'm really happy for you, Roch."

"Thanks." He coughs and looks away. "I'm sorry about?—"

"I know."

When he meets my gaze again, the light in his eyes is compassionate. "You can always try?—"

"Yes. Someday, maybe."

He nods.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" I ask, making my voice bright.

He winces. "I'd prefer a whisky, to be honest."

"Same here. I wouldn't mind a glass of wine."

He sighs. "Yup."

"But doctor's orders."

"Soon," he says with meaning.

We both know he's referring to so much more than whisky and wine.

"Soon," I agree.

I follow suit when he gets to his feet with a grunt.

Picking up his crutches, he says, "I guess I'll see you at school."

"I guess you will."

"Then I'll see you around, Sabella," he says on his way to the door.

My mom and Mattie enter just as he exits. They must've waited in front of the door.

"Who's that man?" Mom whispers, staring after him.

It's a lot more complicated than telling her he's the man who saved me. That he shot those men. That we'll always share a part of what happened, and that it's comforting in a strange way to have someone as unpretentious as Roch who won't make a fuss to carry that burden with me.

"Bella?" Mom says, her brow pleated.

"He worked for Angelo, but he's Johan's teacher now."

"Oh," Mom says. "How kind of him to visit you when he's on crutches himself. A blond woman drove him. I was just returning from a walk around the garden with Brad when they arrived." She muses, "I wonder why she stayed in the car," before asking, "What happened to him?"

"Accident," I say. "Heidi made tea. Would you like a cup?"

"I'll pour," Mattie says.

"Where's Celeste?" I ask. "Wouldn't she like to join us?"

"Ryan took her and Brad for a drive along the coast," Mom says, taking the cup Mattie hands her. "Brad wouldn't nap, and a car ride always lulls him to sleep." Her expression turns far-off. "This feels a little like the old days."

Mom launches into telling funny stories from our childhood days, reminding us how Mattie served Uncle Fred and Aunt Judith water from the fountain in front of the house when she was little, and how they only discovered it after they'd drunk it. Aunt Judith was too polite to say anything, but Uncle Fred asked Mom why the water tasted so foul. To add insult to injury, they found a couple of slimy frogs in the fountain.

"How are they by the way?" I ask.

Mom waves a hand. "Judith is a patron at the performing arts council of Cape Town now. It keeps her busy. Fred is Fred, still playing golf and counting his money every night."

We talk a little more until Angelo returns. He pops his head around the door to tell me the kids are having a snack in the kitchen.

"I wanted to see if you needed anything." He glances at Mom and Mattie. "But I see you're well looked after."

"Excuse me," I say when he's gone. "I want to check on the kids. I'm worried about Sophie."

"Mattie told me," Mom says, getting to her feet. "Those kids need some love and cuddles. I told the boys I'd make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow. Guillaume told me he wants to learn to play the piano."

"His music teacher really inspired him."

"We should find him a piano teacher." Mom straightens her shoulders. "I'm going to look into it today. All the more reason for shipping your piano over."

Mattie gathers our cups and the tray. "Do you want me to walk you down, Bella?"

"I'll shout if I need you."

They leave the room with Mom chatting animatedly about piano lessons. It hurts when I get to my feet, but the pain isn't the constant blunt ache stabbing into my gut of when I regained consciousness. It's more of a sharp needling in my ribs that fades when I don't put strain on my muscles.

In the dressing room, I open the drawer in which Heidi packed my jewelry. Angelo gave me the code of the safe, but I'm yet to put the precious diamonds and rubies away. I take out the flat blue box with the Italian jewelry store logo before making my way downstairs.

The boys are having cookies and milk in the kitchen. They run up to hug me, taking care not to squeeze too hard.

"Sabella," Guillaume exclaims. "Angelo told us a secret."

Johan gives him a slap upside the head. "Which means you have to keep your mouth shut."

"Ouch," Guillaume cries out with an indignant expression, rubbing his skull.

"Don't hit your brother," I say in a stern voice.

Johan shoots Guillaume an accusing look. "He was going to shoot his mouth off and spoil everything."

Crossing his arms, Guillaume says with a sulking face, "I was not."

"That's enough." Heidi wipes crumbs from the table. "We're not going to get into a fight. The doctor said Sabella needs peace and quiet."

Guillaume pouts. "He started it."

étienne says with one of Doris's famous oatmeal cookies stuffed into his mouth, "You're not supposed to say there's a secret, dumbass."

"We don't speak with a full mouth," I chide. "And no swearing."

"Sorry, Sabella," étienne mumbles around the cookie.

I catch Johan's gaze. "You're the big brother. You should always protect your younger brothers. Hitting them is not only wrong but it also sets a bad example."

"Sorry," Johan grumbles.

"I'll be honest," I say. "I'm not very good with surprises. Is it a good one?"

"Oh yes," étienne says, nodding enthusiastically.

"You're going to love it," Guillaume agrees, putting emphasis on love.

"In that case, I can't wait."

"See?" Johan says, disgruntled. "Now it's no longer a surprise."

"It is if I don't know what it is. Plus, now I have something to look forward to."

Johan shoots Guillaume a look that says, Now, look what you've done.

"Where's Sophie?" I ask.

"Dunno," étienne and Guillaume say in unison.

"Probably in her room," Johan pipes in.

Heidi sighs. "She didn't want to come to the kitchen for her snack, so I took a tray to her room."

"She's outside," Angelo says behind me.

I turn to see him standing in the doorframe.

"On the porch," he says with a tilt of his head in that direction, his tone telling me I better go have a look.

He comes over and wraps his arms gently around me, kissing me full on the mouth. "How are you feeling?"

The boys grin. étienne nudges Guillaume.

"Great," I say, my chest expanding with a warm feeling.

Keeping an arm around my shoulders, he leads me down the hallway. "I can't talk sense into her."

I stare up at him. "Sophie?"

"She refuses to listen or to talk to me." He sounds despondent. "I'm out of my depth here, Sabella. Tell me what to do."

"Let me try."

He opens the front door and takes my hand to lead me outside. Sophie sits on the top step of the porch with her knees drawn up and her arms resting on them. Next to her, Beatrice and Alison's heads peek from her open backpack. A few pieces of clothing, a water bottle, and a plastic container with oatmeal cookies are visible.

I lower myself carefully next to her.

She tightens her jaw and fixes her gaze on the sea.

I glance at Angelo who watches us from the door with a shoulder braced on the frame and his ankles crossed, looking both worried and amused.

I turn to Sophie. "It looks as if you're leaving."

She crosses her arms and plants them firmly on her knees. "I think I'll go back to the cave."

"Why? Aren't you happy here?"

"You don't want me anymore," she says, a frown scrunching up her small face. "You just want to play with Brad and Ben."

"That's because I haven't seen them in a long time. It's natural that I want to spend time with them. In fact, it's the first time I met little Ben since he was born. But that doesn't mean I love you less. It just means that sometimes, you have to share the people you love."

She kicks at a leaf that the breeze blew onto the step. "You love them more because they're your family."

"You're my family too." I put an arm around her shoulder. "When Angelo gave you Alison, did you love Beatrice less?"

She ponders the question before admitting sulkily, "No."

"Then why should I love you less? You'll always be my special little girl."

She looks at me. "Really?"

"Really. I'll always be there for you, and I hope you'll always be here for me too. It'll hurt my heart if you leave us to go back to the cave."

"Why?"

"Because I'll miss you very much."

"And you'll be sad?"

"Yes, very."

Dropping her head in her arms, she bursts into tears. I give a start, glancing at Angelo again when big, ugly sobs rack her narrow shoulders.

He raises his palms, looking as helpless as I feel.

"Sophie, sweetheart." I hug her closer. "What's wrong? Is it the news about your parents? I know we haven't spoken about that yet, but?—"

She lifts her head and bawls, "I'm sorry I was a mean person."

"What? Oh, Sophie. You're not mean."

"Yes, I am," she says between heart-wrenching sobs. "I was mean to Brad."

I stroke her back. "Why do you say that?"

Hiccuping, she says, "Heidi wanted to give him one of my books to read to keep him busy so that his mommy could get dressed and I said no." Crying harder, she continues, "And now I'm really sorry that I'm so mean."

"We all do things we sometimes regret," I say gently. "But it's never too late to make it right. Why don't you pick a story you think Brad will like and lend him your book?"

She sniffs. "Do you think he'll like that?"

"I'm sure he will."

She wipes her nose on her arm. "Am I a bad person, Sabella?"

"No, sweetheart." I wipe a strand of hair from her face. "You're not a bad person. We're human. That means we make mistakes."

She hiccups again. "Do you still love me?"

I wrap my arms around her. "Forever."

"Even if I'm sometimes bad?"

"Always. That's why we call it unconditional love."

She blows out a shaky breath before pulling away. "I think I'll stay here with you and Angelo and Brad and Ben and Johan and étienne and Guillaume and Heidi and Doris and Mattie and Jared and…" she sucks in a noisy breath, "…Celeste and Ryan and Granny Margaret."

"I think everyone will like that very much."

Like the sun shining through the rain, a smile breaks out on her teary face.

I take the box from my pocket and hand it to her. "I have something else for you."

She stares at the box. "For me?"

"Open it," I urge.

She flips back the lid. For a moment, we say nothing as she studies the delicate gold bracelet with the interlinking daisies and diamond centers.

Looking back at me, she says, "It's very pretty."

"Look." I remove the bracelet and hold it up in the light. "The petals are like threads of spun gold. You can see through them. It was made for a young lady." As nostalgic memories flood me, I add with a soft smile, "For a princess."

"Is it a gift?" She studies my face. "For me?"

"Angelo's father gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday, and I think it should stay in the family. As you're the oldest girl, you should have it." Placing the bracelet on her palm, I say, "One day, you can give it to your oldest daughter."

"Do you mean that, Sabella?"

I kiss her nose. "With all my heart." I wrap the bracelet around her slender wrist. "Do you want me to fasten it for you? See? It looks as if it was made for you."

"Thank you, Bella." She wraps her arms around my neck and burrows her face in my hair. "I'll never ever lose it. I promise."

"Good." I kiss the top of her head before pulling away to look at her. "Do you want to talk about what happened to your parents? Angelo and I lost parents too. We know how much it hurts."

"Not so much," she says, studying the bracelet in the sun. "Not as much as when I thought you didn't love me anymore."

"You never have to doubt that. And if you ever need to talk, we're here for you."

"Thanks." She stands. "I'm going to take a book to Brad. The Little Mermaid. Because there are crabs and fish and crayfish in the story, and he likes the sea and boats." Her eyes light up. "I can't read yet, but maybe Celeste will let me tell him the story."

"I'm sure he'd love that."

Grabbing her backpack, she sprints for the house and nearly knocks Angelo off his feet.

He watches me with a soft, warm light in his eyes.

"What?" I ask.

Walking over, he takes my hands and gently pulls me to my feet. "That easy, huh? How do you always know exactly what to do and say?"

"I don't, but you're right. Love is easy."

He frames my face between his palms. "With you, yes. It's easy." His expression turns serious as he brushes his thumbs over my cheeks. "You'll be the death of me, Sabella Edwards-Russo."

As the subtle fragrance of his spicy cologne and the powerful masculinity of his presence wash over me, a spark of old ignites in my belly.

"I hope not," I whisper.

I want to say more, things for which I can't yet find words, but he seals his lips over mine in the tenderest of kisses, showing me that it's okay. That actions speak louder.