Chapter 5

FIVE

Sabella

Istand in the middle of Sophie's room, clutching her favorite fluffy bear against my chest. My heart rips in two when I remember her quiet tears and unhappy face as Angelo carried her to his car. I'll never forget the look in her eyes when she stared at me from over his shoulder. Her dejection wasn't aimed at him. It was targeted at me as if I was the one who betrayed her.

Bringing the bear to my nose, I inhale the scent of candy apples. The perfume is part of a toiletry range for little girls that Fabien supplied. It was a nice touch when he stocked her bathroom. The smell reminds me so vividly of Sophie that I feel her absence with even more intensity.

A sob catches in my throat. I didn't think I could be lonelier than when Angelo banished me to this deserted house, but I was wrong. My attachment to Sophie makes the emptiness that settles around as well as inside me worse. I lost people I cared about before. Losing my dad left a scar on my soul that will never heal. Saying goodbye to my family without knowing if I'll ever see them again flayed my heart open and left it bleeding. When Pirate died, my grief was like a ravine that opened in my being never to close again.

I thought I'd be stronger and better prepared from experience, but as it turns out, every separation is unique. The suffering each one brings is new and different. The gnawing concern about falling pregnant doesn't help. What I do know from experience is that there's only one remedy—time and more time. And the only medicine that will prevent me from falling into a pit of despair while time does its magic is to keep busy. Clean. Cook. Bake. Compile an endless list of chores.

My priority is to get to the village. I not only have to buy a pregnancy test, but I'm also anxious to explain my absence to the people I started caring about. They must think I abandoned them without as much as an excuse or explanation. It's only late morning. If I leave now, I can make it back before sunset.

The urgency that drives me doesn't dull the ache in my heart, but focusing on what needs to be done distracts me. Once I'm warmly dressed, I sneak out the kitchen door and hide behind the bushes until I reach the secret path Sophie showed me. This way, Angelo's guards won't spot me.

Anguish fuels my steps, allowing me to reach the village in record time. Mrs. Paoli clasps a hand over her heart when she opens her door. Diva runs up with a bark. I crouch down to pet her.

"My goodness," Mrs. Paoli cries out. "I thought you moved away." Adopting a guilty look, she continues, "Or that your husband locked you up in that horrible house on the hill. We didn't know what to do. Mr. Martin was on the point of gathering a search party."

"I'm sorry." I give Diva a scratch behind the ear before straightening. "Sophie had measles, and I had to stay home to take care of her. I wish I could've called."

Mrs. Paoli pulls her mouth into a frown. "Do you still not have a phone?"

I make a face. "I'm afraid not."

"Your husband needs a good lecture, that's what that devil of a man needs."

Quickly changing the subject, I say, "I'm glad to see you're looking better."

"I'm fully recovered, thank goodness. More importantly, how's Sophie?"

The pain flares like a fresh wound that's being poked. "She's fine now." I add in a bright voice, "In fact, she's starting school tomorrow."

She folds her hands in front of her. "That's good then."

"I suppose you don't need me to walk Diva any longer," I say with a smile.

"Don't let that turn you into a stranger. Stop by for a cup of tea when you're in town."

"I'll do that."

"Would you like one now?"

"I'd love to, but I have an errand to run before I go past Mr. Martin and Corinne."

Clicking her tongue, she says, "We don't have to be so formal. Why don't you just call me Antoinette like all my friends do?"

The unspoken implication that she considers me a friend is touching. "All right. I'll see you soon, Antoinette."

She tells me to wait while she runs to the kitchen and fetches a bag of cookies for Sophie. Not having the heart to tell her that I have no idea when I'll see Sophie again, I thank her and leave before she sees the turmoil that must show on my face.

My next stop is at the pharmacy. Mrs. Campana utters a shriek when I enter.

"Oh my, Sabella. Where on Earth have you been?"

I tell her about Sophie's measles.

"It's a good thing you had measles when you were young," she says when I finished my story.

A customer enters. I step aside for Mrs. Campana to help the lady, pretending to browse the vitamins.

Once we're alone again, Mrs. Campana gives me a quizzical look. "Do you need something?"

"Actually, I do." I approach the counter. "A pregnancy test."

Her eyes grow round behind her glasses. It takes her a moment to hide her reaction, but she doesn't quite pull off her usual professional expression. "How late are you?"

"My period isn't due for another two to three weeks."

"It'll be too early then," she muses. "You better wait the full three weeks before using the test." She opens a drawer under the counter, takes out a packet, and puts it in front of me. "To be sure, you should go to the laboratory in Bastia for a blood test."

I hide my discomfort by fishing the money I earned from Mr. Martin from my pocket.

When she's rung up my purchase, she hands me a bag and my change. "Are you planning a family?" She probes more gently, "Is this what you want?" Then she shakes her head. "Forgive me. It's none of my business."

"That's all right." My smile is meek. Not knowing how to explain, I settle for, "I didn't plan this."

She leans over the counter and pats my arm. "Don't worry. You're not the first couple who had a slip-up. You may not be pregnant."

My throat is too thick to speak. I can only nod my gratitude for her support.

"If you're not pregnant, get a prescription for birth control from your doctor asap," she says. "And no more slip-ups until the birth control is effective. You're so young still."

I couldn't agree more.

"Please keep me posted. If there's anything I can do, you know where to find me."

"I appreciate that."

Her compassionate look follows me to the door. I'm glad to escape into the mild winter's day.

At home, I hide the test in an evening clutch bag that I shove into the back of a drawer in the dressing room.

I think about little else until Heidi shows up the next day to deliver groceries as well as a phone and a charger. Angelo's number is programmed on the phone.

"In case of an emergency," she says. "See? I told you Mr. Russo would get you a phone."

What she doesn't mention but we both know is that I can only dial his number. All other numbers are off limits.

The look she gives me says that it's a start, but I'm not in the habit of lying to myself, so I ask her for news about the kids to change the subject.

She tells me the kids got their vaccinations and started school in the village. At least Angelo kept his word about not sending them away to boarding school. If I'm honest, I'm curious about what's happening at the old house. Is my husband entertaining other women? Is that why he doesn't come here? Is that why he asked Heidi to deliver the phone instead of bringing it himself? Or is it because of what I said?

I shouldn't care, but I do. I'm trying to scrape together the courage to ask Heidi about Angelo, but in the end, I'm too embarrassed to ask her so directly, and the only information she offers is that the children are doing fine.