CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A RISTOPHANES HAD NEV ER found alcohol to be all that enlightening, but by the time he arrived back at his London residence that night, he’d decided that perhaps he needed to try it. Anything that might blunt the sharp edges of the pain in his chest, a pain that seemed to grow wider and deeper with every passing second.

He’d done the right thing, he was certain. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life to make her walk away from him, but he’d managed it. He’d taken himself out of the equation and now there was nothing in her way to prevent her from having the kind of life she deserved.

As to their children, well, he would have to deal with that at some point. They were probably better off without him. At least they’d have one parent who wasn’t irretrievably damaged by their past.

On arrival at his residence, he was informed that Nell wasn’t at home, which immediately alarmed him, at least until one of his staff informed him that she’d taken herself off to a hotel for the evening.

That made the pain inside him grow teeth, long and sharp, and he sent a couple of staff off to check she was okay and to make sure she had everything she needed.

Really, it should have been him going to the hotel, not her. Then again, that was another reason why he would make her a terrible husband.

After that had been accomplished, he went into his study, shut the door, and conducted a very thorough investigation of a bottle of whisky, along with an experiment in how many glasses it would take to make the pain inside him go away.

When morning came around, he was none the wiser as to how many glasses since the pain was still there, eating away at him like rust in iron, and he was on the point of getting another bottle when the door of the study opened, and Cesare walked in.

Aristophanes, slumped in an armchair, scowled at him. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded gracelessly.

‘Apparently you’re worrying people,’ Cesare said, throwing himself into the armchair opposite, stretching his legs out and folding his hands comfortably on his flat stomach. ‘People who shall remain nameless.’

Aristophanes didn’t stop scowling. ‘You’re interrupting my drinking.’

‘You do know you’re expecting twins, right?’

‘They are better off without me.’ He lifted the bottle of Scotch and poured the last remaining drops into his tumbler.

Cesare lifted a dark brow. ‘And who decided that?’

‘I did.’

‘So, you’re already deciding things for your children.’ He nodded. ‘Spoken like a true father.’

Aristophanes, who’d never found his friend more irritating and his presence more pointless than he did right now, changed his scowl to a glare. ‘You are mocking me.’

‘You deserve to be mocked,’ Cesare said unrepentantly. ‘You’re going to have twins and here you are, sitting in your study drinking and brooding like an eighteen-year-old. All the while, your lovely Nell is very upset and I’m not sure it’s wise to leave her like that in her condition.’

His lovely Nell. Beautiful, wonderful Nell.

The pain reached epic proportions, but he shoved it away, and studied his glass of Scotch instead. It was distressingly almost empty. ‘I am sparing her,’ he said.

‘And what exactly are you sparing her?’

‘The pain of being with me.’ He tossed back what little Scotch there was in the glass. ‘You don’t understand.’

Cesare shook his head. ‘Of course, I don’t understand. Me, who had no idea what to do with a surprise daughter and a woman who turned me inside out. Me, who now has the world’s most wonderful wife and child, and who is now blissfully happy. No, I definitely don’t understand anything about that.’

‘It is not the same,’ Aristophanes growled. ‘You are able to love—’

‘Everyone can love, you idiot,’ Cesare growled right back. ‘Unless you’re a sociopath and I’m pretty certain you’re not one of those. Also, I think you’re already in love with her. The choice is whether you accept it or keep on being your usual grumpy self. Scheduling lovers when you have the time and scheduling father moments along with them. I’m sure you’ll be happy doing that.’

Aristophanes gritted his teeth and stared at his friend. ‘I am not in love with her.’

‘Then why are you drinking?’ Cesare’s blue stare was uncompromising. ‘Why did you send her away? And why are you looking at me as if you want to kill me?’

‘Because you’re annoying,’ he said, meeting Cesare stare for stare. ‘Make yourself useful and get me another bottle of Scotch.’

‘No,’ Cesare said tersely. ‘Do you remember what you said to me when I was agonising about being enough for Lark?’

Aristophanes shifted in his chair, not wanting to think about it. ‘I do not.’

‘You said, and I quote, “You have a beautiful daughter and a lovely wife. Be a shame to throw all that away because you’re not brave enough to man up.”’

‘It’s not the same,’ he began roughly. ‘It’s different—’

‘It’s not different,’ Cesare interrupted. ‘You were right. I did have to man up. And so do you. You say you can’t love, but that’s just an excuse. You’re as capable of it as any man, but you’re afraid. Because love is vulnerability. Love is pain. Love is wondering if you’re ever going to be enough for someone but choosing to try anyway, because they’re worth it. Because love is worth it.’

His chest ached, agony echoing inside him. Was his friend right? Was that pain love? Was that why his life, which had kept him content for so long, suddenly seemed bleak and worthless? Had it always been like that and he just hadn’t seen it? And if so, why did he only see it now?

But, of course, he knew the answer to that, didn’t he?

You are afraid.

The thought wound through his brain and his instinct was to shove it away, but now the words had been said, it was all he could think about. He’d told Nell he was broken, that love was impossible for him, but if that was true then why did he hurt so much? Why did he want to punch Cesare in the face for telling him he was afraid?

Because it’s true. Because it’s easier to tell someone to leave than to ask them to stay.

That was what Nell had said to him before he’d made her leave. And yes, he’d made her. She’d wanted to stay with him. She loved him.

Agony twisted inside him, and a suspicion began to grow. What if it was true? That the pain he felt now was actually love? And what if the fear that lay at the heart of him was love too? What if all the doubt and anger were also love?

‘How?’ he demanded suddenly into the tense silence. ‘How are any of those things worth it?’

The look on Cesare’s face softened slightly. ‘That’s just one side of the coin, Ari. There’s the other side too. Which is knowing there’s one person in the world who will be on your side no matter what, and who makes your life better just by existing. Who brings out the best in you. Who makes you happy. What’s worth more than that?’

Aristophanes went very still as realisation came, slowly but very, very surely.

She made his life better just by existing. She made him happy. That was why his life felt bleak and meaningless now—because she wouldn’t be in it. He’d sent her away.

You gave her nothing but excuses. You’re afraid that, because of your mother, you’re not enough for a woman like her and you never will be. And you’re in love with her and you have been ever since you saw her.

And now he was hurting her.

‘It’s not better for me or our babies if you’re not there.’

That was what she’d said to him the night before, and there had been tears in her eyes, pain too. She loved him, even though he’d told her he was broken, that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. She loved him anyway. She loved him in spite of that. She thought being with him was worth all the terrible things on the other side of that coin.

She’d chosen love.

His beautiful Nell. Braver by far than he was, braver than he’d ever be. And she was right. He was a stupid man.

Of course love was worth all the terrible things it also brought with it, the pain and the doubt and awful vulnerability. Because that was not all love was. There was the pleasure and intimacy he found in her arms. The happiness that filled him when he made her smile. The delight of listening to her talk to people and charm them and make everything less fraught. The joy of watching her with Maya and knowing that soon she would be that way with their own children and how he couldn’t wait to see it. The wordless comfort he felt when she reached for his hand and held it, knowing she was with him and that, together, they could face anything.

She made his life better in every conceivable way. How could that not be worth it?

Aristophanes clumsily put down his tumbler on the floor, feeling strangely light-headed as a powerful feeling swept through him, burning, intense, like liquid flame.

‘Did she call you?’ he asked. ‘Did she ask you to come here?’

‘She wanted me to check on you,’ Cesare said quietly. ‘She was worried about you.’

‘She loves me.’ His voice sounded strange, hoarse and half choked with the power of that intense emotion. ‘She told me she loved me and I told her to walk away.’

‘Sounds logical.’ The words were oddly gentle. ‘She’s an amazing woman.’

‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘She is.’ He looked up from the fallen tumbler and met his friend’s gaze. ‘You’re right. I do love her.’

‘Of course you do,’ Cesare said and smiled. ‘So now you’re going to do what I did, which is try to be the husband she deserves and the father your children need. And if you fail, you try again and again and again.’

‘Because she’s important,’ Aristophanes said roughly, the fire burning inside him, a fire he knew wasn’t ever going to burn out. ‘Because I can’t live without her. Because she’s worth it. She’s worth everything.’

And she was, he knew that now. Which meant he couldn’t let his fear guide him. Nell was having his children and she’d faced that with courage and strength. Faced him and his ridiculous demands with the same. She’d matched him will for will, and he knew now—perhaps too late—that in the end, for all his IQ points, it was she who was smarter than he was. She who was more perceptive, more brave, more honest, more compassionate.

Cesare was right. She was better than he was in every way and he couldn’t live without her. He wouldn’t.

Aristophanes shoved himself to his feet and stood there, swaying a little yet determined. Cesare also got up, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder. Then he frowned and sniffed theatrically. ‘For God’s sake, man,’ he muttered. ‘At least have a shower first before you go to her.’

Nell sat in the featureless hotel room, on the edge of the bed, staring down at the schedule in her hand. The schedule Aristophanes had given her when they’d arrived in London. Today was supposed to be a ‘Nell’s choice’ day, yet the words made her eyes fill with tears.

There would be no choice today. Today was going to be filled with wondering what to do next and planning how she was going to cope. She didn’t know how long it would last, him absenting himself. Would he contact her again? Would she ever even see him again? And what would happen with the children? What would she say to them?

So many unanswered questions. He’d told her to leave and she had. She’d gone to a hotel because she couldn’t bear being at his Knightsbridge residence in case he came home. It hurt too much.

She had no idea what to do next.

A rush of sudden fury caught at her and she abruptly screwed up the schedule and threw the ball of paper at the nearest wall.

How dared he do this to her? How dared he abandon his children? How dared he leave her like this, weeping and feeling shattered in a featureless hotel room in a strange country?

How dared he make her fall in love with him and then tell her to walk away?

Stupid, stupid man!

Tears filled her eyes and she covered her face with her hands, allowing herself to weep for a little bit. Afterwards, she’d clean her face and have a shower. Get dressed and eat something. Then she’d try to figure out what the future looked like with twins if he refused to be a part of their little family, but until then, she was going to have a damn good cry.

There was a sudden, loud knock on the door.

Nell muttered a hoarse curse under her breath, grabbed some tissues from the table beside the bed and hurriedly wiped her eyes, before going to the door.

The knock came again, louder and more impatient sounding this time.

‘Okay, okay,’ she said tiredly, and, without bothering to check the peephole, pulled open the door.

Aristophanes stood in the doorway, his black hair standing up on end, no tie, his shirt crumpled. There was dark stubble on his jaw. He looked like hell. He was also the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.

Her stomach dropped away, at the same time as her fury leapt high. ‘What the bloody hell do you want?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you told me to leave.’

‘I did.’ His eyes were blazing silver, his voice rough with emotion. ‘I was wrong.’

Nell’s heart tightened. ‘I don’t know—’

‘Let me in,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Please, Nell. Please let me in.’

She didn’t want to and yet she found herself giving ground as he took a step forward and then another and another, backing her slowly into the hotel room, the door swinging shut behind them. Then he stopped and stared at her as if he hadn’t seen her for years and years instead of only the night before.

Nell swallowed and folded her arms. She wasn’t going to be the first one to speak.

‘I was wrong,’ he said starkly, obliging her. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you to leave. Because you’re right, it was easier to make someone go than it is to ask them to stay. And I was just...terrified that I wasn’t enough to make you stay. I’m a difficult man, Nell. I’m arrogant. I am not empathetic. And I do not like to be wrong.’ His broad chest heaved as he sucked in a breath. ‘I will make you a terrible husband and I hope to God I won’t be a terrible father, and, quite frankly, that also terrifies me. I’m terrified of not being enough for you.’

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘You’re so amazing. You’re a better person than I am in every way, smarter, braver, more honest. But... I want to try, Nell. I want to be worthy of you.’ The look in his eyes blazed brighter. ‘I’m in love with you and I don’t know how this is supposed to work... All I know is that I can’t live without you.’

There were more tears rolling down her cheeks. All her fury had died, vanished without a trace, leaving in its place something hot, something that felt suspiciously like joy.

He loved her. He really did. It was there, burning bright, in his eyes.

‘You don’t have to do anything to be worthy of me, Bear,’ she said huskily. ‘All you have to be is yourself, just as you are, arrogance, stubbornness, and difficult behaviours and all.’

He took another step towards her, and then one more, and then suddenly she was in his arms, held tight and close to his chest, his heat and his strength flowing into her. And something that had knotted tight and hard in her heart abruptly released, making her turn her face into his shirt to stem yet more tears that threatened.

‘I love you,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘I can’t live without you, Nell. Don’t ever leave me, don’t ever leave me again.’

She swallowed and lifted her head, staring up into his beautiful face. ‘I won’t. Not ever again.’

He bent and kissed her, and it went on for some time. Then she put her hands against his chest and said, laughing, ‘You’re very damp.’

‘Cesare told me to have a shower before I came to you. I was too impatient to dry myself.’

She laughed. ‘Idiot, Bear. Were you angry that I called him?’

‘No.’ He kissed her again, hungrier this time. ‘I was glad. He can be very intelligent sometimes.’ Another hot kiss, then he lifted his head, looking down at her, one hand curving possessively over her stomach. ‘Nell, I know you didn’t choose to be the mother of my children, but I would very much like it if you chose to be my wife.’

Her heart was full, a joy she’d never thought would ever be hers making a home for itself inside her. Making a home for him, too, and their babies. A family, together.

‘Yes, Bear,’ she said, smiling. ‘Yes, I think I’d like that very much, too.’