Because it was important, even though Abbie wasn’t quite sure why.
‘Do you remember what you told me? About your parents? About them never arguing?’
‘It was true. They didn’t.’
‘Because your mother did whatever your father ordered to keep the peace. You said it was the Italian way and the husband was the head of the household and his word was law and arguing was a sign of disrespect. And I said it was the Victorian way and it wasn’t going to work for us because I deserved just as much respect, and if it dented your Italian pride then you’d have to suck it up and get over it.’
A snort escaped Rafael. ‘I remember. How could I forget?’
‘And what did you do then?’
Something rueful tugged at one corner of his mouth. ‘I gave you an order.’
‘Mmm.’
He had ‘ordered’ her into bed. It had been a joke, accompanied by a kiss that had demonstrated the kind of passion Abbie knew would take her straight to paradise. The argument about the couch had suddenly become irrelevant and Rafael’s pride had been soothed.
And they’d bought the damned couch. A week after it had been installed in the apartment Rafael had spilt a glass of red wine on it and the ugly stain was irreparable. Abbie had gone out and purchased a large, blue throw to cover it. A throw in the colour of the couch she had wanted to buy in the first place.
‘It was a couch,’ Rafael growled. ‘A stupid piece of furniture. We could buy another one tomorrow if it mattered.’
‘It’s not the couch that matters.’
Abbie suddenly realised why she’d dredged up such an ancient disagreement. The reason they’d fought in the first place had just been a practice run for the fight they would have over Ella’s treatment. Rafael’s pride getting in the way of any kind of compromise had led to the awful ultimatum about the future of their marriage. ‘It’s the way we resolved the fight we had about the couch.’
Rafael’s glare told Abbie just how much she had hurt him yesterday. But there was something else there, too. Confusion? That was understandable.
‘The stain’s still there, Rafe,’ Abbie said softly. ‘It just got covered up.’
He shook his head and muttered something incomprehensible in Italian.
‘The reason we fought is still there, too. We never talked about it again, did we? We never tried to resolve anything by talking about it. We just...went to bed.’
‘And it worked,’ Rafael said fiercely. ‘It was where we could show each other how much we loved each other.’
‘It didn’t work when it was really important. When it was about Ella.’
Rafael was silent. He looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms. Abbie could only watch and wait. And hope, desperately, that she had managed to convey at least a part of how important this seemed to her.
But maybe she hadn’t.
‘It’s time Fiorella was in her bed.’ Rafael stood up, careful not to disturb Ella. He carried her to the cot and put her down, checking that her IV line and the pump attached to it was still intact and functioning. He tucked Ears in the crook of one arm and then drew the blanket over the small body. Then he reached to pick up the oversized bear at the foot of the cot.
‘Don’t take it out,’ Abbie said. ‘She’ll cry if it’s not there when she wakes up.’
Rafael looked over at her, his eyebrows raised.
‘She adores it. Especially the sparkles.’
Abbie smiled. Rafael smiled back at her.
‘Thank you,’ she said then.
‘What for?’
‘Talking to me.’ If nothing else, Abbie was beginning to see what the real barrier between them was. It had been there all along, hadn’t it? They just hadn’t paid any attention to it until it had been too late.
She saw Rafael taking a slow, inward breath. He held her gaze. ‘Maybe,’ he said slowly, ‘we should talk some more.’ A corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Instead of going to bed?’
Abbie tried to smile but her lips wobbled. ‘I’d like that.’
Rafael stepped closer. ‘I could take you out. For dinner...or a coffee. We...we could go to that place you love in the park. The...what’s it called? The Moo Cow?’
They’d been around a baby for long enough to change the way they thought and spoke, hadn’t they? Abbie smiled again. ‘The Cow and Coffee Bean.’
In Regent’s Park. The buffer between their home and the clinic, it had always been perfect as an escape for some exercise and fresh air.
‘Like...like a date?’
He inclined his head. ‘Si. Like a date.’
Like starting again, even? Maybe this was exactly what they needed. Swept along in the whirlwind of passion that had defined their early relationship and both so committed to their careers, had they ever stayed out of bed long enough when they’d been together to really get to know each other?
She could smile now. ‘I’d love that, Rafe. Coffee. And a walk. It would be perfect.’
Perfect for what? A first date? A new beginning?
‘It’s Saturday tomorrow. I’m sure we can both find a suitable time to be together.’
Abbie held his gaze. Was it too much to hope that that was what they both wanted out of this? To be really together again?
‘I’m sure we can.’
His nod was satisfied. Rafael touched his fingers to the top of Ella’s head in farewell and then stepped away from the cot. For a heartbeat he looked as if he was going to step towards Abbie’s chair. As if he wanted to kiss her goodnight. But she could see the way he paused just long enough to think about it and then controlled himself. How hard he was trying when he simply smiled and left.
* * *
Fickle spring weather decided to turn on a stunning April day on Saturday.
It felt as though fate was on his side as Rafael waited at the agreed meeting point at the start of the Broad Walk, just beside the zoo. The shriek of overexcited monkeys somewhere was having the opposite effect, however. Almost like maniacal laughter that was taunting him and setting his nerves on edge.
Did he really think that a pleasant walk on a sunny day was going to be enough to win Abbie back?
And what were they going to talk about? Dio...but women loved to talk, didn’t they? To pick things apart and give them far more importance than they deserved to have. Far more power that could be so destructive.
Even
