Luca's Bad Girl - By Amy Andrews Page 0,52

or a statement.

Luca nodded. ‘Marissa and Carlos had a tempestuous relationship. He was twenty-three and she was eighteen when the engagement became official. He worked in Rome and was away frequently so Marissa and I hung out a lot. And when they were together they argued frequently then made up again. I think they both loved the drama of it all. And I …’

Luca paused as he remembered how love-struck he’d been. ‘I watched like a desperate puppy from the sidelines. And when she came to me and said that they were done and that it was me she’d wanted all along … I didn’t question her motives. It didn’t occur to me that she would be disingenuous. That I was some pawn to make Carlos jealous.’

Luca shook his head. What a fool he’d been for Marissa. What a stupid, naive fool. He glanced at Mia and marvelled at how little it suddenly seemed to matter.

‘And then Marissa got pregnant and she told Carlos, who she apparently was still seeing, that the baby was mine. She told me it was his and the families came to loggerheads …’ Luca shrugged. ‘It was like the Capulets and the Montagues times one thousand.’

Mia couldn’t really laugh at the joke. She could sense Luca was just skimming the surface and could only begin to imagine the repercussions.

‘So who was the father?’

Luca shrugged. ‘She miscarried and it became a moot point.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Mia murmured. ‘That must have been hard for you. Losing a baby at any stage is difficult.’ She’d been ten when her brand-new baby sister had been stillborn and that had been truly awful. ‘And you were so young.’

Luca was momentarily taken aback. His family had been too angry at the time to acknowledge the emotional impact on him, let alone support him through it. Until today his grandmother had been the only person who had understood how much grief the incident had caused him.

He nodded then paused for a moment to pick up the thread of his story. ‘A massive rift developed between the two families and it was only Marissa and Carlos’s engagement that kept them together. I became the scapegoat.’

Mia felt his pain right down to her toes. And finally she understood his compassion with Stan that first night, a man who’d loved a woman that hadn’t been faithful.

‘But … surely your parents, your sisters …? They’re your family … they’re supposed to love you. No matter what.’

Even as she said it she felt a fraud—her parents had certainly forgotten all about what they were supposed to do, bogged down in the quagmire of their grief and anger.

Luca shook his head. ‘Sicilians don’t forgive very easily and I learned right then and there that love is no guarantee of anything. That any relationship, no matter how strong, can go toxic. I was sent to live with my grandmother in Palermo and as soon as I was out of school I left and didn’t go back.’

‘Until this week.’

Luca nodded. ‘Until this week.’

‘Was it hard … seeing them again? Your brother. And Marissa?’ Luca shook his head. It had been a relief. Seeing Carlos and Marissa together no longer hurt. ‘No.’ Mia wished he’d elaborate. Was he still in love with her? But she shied from asking it, too frightened of the answer.

‘Was there any mellowing?’

He shook his head. ‘I was pretty much persona non grata.’

An almighty gust of wind seemed to shake the helicopter and her anger swirled inside the cabin with as much potency. ‘That’s not fair.’

Luca shrugged, looking out the window. ‘Life’s not fair. But I’m very pleased, very grateful to you, that I went. That I got to say my goodbye. Nonna anchored me during a very turbulent period in my life. To my shame, I don’t think I appreciated that till many years later. I was angry for such a long time.’

Mia watched his brooding profile as he seemed transfixed by rain spatter patterns. ‘I’m sure she knew.’

Luca nodded. ‘I hope so.’ He sat staring out at the inclement abyss for a moment before turning to her and saying, ‘I’ve never told anybody this. I’m not really sure why I’m telling it to you.’

All he knew was how right it felt.

Mia gave a small smile. No matter what, she did not want to read too much into such an admission. People were never the same on holiday or just before plunging to their deaths in a helicopter.

It was practically an unwritten law. ‘It’s okay. Near-death experiences