In a Heartbeat (Heartbeat #1) (35 page)

Max stared at her as she spoke, his brows slightly furrowed over his astonished eyes.

“You’re right. I’ve never thought about it before, but you’re right,” he said and fed Stella a strawberry. As she bit the ripe fruit, some juice trickled down her chin and instantly Max’s eyes glazed over as he dipped his head and licked it.

“You know, I think there’s one final thing to add to your list, though. Something as important as the other three,” he murmured against her lips.

“What?”

“Hope.”

Later that night, as they lay in bed in each other’s arms, Max sighed and said,

“Do you remember that night in the car after we’d worked in the bar together, when I told you about my meltdown after my dad died?” asked Max, brushing his knuckles over Stella’s upper arm absent-mindedly.

“Of course.”

“I told you that what made me get my act together was beating a guy into a coma. That was part of the truth. There was something else that made me realise what a worthless piece of shit I’d become. Beppe had been my best friend ever since I can remember. He, Gia and I were inseparable. He clung to us for dear life. He was at our house so much that our parents started treating him as one of theirs.”

“Why? Where were his parents?”

“His dad was very violent. He blamed Beppe and his mum for ruining his life, when it was the other way around. His mother’s parents disowned her when she married his dad. They hated the guy, and with good reason. She was pregnant, and blinded by love, and couldn’t see what a bastard he was until it was too late. When my dad died and I started spiralling out of control, Beppe tried to be there for me, even though he had a lot of problems of his own. Gia withdrew herself from both of us, and from the world. Effectively I’d lost my sister as much as I’d lost my dad. I started hating Beppe and his constant nagging; I thought he didn’t know what I was going through, that he had no right to tell me what to do or what I needed. He stuck by me, even though I was a jerk to him. If it wasn’t for him I would have ended up much worse than I did.

“A few days before I almost killed that guy, Beppe was admitted in hospital. His dad had beaten him so badly that he thought he’d killed him. The coward that he was, he took a knife and killed his wife before plunging it into his own chest.”

Stella’s hand flew to her mouth. She was speechless, because a huge lump had formed in her throat. Max hugged her a bit closer before he continued,

“I found out about it from the news on TV. I was so absorbed in my own fucking life that I’d left my best friend alone and helpless. I couldn’t even bring myself to visit him in the hospital. That night I got drunk and wanted to die – I felt so useless. I don’t even remember how the fight with that guy started, I just knew that I poured all my desperation, grief, self-pity and anger out on him.”

Max’s voice shook and he paused to collect himself.

“Max, you don’t have to tell me this.” Stella knew that talking about it made him relive it all over again and she didn’t want to see him in such pain.

“No, I need to. I have a point with all this, I promise – just hear me out. The day I visited that guy in hospital, I gathered the courage to visit Beppe as well. He was out of intensive care and was making good progress with his recovery. When he saw me, the pain in his eyes almost killed me. He wasn’t angry with me; he was hurt beyond repair. And not just by what had happened to him, but, I later realised, by the way I looked. He saw right through me, and knew that I’d reached the point where I either fixed myself or there would be no going back. He didn’t say anything to me then; he just stared at me. He knew he wasn’t in any condition to help me, not physically, not mentally. I couldn’t take it any longer and left.

“The next time I saw him was two years later. After he got better, he moved in with his grandfather – his mom’s dad – here in Tuscany. He was the only family Beppe had left and since he was seventeen, he needed a guardian. He didn’t come back to Genoa when he turned eighteen, because his grandfather needed him here. He came back a year later, after his grandfather decided to sell everything he owned, apart from this property, and move to Sicily – where he originally came from – to retire. He gave most of the money to Beppe and made him promise that he’d live his life, make something of himself, find a dream, a goal.

“When Beppe came back it was as if he’d never left. The moment I saw him I felt that same connection we used to have before. He forgave me without a second thought, although I didn’t deserve it.”

Max paused again, overwhelmed by the emotion of talking about his and Beppe’s past and the love he felt for his friend.

“I guess what I’m trying to say – and I know I promised we wouldn’t talk about this while we were here: but I’m just going to say this and not mention it ever again. You have to talk to Lisa, let her explain where she’s coming from and find it in your heart to forgive her. She’s your closest friend; you’ve shared so much. Throwing a connection like that away because of the feelings she has for Gino, which I’m sure she fought against but just couldn’t help, would be unforgivable. I know you’ll regret it if you don’t allow yourself the chance to understand. And forgive. You know Lisa, and you know she’d never do anything without a good reason. You know how big her heart is.” Max tugged his finger under Stella’s chin tilting it upwards to look in her eyes. She didn’t resist. Her eyes were glassed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment. “Promise me you’ll try, Stella.”

Nodding, she closed her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks.

They stayed in Beppe’s house for one more day. Stella had already made up her mind that she’d talk to Lisa and try her best to forgive her, not only because she’d promised Max, but because he was right about everything. They had a very special connection that she couldn’t simply throw away because they didn’t agree with each other’s decisions. Lisa was a very responsible person; she’d never do anything without considering the consequences, and if she felt caring for that Gino guy was the right thing to do, then maybe it was. Maybe she needed help and advice. Stella was sure her cousin hadn’t shared her secret with anyone and was carrying it around, like a huge burden, all on her own.

Stella needed one more day away from reality, however. She liked being all alone with Max in the middle of nowhere. He took such good care of her, spoiling her with gorgeous food, making her laugh. If she could, Stella would have stayed here with him forever.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Max wanted to come in with Stella after he’d parked the car in the driveway, but she insisted on going alone. This was between her and Lisa, and as much as she appreciated Max’s support, she needed to ‘grow some balls’ and face her cousin. Alone.

He left, making her promise him to call straight after they’d finished talking.

Inside, Lisa was sitting on the sofa, waiting for Stella. She’d texted her before they left Beppe’s villa and knew her cousin would wait for her.

“Hi,” she said, standing up anxiously, uncertainty shadowing her usually bright green eyes.

“Hi,” Stella replied, leaving her bag on the floor and moving to sit down on the other sofa. Lisa sat back down, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She was nervous, which wasn’t a good sign. If she was so sure Stella would understand her reasoning, she wouldn’t be so nervous. “So talk. I’m ready to listen with an open mind to what you have to say, Lis.”

Clearing her throat, Lisa began, but was unable to meet Stella’s eyes.

“I met Gino a few weeks before the accident. He came into the gallery looking to buy a very specific painting. Of course I knew who he was; his photo was constantly sprawled all over the gossip magazines. I had my mind made up about him based on what I’d read, and I guess I probably looked down on him a bit. He might be a billionaire’s son, but in my eyes he was nothing more than a spoiled, overprivileged playboy. He picked up on my opinion of him almost immediately and didn’t seem pleased. But it turned out that he knew a lot about art and was really passionate about it, so as we started talking paintings, I felt that maybe I was being too harsh in my judgement. It wasn’t fair to form an opinion of him based solely on gossip. I’d never met him before.

“So anyway, he bought the painting he was looking for and left. The next week he came back, but I wasn’t working that day. He asked for me specifically and refused anybody else’s help, so the owner of the gallery called me and begged me to come in and deal with him. I did, and sold him another painting. Before he left, he asked me out for a drink. I really didn’t want to go, but felt that I’d let my boss down if I didn’t – after all, Gino was a huge client to gain for such a relatively small gallery. So we went out that evening and I had a really good time. In private Gino was nothing like the papers made him out to be. I felt this weird connection between us that I couldn’t explain.

“When he dropped me off at home, he kissed me. I felt as if I was struck by lightning. I’ve never, ever, felt such intense emotion during a kiss. When he pulled away I knew he’d felt something similar, too. It was in his eyes.”

Lisa paused and brushed a tear away from her cheek. In normal circumstances Stella would have gone to sit next to her and hug her, offering as much support as she needed. Not now, though. Lisa had to finish the story before Stella decided if she deserved any consolation at all.

“He never called me after that. I saw him the day of the accident with a brunette wrapped around his arm; they were walking around the shopping centre, all happy and cosy together. When I went past them he saw me. He looked straight at me, regret and pain written all over his face. I couldn’t deal with that; I was too hurt and embarrassed to talk to him. So I just walked past them as if I didn’t know him.

“That same night he crashed into our car and was left in a coma for several days. I don’t know why I went to see him in the hospital; I guess I needed some kind of closure. He looked so vulnerable and fragile on the bed, with all those machines plugged in around him. I sat next to him and felt that the only way I’d ever be able to move on was to forgive him for what he did, and through him forgive the man who killed my dad.” Another tear escaped Lisa’s eye and Stella felt the familiar hot streak down her cheek as well. “I told him the story of my life, thinking he couldn’t hear me. In the end I said I forgave him and turned to leave. I don’t know why, but I felt the inexplicable need to pause at the door and look at him one last time.” Lisa lifted her eyes to Stella’s for the first time since she’d started talking. The anguish in them squeezed at Stella’s heart. “I saw a tear slip down from the corner of his eye. He’d heard everything that I’d said.”

Lisa couldn’t go on talking because a huge sob escaped her mouth. Stella jumped up from where she was sitting and sat next to her cousin, wrapping her arms around her and offering the comfort she so desperately needed. After she’d calmed down a little, Lisa continued,

“He’d damaged his spine in the crash, but they operated on him and gave him the all-clear to start physiotherapy after he came out of the coma. He refused. He didn’t want to talk, to walk, to do anything. I went to visit him a few more times, feeling responsible that he was depressed because of me, because of what I’d said. I noticed that little by little the balloons, cards and flowers in his room started to disappear. His family was too ashamed of him to take him back home; he’d spoil all their fancy dinner parties. So they put him in that clinic and forgot about him. His mother visits him once every two weeks, out of obligation rather than anything else.

“I feel that what happened to him wasn’t fair. The man who killed our dads and Eric got eight years in prison, serving just four, and a fine. Now he’s out and free to live his life. Gino on the other hand, didn’t kill anyone but is stuck in that wheelchair, all the will for life sucked out of him. How is that fair, Stella?”

It wasn’t a rhetorical question: Lisa really looked at her cousin for an answer. Stella didn’t have an answer to that, so she just shrugged.

“I started visiting him in the clinic more and more often. Even though he doesn’t even focus his eyes on me, I feel strangely soothed by his presence. If I don’t see him for a few days I get agitated, disconnected. I want to get through to him, make him want to live again. But I don’t know how and it’s killing me, Stella. I’m in love with him; I’ve never felt this way about anyone, I’d do anything to help him.”

Lisa started sobbing again and Stella tightened her arms around her. She could understand being in love with someone despite all rational thought. She could also understand where Lisa was coming from with the unfairness of the situation. Who was she to judge? She’d done some awfully irrational things, too. And Lisa was right – Gino was not the man who’d killed their fathers and Eric. Stella had overreacted when she’d confronted Lisa before, and it was time to apologise and admit to some of her mistakes.

“Lis, look at me.” She lifted her head and focused her watery eyes on her cousin’s face. “I’m sorry about how I reacted before. I should have given you the chance to explain everything, but I was just so ... angry. Not at you. I’m still angry about how they died, how stupid and unnecessary their deaths were. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over that, but that doesn’t excuse how I reacted. I should have let you explain everything before I ran off. I’m so sorry.” Lisa nodded, accepting the apology, but the tears continued running down her cheeks.

Stella felt she needed to share something equally hard to admit, because she was tired of the hole it burned in her heart. Lisa was the only person she’d consider telling this to, and perhaps it would make her cousin feel better, knowing she wasn’t the only one carrying a huge secret.