He’d made no attempt to contact her since. Nor would he.
Not after the night they’d spent together.
The mistake he’d made.
* * *
Bianca was listening to what Matteo’s doctor was telling her. When he’d asked to speak to her after a routine appointment to check on his patient she had been scared—had the exertions of the party weakened her uncle further? And her uncle had been fretful when Luca had disappeared across the Atlantic, although the news had come as an abject relief to her. His absence, however brief, would give her time—essential time—to strengthen her defences. However hopeless and impossible that was.
Familiar anguish filled her—too familiar… And it took her a moment to take in what Matteo’s doctor was telling her. But when she did, it was the very opposite of what she’d feared. Her face lit up. This was wonderful news—just wonderful.And although making contact with Luca was the last thing she wanted to do, this was something she must tell him.
Her spirits lifted, despite the anguish inside her.
* * *
Luca was replying to the email Bianca had sent him. This was good news—unexpected, but so welcome. Matteo, Bianca had written, had been deemed sufficiently strong to take part in the immunotherapy trial which—if it should work—would give Matteo real hope, for the first time, of a substantial extension of his life.
Luca’s reply was enthusiastic—how could it not be? But having hit ‘send’, he paused. Steeled himself. There was another message he must send Bianca. An essential one. A personal one.
He got out his phone…started to text.
* * *
Bianca was with Matteo in the library and she saw his face had fallen.
‘Must you?’ he asked.
‘My boss has been very good so far, and as you know, you will be in the clinic for your trial. And because it involves suppressing your immune system you will not be allowed visitors anyway. Now is the best time for me to be in London.’
Bianca’s tone was placating.
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Matteo conceded. ‘But with me away, you and Luca could spend so much time together!’
Bianca schooled her reaction. ‘I really do need to be back in London a while,’ she said.
But not for the reason she’d given her uncle.
For one far more essential.
In her head were the words Luca had written to her.
Bianca, after our night together we need to talk.
She felt her heart clench. No, they did not need to talk.
More words echoed in her head. Echoed from six long, bitter, anguished years ago.
‘It’s over,Bianca. Over!’
She did not need to hear that again…
* * *
Luca was back on a plane again—but this time his destination was far closer. He’d returned from America to find Bianca gone. Which had filled him with one purpose only.
Staying only long enough to escort Matteo to the clinic to start his treatment trial, and to assure his fretful godfather that, yes, he was heading for London the very next day, he had booked his flight.
Determination fused within him.