and lay his hand across that precious part of Maya's anatomy, to ensure his child's safety, to protect it with the promise of his love throughout its life, no matter how short or long. Please, he begged.
'I don't want the press to find out about this,' Maya said. 'I don't think I could cope with everyone speculating on whether I will last the distance with this one.'
Giorgio understood what she was saying. He was used to the press, or as used to the press as anyone living in the limelight could be. He had grown up with the comments and the fabrications and the almost but not quite truths, but Maya had grown up in an entirely different world. She had been anonymous in her small suburb, and then the city of Sydney, where she had studied before travelling abroad. She had never got used to people recognising her, stopping her in the street for a comment or a photograph. Almost from the start she had shrunk in on herself, as if she wanted to hide from the world. He could see that now, when it was almost too late to change things.
Why hadn't he protected her more? Prepared her more? He had taken so much for granted: that she would slot into his high profile life as if she was born to it. By marrying her, he had cast her into a world totally foreign to her: a world of dog-eat-dog, where people took advantage of each other for financial gain, for a higher step on the social ladder. Maya had done her best to fit in, she had played the game as best she could, but it had come at a price.
Since she had left him, it had made him see his own life in retrospect. He had not had time to properly grieve the sudden loss of his father. He was still haunted by the tragic loss of his three-month-old baby sister all those years ago. Giorgio had always known the pressure to produce an heir had come from the devastating loss his parents had experienced. They had subconsciously, or perhaps even consciously, wanted to replace the tiny daughter they had lost so unexpectedly.
Neither of them had returned to the villa at Bellagio since. It lay empty, as Maya had pointed out, for most of the year. No one spoke of it. It was too painful for Giorgio's mother, especially since his father had died. Giorgio knew he should have told Maya more about that time but he too had locked it away. The one time he had taken her there, at her insistence, he had felt on edge the whole time. It had been too hard to confront his feelings about the place where he had left his childhood and innocence behind.
'I will do what I can to keep the press from knowing about this for the time being,' he said. 'But it might not be something I can fully control. Have you seen a doctor yet?'
She pressed her lips together for a moment. 'No, not yet.' She looked up at him like a lost child looking for directions. 'I wasn't sure whether to believe the test or not. I thought I might wait a week or two more…you know…to be absolutely sure…'
Giorgio knew what she was waiting for and it struck him again how misguidedly he had handled things in the past. He had allowed her to think he viewed her early miscarriages as blips in nature's course, hoping that by outwardly taking a philosophical approach it would help her get over it without the added burden of his own sense of failure and loss. He knew how much she had emotionally invested in each of them. He had done the same. Why hadn't he told her how he felt? Maybe it would have helped her cope if he had shared the loss instead of pretending it was nothing to worry about. Each one of those pregnancies had had the potential to be a child.
Their child.
After seeing his parents go through the loss of his baby sister, he had closed the door on his feelings. It had been the only way he had coped. But it had left him seriously short-changed.
Maya had from the moment she had fallen pregnant been planning each child's graduation and wedding while he had said nothing. No wonder she thought him a heartless unfeeling bastard.
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