Pandora's Box (8 page)

“No, no. I also need to catch up on my emails and work a bit on my thesis.”

A frown appeared on Alistair’s forehead.
We have to talk about your workaholic mania.

“What?” She shifted, turning sideways on the chair to better look at him.

“Are you planning on keeping your work schedule?” he asked. “You have been working a few hours every day since we left London. And this is our honeymoon.”
This will not do. It must stop.

Hmm... why?
“Does it bother you?” she retorted, giving him the chance to explain himself.

Say this the right way, Alistair Connor.
His fingers combed her long hair pensively. “No. If it were only that. But I don’t like the sneaking around in the morning, coming back to bed and pretending you weren’t up.”

Oh, damn.
“Yeah. Maybe I overdid it a little.” She bit her lip, caught red-handed.

He wasn’t expecting her to agree and pulled her bottom lip from her teeth. “So, do you plan to keep this pace now that we’re married?”

Wait!
“What does our marriage have to do with my work?”

Wait!
“Don’t get me wrong. I love that you’re an independent woman and that you have your own life and routine. I think you, as a woman, should have other priorities than just your partner— Your husband,” he corrected himself, quickly. “And this is important and I’ll never think of asking you to stop being like this, but I’ve always thought Gabriela and you could use a little more free time. And now, of course, me too.”

Hmm. I see.
“Well, now that we are together—”

“Married,” he corrected again immediately.

“Married.” A smile opened her lips wide. “Well, I can use Munro to come and go to Cambridge. It’ll save me a considerable amount of time. I don’t know why I never thought about it before. By June, next year, my thesis will be finished and my teaching contract will be up. It’s just one more year of hard work. I can’t throw it all away now.”

“No. Of course not. But at least while you’re getting your the PhD and teaching, you could work less at Leibowitz Oil and on the foundation, don’t you think? Davidoff and Mrs. Chanda are quite competent.”

“Yes, they are.” She sighed. “But—”

But?
Without taking his eyes from her face, he leaned back on the chair, crossing a bare ankle over his knee. He didn’t understand her workaholic mania, never had.
She doesn’t need to work
that
hard.
“But…”

“Oh, I— You wouldn’t understand.”
No one does. Only my therapists.
“I have to do it. Simple as that.”

He mused at her answer.
Talk, so I can understand.
“I can’t figure out why you keep pushing yourself, Sophia.” Worried, he frowned when her face fell. By her reaction, he knew that he had plucked the right chord. “To prove what? To whom?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone. I don’t care what others think about me.”
Really, Alistair Connor!

Bullshit, Sophia!
It was then that he remembered all the things Tavish had explained to him when she had run away to Brazil; how all the many traumas Sophia had suffered could be driving her away from social contact to relieve them, or yet to relive them in the places where they happened.

How can I make her see it?
“Hmm… Bear with me. You entered law school when you were fourteen through a court order your grandparents secured for you. Why, Sophia? You left your friends behind and never really made new ones with the new, older students at law school. Because you needed to prove to yourself that you, an orphan, could do it better than anyone else?”

He almost stopped and apologized when she flinched but he needed to unravel that side of her.

“I passed a test just like anyone else did, only with the highest grades. The university gave me a full scholarship. It was based on merit, not on my financial needs. They wanted me.”

They wanted you? Oh, my dear Sophia! Everybody does.
He raised a hand, stopping her. “So, a full scholarship. You finished law school when you were nineteen, already married to an older, successful man. Followed it with a Master’s degree. At Cambridge no less. You were already working as a lawyer.”

She flicked her hand, diminishing her accomplishments.

But he forged on, “Then you decided to help Congressmen create a new law. In Brasília.”

She shook her head, “I worked online mostly. Just once a week I went to Brasília with Gabriel. Whenever he went, I went with him. It was a good arrangement. Besides, I needed to check on the cases at the High Courts for the office I was working at.”

“And the cherry on this huge cake? A pregnancy and a beautiful baby daughter.”

By then, Alistair was ranting and not reasoning anymore.

All the times he had awakened in the mornings and discovered she had sneaked away to work, he felt lied to. Cheated. Hurt.

“Why? Because you don’t have to prove yourself? To whom? What for? Gabriel had enough money to support you. You alone, as an heiress, had enough money to enjoy a few months of less work, or no work at all. I don’t know why he let you run free at your own will. Have none of your therapists told you that you have PTSD?”

“Wait! Wait a minute here. Now you’re faulting me because of
Gabriela
? I had a wonderful and healthy pregnancy, no health problems whatsoever. And I don’t have a
disorder
. Not PTSD, nor OCD, Alistair Connor. I have normal reactions to great traumas, which is quite different.” She frowned, not understanding why he was accusing her so poignantly and unfairly. “Those things really happened to me. I didn’t dream them. I lost my parents, so what better thing to do? Study. It was that or rebellion and drugs. I had to dedicate myself to something no one could take away from me and kept me steady. What better way than with books? And Gabriel, Gabriel was special. Then I lost a grandmother a few months before Gabriela was born. I was shot twice. My husband was kidnapped. My in-laws drugged me. I lost my husband—” She moved to the edge of the chair, surprising him.

He looked down at her hands which were gripping the bamboo arms of her chair. Her knuckles were white.
Oh, fuck!
“Calm down, Beauty. I didn’t—”

“You started. Let me finish,” she said curtly. “And eleven men were killed because of my immaturity. And you know what? I wanted them all dead, but I was not courageous enough to demand it. It happened anyway.” Her voice had risen and she was off the chair, her knees slighty bent, looking him in the eyes. “And it didn’t bring Gabriel back. As a punishment, I had my daughter taken from me. By policemen, crying and screaming. I had to flee my own country in a very bad state of physical and mental health. I don’t know how I did it, but
I
did it. I started living under a pseudonym, hiding! In a new country. I’ll be forever grateful to Edward for helping me adjust again, and of course—”
to Ethan.

His face darkened as if he knew what she was going to say, but he had himself under control so quick she thought she had imagined it.

Ethan does not need to pop up here.
For an instant she lost her train of thought, but she quickly returned to it. “
But
,
of course
, all I ever did was go to Leibowitz Oil and return home. My life was nothing but work and Gabriela. I existed no more. I didn’t even go to my grandfather’s or Felipe’s wife’s burial. Felipe spent what seemed like an eternity in the hospital. And still I stayed in hiding. I only went to visit him during Carnival, when I was sure my in-laws were traveling abroad. I was afraid, frightened of stepping out of the boundaries I had set; of returning to Brazil and being discovered. We were taught that we had to be the best at what we did and not bow under difficulties.” She didn’t notice but she was almost shouting. “As long as I had time to be with Gabriela in the mornings and in the afternoons, as long as I got to put her to bed, I strained myself with business work and exercise. Until I was so, so very tired that I could hardly drag myself back to bed praying for sleep without nightmares or screams!”

Alistair Connor, what have you triggered?!
He chided himself, and without noticing his hands had covered hers, and he had leaned toward her. “Stop, Sophia. It’s okay, it’s all right.”

“So what if I have a few accomplishments? A few badges of honor for myself? Things that couldn’t be taken away from me so easily? Things that filled my broken heart and didn’t let me ask too often,
why me
? WHY ME?!” she shouted. She took a deep breath. “So, what if I tried to be perfect?! YES! The perfect daughter to honor my parents’ memories. The perfect granddaughter because my grannies lost what they held more precious in life. The perfect wife for Gabriel who treated me like a queen. And the perfect mother, because Gabriela was not responsible for anything wrong or bad that had happened to me. I had to be.” She leaned back, panting. “I
have
to be.”

“Calm down,” he shushed. He knelt before her, his warm hands rubbing her arms up and down and up again, settling in her feminine shoulders.

“Mine are normal reactions to abnormal events. Who told you I have a disorder?”

Tavish Uilleam suggested it. Maybe more for my sake than yours.
“No one. I was just trying to understand. I’m worried, Sophia.” Still not completely convinced, he cupped her face in his hands, the tip of his fingers massaging her temples and kissed her on the corner of her lips. “I don’t want you to be perfect. Perfect women are boring. Perfect wives are even more boring. You make mistakes and there is nothing wrong with that. Be imperfect.”

“Alistair Connor,” she sighed, tired of the discussion, “as each new trauma piled on top of old ones, they started to push me down again. To get out of... this hole is hard and painful. Sometimes, it feels as if… I’m digging myself out of a coffin with six feet of earth piled over it,” she finished with a whisper, laying her head in the hollow of his neck and shoulder.

“I know the feeling,” he said quietly as his arms went around her, and her breath softly fanned his skin.

“Why did we even start talking about PTSD? We’re on our honeymoon.” She breathed in his smell.
Sublime Alistair Connor.

“We were discussing your work schedule,” he explained. He could feel her puckering her straight nose against his neck and knew she was rolling her eyes at him.

“I’ll revise my schedule at LO but not at the Foundation. Don’t ask me to do more.”

Hmm.
He smiled at the ease with which she gave in after such an outburst to stand her ground. A cell phone in the living room had started ringing but he chose to ignore it. “We could do it together and I could make some suggestions—”

Not a chance.
The phone continued to ring. Grateful for the break, she informed him, “It’s yours.”

“Fuck. Can’t the bank leave me alone for a few hours?” he muttered and checked his watch. He frowned, worried.
It’s almost three o’clock in the morning in London.
“I’ll be right back.”

She gave him a wan smile. “I’ll be waiting.”

“You better,” he kissed the tip of her nose and went inside.

When he grabbed the phone, his brows came down as he saw Edward’s number on it. “MacCraig.”

“Is Sophia near you?” Edward wasted no time with greetings.

“Nae. Is—” He choked. A sudden panic made Alistair’s heart speed up. He couldn’t voice the words.

Edward understood the unspoken sentence. “Gabriela is all right. But you have to come back. I waited till now because I knew nothing could be done before. Yesterday, the Leibowitzes succeeded in guaranteeing a hearing at the high court. They have an order from the Brazilian Supreme Court to question Sophia about Gabriela’s welfare. In addition, they are requesting the right to visit her and have shared custody. This was probably what he was doing when Sophia saw him in the street a few months ago.”

Oh, fuck!
“Aye, I remember.”

“They are also claiming that Sophia abducted Gabriela before the custody case was judged. I already have all the best lawyers on it to delay the hearing but Sophia needs to come back. They have agreed to discuss a settlement, but only if it’s done today. How they know she is traveling and Gabriela is here with the twins, I don’t know!” Edward breathed harshly on the other side of the line. “Alberto is really pressing the case. They are asking for the right to take their granddaughter, as she is alone. And I’m not sure that Sophia can stop them. If you leave in the next hour, you’ll arrive just in time for her to talk and prepare Gabriela to receive them.”

Alistair looked at his watch. “We’ll be in London no later than one o’clock. Davidoff, schedule a meeting for one-thirty at LO. Try for an agreement, welcoming both today. Settle on a three-hour visit to start with. Hmm… Two-thirty. At Atwood House, so Gabriela can adapt. No outings yet, but leave the possibility open as a sign of good will.”
Sophia will never allow it.

“Don’t you think Sophia should have a say in the matter?”

Alistair could hear Edward’s surprise on the other side of the line. He had disliked Sophia’s father-in-law instantly, but had a better impression of his wife. “I’m sure Rose will be welcomed after the initial shock. Sophia will understand she has no other choice.”

“Well, yeah. I’ll do my best. An agreement will surprise their lawyers and keep them off her for a while.” Edward hesitated for a heartbeat. “MacCraig. Broach the subject with care. Alberto has made her life hell for a long time now.”

“Don’t worry. Draft the final agreement with a confidentiality clause. If they leak anything to the press, the deal is off.”

Edward let out an irritated whistle. “You demand a lot, MacCraig. The lawyers said we don’t have much room to maneuver.”

“I’ll be there with Leonard Allenthorp. We’ll get what we want.” He ended the call not entirely confident.
Shit.

He texted Muir to get the plane ready for them while they packed. He stepped onto the terrace trying to decide how to start telling her about Alberto, but Sophia wasn’t there anymore. “Sophia?”