When Catarina arrived at the house, Afonso was waiting for her by the garage. He smiled at her, and she grinned back like a child. It had barely been a whole day, and she’d missed him so much. His departure in late October would break her heart in little pieces. What was she going to do without Afonso in her life? She brushed the thought aside and focused on the man instead.
He came around the car and opened the door for her. “You’re home.”
Was that longing in his eyes? The intensity of his expression left Catarina breathless for a moment. Had he missed her too? They’d seen each other almost every day since he’d arrived at the house. Living in such close proximity had brought on a sort of intimacy she’d never expected when they met.
Before she had a chance to say no, Afonso lifted her in his arms. “What are you doing? I can walk.”
“I’m sure you can,” he said, “but you’re not going to say no, are you?” He winked at her and her face heated. He pressed her closer, and Catarina tightened her arms around his neck, pushing aside the guilt for enjoying it too much.
Luciana ran ahead to open the door. “She certainly will not be saying no.”
Afonso carried her all the way to her bedroom and set her gently on the bed. “The guys and I are going to Castelo Branco. Will you girls be okay?”
Luciana stood by the door, holding it open. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll take good care of her.”
“I’m sure you will.” He turned to Catarina. “Call me if you need anything.”
After he left, Luciana sat at the foot of the bed. “There goes a guy who has eyes only for you.”
Catarina sat back. “I’m needy enough to believe you and pretend it’s true.”
Luciana chuckled. “Of course it’s true. Have you seen the way he looks at you? How long have you lived together?”
Catarina spurted. “We are not living together. We’re just living in the same house.” She widened her arms. “This mansion. Afonso works outside every day. That’s what Filipe hired him for. To be the groundskeeper. And besides, he’s in the east wing and I’m in the west.”
“Does that mean he’s the beauty and you’re the beast?” Luciana laughed at her own joke.
Catarina crossed her legs. “That’s how I feel sometimes.” Who would ever learn to love her with the past she had and such an uncertain future?
Luciana leaned forward and rubbed Catarina’s hand. “Of course you’re not the beast. I’m sorry for my lame joke. Can I ask what’s going on between you and Afonso?” Luciana pulled a pillow onto her lap. “How does he feel about you being pregnant? And about your husband?”
Catarina sat back and sighed. “He only found out yesterday that I’m pregnant. We talked a little, but I haven’t told him everything about Juan-Carlos.” Catarina took a breath. “It’s hard to talk about it. I should never have married Juan-Carlos.”
“I’m sorry,” said Luciana.
“To answer your question, I don’t know what’s going on between me and Afonso. We had a rocky start. I judged him too harshly in the beginning.” She’d take back her behavior if she could. “He’s so kind and patient with me.”
“I saw it. He even carried you up the stairs.” Luciana reached for a cheese slice. “He definitely seems to have feelings for you. Do you know if he’s hung up on someone from his past?”
“I don’t think so, but this Anabela woman has been hard for him to deal with.” Catarina said.
“Is this the same Anabela that Matias mentioned?” Luciana asked.
“Yes. She was the cruise director and Afonso was the pianist on the ship Matias captains.”
“Afonso was a pianist? I thought he does grounds keeping.”
“That’s what Filipe hired him to do here, but on the Princess Catarina he played the piano. He even played in professional circuits in other European countries.”
Luciana reached for the tablet in her purse. “What’s his last name?”
“Cortez. Afonso Cortez,” Catarina replied. He had an uncommon name and it suited him.
“Wow, look at this. He’s got his own website.” Luciana sat next to Catarina.
Catarina leaned over the tablet, unable to hide her curiosity. It was all there—his full name, birth date, where he was born.
Luciana snorted. “His middle name is Henrique? What was his mother thinking?”
“Maybe she’s a royalist,” Catarina said.
“She must be, to name him after the first king of Portugal.” Luciana clicked on a YouTube link, and they watched him perform in a concert hall.
Catarina had heard him play in the music room, on an eighty-year old piano that had only been tuned recently. Watching Afonso play on a Steinway accompanied by an orchestra was a completely different experience.
“He’s amazing,” Luciana said in a reverent tone. Catarina wasn’t the only one in awe of his talent.
The page also included his academic achievements, awards, and the highlights of his musical career, with all the cities he’d played in.
“Why did he stop playing?” Luciana asked.
“I think it had something to do with him being in jail,” Catarina said.
“It says here he played in Barcelona.” Luciana pointed at text on the screen. “Didn’t you live in Spain with your husband?”
“We split our time between Barcelona and Lisbon.” Juan-Carlos had never been content in one place.
“Did you go to classical concerts?” Luciana glanced up at Catarina as she scrolled through more pages.
“We did sometimes.” Mostly as an opportunity for Juan-Carlos to show off and be seen.
Luciana looked up. “You could have met Afonso then.”
Catarina scooted against the headboard, backing away. “I guess that’s a possibility, but I think I would have remembered.”
Luciana typed on the screen. “What was your husband’s name?”
“Juan-Carlos de Aragón y Vega.”
Luciana kept busy for a few minutes. Then she gasped. “You gotta see this, Catarina.”
Catarina leaned forward and took the tablet Luciana handed to her. Her eyes locked on the group picture on the screen: Afonso stood in the center, his hair slicked back, his face smooth, wearing a black tuxedo with tails, and a big smile on his face; to his right, the maestro of the symphony and the mayor of Barcelona; to Afonso’s left, Juan-Carlos in his dark gray tuxedo and Catarina in a bright red ball gown. The caption read in Spanish: Afonso Cortez, Portuguese pianist of acclaimed fame, with Mayor Santiago Iriarte, maestro Jean-Claude Rémy, and patron of the arts Barcelonian Juan-Carlos de Aragón y Vega, with his charming wife Dulce.
“Is that you?” Luciana asked.
Catarina nodded.
“Why does it say Dulce?”
“That was the name he gave me when we met, and he wanted me to change it when we married, so I did.”
“Wow, Catarina, I barely recognized you,” said Luciana.
Catarina hardly recognized the young woman staring back at her, a subdued smile on her red lips. The blonde highlights in her hair covered her natural brown color, and her expertly applied makeup gave her the plastic-perfect look Juan-Carlos always preferred. It used to take her an hour to put that face on, the face she used to hide behind.
Juan-Carlos, as always, had the confident smile of a man who always got what he wanted.
“Oh my goodness,” Catarina whispered, raising her fingers to cover her tremulous lips. “Afonso asked me if we’d met before.”
“When did he ask you that?”
“The day after we met, here at the house. He said I looked familiar, and I thought he was giving me a bad pickup line.” She blinked, willing away the tears clouding her eyes. “I don’t even remember meeting Afonso. Juan-Carlos dragged me with him to everything he attended, always staging photo ops. I was only his arm candy.”
Luciana gave her a side hug. “The picture has a date of four years ago.”
Catarina wiped a tear. “That sounds about right. I’d found out he’d had another affair, and he’d come home with apologies and gifts, as he always did. Then we’d be on display for the next month, so everyone could see how well things were between us.” She handed the tablet to Luciana and buried her face in a pillow with a groan. “My life was so messed up. I was so messed up that I met Afonso and I don’t even remember.”
“I’m sorry you went through so much with your husband. Why didn’t you reach out to your family? Or to me or Filipe?” Luciana asked softly.
Catarina shook her head. “How could I? Do you remember how I practically ran away from home to go to Spain? I told my parents I didn’t need anyone anymore. Tiago tried so hard to reason with me, and the twins just looked at me like I was a stranger.” She’d dismissed her parents and her brothers, the oldest and the two younger ones alike. “By the time I realized the kind of man Juan-Carlos was, I couldn’t face anyone, and I certainly didn’t have the humility to ask for help.”
Luciana handed her a tissue, and Catarina wiped her tears. “I’d barely finished high school, and he was so charismatic and experienced. I felt like I’d won the lottery when he asked me to marry him and we eloped to Mallorca. He lived a lavish life, and he brought me right into it. Apartment in Lisbon, family home in Barcelona, weekends in Mallorca and Saint-Tropez. Servants, chauffeurs, personal chefs. Anything you can think of, we had it. The first few months were a whirlwind.” She could still remember the dizzying lifestyle. “The beginning of the problems started creeping up around our first anniversary and by the second one, I knew he had lovers.” Catarina never knew how many there had been; that was something she’d never wanted to know. “Last year, I started suspecting he was in financial trouble, but he wouldn’t say anything about it. On the night he died, the embezzlement was exposed in the media, and the police were on their way to apprehend him when he tried to get away. He lost control of his car and crashed.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Luciana said in a low voice. “How did you come to stay here?”
“Filipe ran in the same circles, and we’d see each other at parties some times. There was a big scandal after Juan-Carlos’ death. Pictures of him and his lover at the woman’s apartment that night, and of him fleeing the police. The paparazzi camped outside our home. Because of the embezzlement, all the assets were frozen, and I had nothing. When Filipe came for me, I got away with a suitcase full of clothes and some personal items.” She sighed and cradled her belly. “And then I found out I was pregnant.”
“What are you going to do, Catarina?” Luciana asked.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “All I know is I’m going to have this baby. That’s the only sure thing I know.”
“What about Afonso?”
“With all his mistakes, Afonso is a much better person than I am. You know what I did when he told me he’d been in prison?” Luciana shook her head. “I yelled at him.” Definitely something she wasn’t proud of.
Slowly, Catarina stretched her legs, rose from the bed, and made her way to the window. She gestured outside. “He made that swing for me.”
Luciana rushed from the bed and stood beside Catarina. “He made it?”
“From scratch. From chestnut wood he found on the property.”
“Is there anything he can’t do?” Luciana went back to the small table where Dona Madalena had put down a tray of snacks earlier in the day. “Tell me he’s not a good kisser, or I’ll be really jealous.”
Catarina sat against the headboard with a smile on her lips. “Sorry, prima, but he can kiss.” Oh, how he kissed.
“Have you two had a chance to lay everything out?” Luciana asked.
Catarina shook her head. “I don’t have the courage. He’ll be done with the contract before my due date, so he might not be here when I have the baby.”
“He won’t do that,” Luciana said.
“I guess I have two months to figure it out,.” Catarina said, half-heartedly.
Until then, she had other relationships to mend. She picked up her phone. “I think it’s time I talk to my mom.”
Luciana’s expression softened. “I’m here for you.”
* * *
Afonso leaned against the linden tree. He’d replaced the rope on the swing, and it rocked gently in the evening breeze, the seat empty. Catarina wouldn’t be coming for a few days. Going up and down the stairs took too much energy, and she needed the rest.
And he needed the time to think.
With the preoccupation that came with Catarina’s accident and her cousins who arrived after it, Afonso had been focused on making sure everything went well. He’d purposefully pushed his reaction to Catarina’s pregnancy to the back of his mind, not wanting to deal with it until he had some time alone. Here he was now, unable to cling to the excuse of busyness anymore.
The discovery had taken him by surprise. But he’d been honest with her—he wasn’t angry that she was having a baby. Although he understood why she’d kept it a secret, he couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that she hadn’t trusted him. How many other secrets was she keeping from him? Keeping secrets never led to anything good, and he didn’t want to make the same mistakes. Was he ready to share his heart with someone who didn’t open hers to him?
Afonso reached for a leaf on a low branch. Soon the leaves would lose their green. The long days of summer were nearly gone, and the nip in the air foreshadowed the upcoming change of seasons. Even the sunset was shorter today, as if in a hurry to let the night come earlier. Already Afonso missed all the evenings he and Catarina had spent under this tree, talking and watching the colors linger in long stretches over the village of Sete Fontes.
Matias and Filipe had left on Sunday after breakfast. Luciana had stayed Monday and Tuesday and had returned to Lisbon today after breakfast, with lots of promises of a quick return.
The manor sounded empty with all of them gone. It was back to Afonso and Catarina with the Silvas during the week. Just like before, yet nothing was the same anymore.
He’d come to Sunset Manor thinking he’d be safe to rebuild his new life, and his past mistakes had followed him here. Even with the security cameras recording from strategic locations, and the daily patrols he and Senhor Francisco did, safety was elusive and no more than wishful thinking. How was he going to protect Catarina and her baby? Anabela was unstable. Whatever drove her actions was beyond the common sense and reason of a normal person. Who could even begin to guess what else she had planned?
The frustration mounted inside him. If only there was more he could do to anticipate Anabela’s next move. As the sun dipped behind the far valleys, Afonso walked to the front door and entered the manor, then turned the lock and set the alarm.
A chink of light peeked from under the door to the music room. When he opened the door, he found the new floor lamp set to the lowest brightness. Catarina had bought it the week before, and he liked how it added to the sense of coziness by the upholstered chairs. Afonso crossed the room to switch if off.
“Boa noite,” a voice said from the chair.
Afonso startled. “Catarina, what are you doing here?” The back of the upholstered chair had hidden her from his view.
“It’s too early to sleep, and I’m really bored of resting. The silence upstairs is getting to me.” She had her legs up and crisscrossed on the seat, and two large pillows behind her back, one on each corner. With the roundness of her belly in the way, he marveled she could sit comfortably in that position. Now that he knew she was pregnant, it was almost absurd that he’d never noticed it before. She wore the pink kimono, and the corner of his mouth rose in a closed smile.
Afonso took the other chair. “It’s too quiet with your cousins all gone, isn’t it?”
She let out a long sigh and nodded. “I kind of miss them.” Her eyes rose to him. “Thank you for calling them.”
“So you’re not mad I did?” He’d worried about her reaction, but he’d wanted her to have the support of her family in such a time of need.
Catarina shook her head. “I’d forgotten how much fun Luciana and I used to have together.”
His own childhood summers had been full of fun with cousins. He didn’t have half as many as Catarina did, but he wished he could have the simplicity of those days. Like her, he’d lost contact with his extended family in the past few years, and he hadn’t seen his parents and siblings since last summer. Maybe it was time he reached out.
She bit her lip. “I called my mom when I got home from the hospital.”
Afonso leaned forward. “How did it go?”
“It was hard at first. I was afraid of her reaction. But she was just so happy to talk to me. We talked for two hours.” Her lips rose in a smile. “We cried a lot, laughed a lot too. She wanted to come see me, but she broke a leg last month and doesn’t have the clearance to travel yet. Then on Sunday Luciana set up a Skype call with my dad and brothers.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Tiago is the oldest. He’s Filipe’s age. The twins, Daniel and André, are five years younger than me.”
“I’m glad you talked to them.” Would Afonso ever get the chance to meet her parents and brothers?
She nodded. “Luciana and Mãe said they’re throwing me a baby shower next month, and they’ll bring the rest of the cousins and my Avó Teresa.”
That answered his question. He’d be meeting her mother and grandmother, and more cousins. “That sounds like a lot of fun.” Her unmasked joy lightened her expression as she talked about her family, and Afonso wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. He leaned back in his chair and pushed the feeling away.
Catarina watched him curiously. Was she able to see through his feelings? He stood and put some distance between them. “Can I get you anything before we go to bed?”
Her eyebrow raised, and his neck heated at the blunder. “I mean, you go to bed in your bedroom and I go to bed in mine. I didn’t mean we go to bed. Each bed. Separately.” The more he tried to fix it, the worse it sounded.
Catarina chuckled.
“Will you let me know if you need anything?”
She straightened her legs and shuffled in her seat. “Yes. There’s something I’d like you to do.” Her hand rubbed her belly in slow motion. “Will you play something, please?”
Afonso made his way to the piano bench and sat down. “Any requests?”
She wiggled in the chair and rearranged the pillows as she got comfortable. “Maybe something soft and airy to calm her down.”
“Her? Did you find out it’s a girl?”
“I guess I’m hoping for a girl,” she said with a small shrug.
Afonso touched his fingers to the keys with the first soft movements of a Chopin sonata. “A bedtime lullaby,” he said over the music. The whispering of the melody crescendoed timidly, full yet delicate, and when the first sonata was done, he transitioned seamlessly to a ballad.
Catarina closed her eyes and leaned back. An expression of contentment took over her features, and her right hand came to rest on top of her belly.
He kept playing, warmth and contentment spreading through his body as he watched Catarina so relaxed. He wanted more moments like this, moments spent together at the end of the day.
After a few minutes, when she started nodding over her shoulder, Afonso wrapped up the last few notes and stood to nudge her. “Let’s get you upstairs, mamã.”
Her eyes opened, heavy with sleep, and she stretched, yawning. “I guess I am the mommy, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are.” With a steady grip, he supported her up the stairs and down the hallway to the west wing.
When they arrived at her suite, Afonso switched on the light.
Catarina watched him for a moment, then stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek. As he walked to his bedroom, he took a breath.
It didn’t feel right to be apart from her.