Chapter 5 — The Door Left Open

The results arrived six days after the samples were taken.

Four men's envelopes lay on the dining table. I opened the one addressed to me first. I thought of Dr Rossi, whom I'd asked to send the results to no one but me.

"These are the copies sent to each of them," Father said.

"Andrea and Nicola have been ruled out."

"You've already read them?"

"Andrea explained the findings to me."

Andrea was staring at the bottom of his paper. Beside Matteo's and Luca's names, it said further confirmation required. My finger shook as I traced the space between the two names.

Andrea stood first.

"I should go back to the office. I still have the accounts to close."

"Already done. We've got your signature too."

At Father's words, Renato moved to block the door. Andrea seemed about to say something to me, but folded the envelope instead. Its edges didn't meet.

I thought of the signature I hadn't written and the message I hadn't sent. In this house, things were finished before the people concerned were allowed to speak.

"That makes things simpler, doesn't it?" Father asked.

I looked at the two names still on the page.

"I'll ask the doctor myself first."

He slid his phone towards me and said I was welcome to hear the explanation directly. I took out my own phone.

Upstairs, I contacted Dr Rossi. She replied that she would explain once she'd checked. There were no other notifications. I opened Ethan's number, then closed it.

He'd told me to call about his brother. But now his brother had been crossed out of the results I held.

It was some time before I heard Ethan downstairs. The negotiations over the suspended port deal were continuing. I put the envelope in a drawer and went down.

When the study door opened, Renato confirmed Ethan's next appointment. I waited at the foot of the stairs. Ethan slowed when he saw me.

"Something you want to say?"

"Not here."

He didn't glance back at the study. I opened the door to a small sitting room off the corridor. Even after he entered, I left it slightly ajar.

It was the room where I'd read as a child. Whenever Mother had been inside, someone had locked the door from the outside. I couldn't make myself release the handle.

Ethan noticed my hand.

"Leave it open."

"What if somebody sees?"

"If you'd rather not, I'll go."

When he started to turn, I caught his sleeve. His arm went still beneath the dark fabric.

"I was asking you not to leave."

He looked at my hand. I let go of his sleeve but didn't step away.

"Are you taking Andrea with you?"

"If he says he wants to leave."

"Saying that isn't enough in this house."

"Which is why I'm asking him directly."

His voice sounded closer. I started to check whether he'd shut the door, then lost my train of thought. Through the opening I could still see the corridor.

"I want to leave too."

I'd thought it would be easy to say that to somebody outside the family. But those words were harder than telling him Father had taken my passport.

"Do you want to go with my brother?"

I couldn't answer. It was the same question I'd never quite answered Andrea, even while we planned our escape.

Ethan studied my face.

"My brother wouldn't like that answer."

"Do I have to say only what would make him happy?"

"Then what are you asking of me?"

I looked at the buttons on his jacket. The hand that had caught his sleeve a moment earlier curled at my side. I couldn't bring myself to say that, if I left, I wanted this man beside me.

"Did you hear I was pregnant?"

His gaze stopped for a moment.

"Andrea told me. He didn't tell me the results."

"They say it isn't his. The results came this morning."

It sounded as though I were telling him he could go now. That wasn't what I'd meant, and my fingers tightened around the handle.

Ethan didn't move.

"Is that what you called me in here to say?"

I shook my head. If he'd said he was relieved the baby wasn't Andrea's, I could have told him to leave. But he didn't even glance at my stomach. He waited for me to speak again.

"Then you still have something to tell me."

He rested a hand on the edge of the door. Instead of covering my hand, he stopped beside it. I released the handle. With someone else holding the door, I could leave whenever I chose. This time I didn't look towards the corridor. While his hand held the door, mine was free.

"I don't want Father to know whom I trust."

"Do you trust me?"

"Not yet."

"Then why did you stop me leaving?"

I looked at him.

"I asked Andrea to help me get out of this house."

"I know."

"And now here I am doing this with you."

"Did you call me in because you feel guilty towards my brother?"

"If that were why, I wouldn't be looking at you right now."

The moment the words escaped, I wanted to look away. Ethan took his hand off the door. Thinking he was about to go, I nearly caught his sleeve again. But he stayed. He'd only turned his body a little more towards me.

When I raised my head to answer, his face was closer than I'd expected. His eyes rested briefly on my mouth. I realised I'd been watching his lips move when he spoke too.

There was a sound in the corridor. I didn't turn. Ethan didn't back away.

"Ms Bellone."

At his low voice, my fingers sought his sleeve again. He saw me take hold of it. This time I couldn't think of any reason to let go.

He leaned down slightly, and I lifted my chin. The gap narrowed until our lips were almost touching, yet neither of us moved first.

Then the door opened wider.

Matteo's eyes went straight to my hand gripping Ethan's sleeve.

"You should let go of that hand."

I turned to him without releasing the fabric.

Matteo spoke to Ethan.

"She's my fiancée."