“Father,” she nodded warily as she

“Father,” she nodded warily as she watched the large, handsome man whose affection and approval she had craved her entire life enter the room.
“Theresa, you look none the worse for wear,” he observed in the cold, distant voice he always used on her and she immediately went back to that insecure little girl who had never understood why her daddy didn’t hug her and didn’t want to spend time with her.
“Have you seen my daughter yet?” She asked, her voice strong and sure. Not betraying the little girl who still lurked somewhere inside.
“Not yet, no…” he seemed uncertain. Seeing the new strength in her and not sure what to make of it.
“It’s funny…” she suddenly observed. “What having a baby does to you, you would go out of your way to protect that new life from anybody who would threaten its happiness. I won’t allow you to hurt my baby the way you hurt me. I don’t want you in her life… not unless you’re prepared to love her in the way you were unable to love me: wholeheartedly and unconditionally.” As if on cue a nurse brought a fretting, pink-wrapped bundle into the room. She paused for a moment, sensing the tension in the room… before pasting a bright smile onto her lips and bringing the baby over to Theresa.
“I think that it’s past time this little one meets her mother properly,” Theresa’s entire face lit up and her heart filled with overwhelming love as the nurse placed the beautiful infant into her arms. She finally took inventory… counting fingers and toes, stroking downy black hair, and velvety skin. She even enjoyed it when the little one opened her rosebud of a mouth and started to wail angrily.
“Hello there sweetheart,” she whispered. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” The nurse brusquely proceeded to give her a crash course in breast-feeding, ignoring the way Theresa’s face flamed when the older woman started talking about breast pumps and let-down reflexes. Her father shifted uncomfortably while Sandro sat down at her bedside, a mixture of smug amusement, overwhelming pride and bewildered love on his face. She had never seen him look more vulnerable, or more protective… he sent a glare of warning her father’s way, before his unsettling gaze shifted back to her. Theresa, in the meantime, was struggling to conceal her milk-swollen breast from them after the nurse unceremoniously yanked the bodice of her nightgown down. The woman obviously thought that Theresa had nothing to be embarrassed about in front of husband and father. She fumbled with a towel but it was Sandro who reached across and draped it over her shoulder to cover her breast and the baby’s head. The baby finally found her nipple and latched on with enough force to make her wince. He concealed her from her father but kept the towel up on his side so that he could watch, ignoring her flustered glare.
“She’s got a pretty healthy appetite, doesn’t she?” He muttered in fascination, his voice alive with adoration. “Does that hurt?” Theresa shook her head slightly in response and snuck a glance up at her father who was unused to being so completely ignored and clearly did not it.
“Jackson, we’ll discuss the details of the broken contract at a later date. You can have back the vineyard and you’re more than welcome to keep the damned money but your daughter’s mine, as is the beautiful baby she’s given me. Sue me for breach of contract if you must.”
“I don’t want that useless piece of land back, we could renegotiate the terms…” her father sounded almost desperate and Theresa suddenly lost patience with both men.
“Stop talking about me like I’m an expensive piece of meat,” she seethed. “Take your sordid business elsewhere. I want it nowhere near my baby. Father, I’ve given you my conditions.”
“You’re so brave now, aren’t you?” Her father sneered. “But if push came to shove, I wonder how strong you’d be?”
“I’m stronger than you’ll ever know, father,” she smiled serenely. “Years of constant rejection from the people you love can leave you with pretty tough skin. You can’t hurt me anymore. I don’t want nor need your version love. I find that I no longer want nor need you in my life…”
“Yes, so brave now that you have your loving husband’s support,” The man’s words were laced with bitterness. “But while he may love your baby, Theresa, he’ll never love you. He has Francesca Delvecchio and, yes, he’s Italian enough to want that baby of yours so it’s just a matter of time before he finds a way to get her away from you…” Theresa blinked, her sudden fear showing, as her father presented a scenario she had never once considered. She couldn’t prevent herself from glancing over at Sandro, whose face was dark with fury and his entire body coiled with tension, he looked like he was about to tear her father’s throat out.
“I think it’s time you left, father,” she whispered painfully and her father sneered one last time before he pivoted on his heel and strode from the room.
“Don’t you dare believe what he just said, Theresa,” Sandro whispered rawly, focusing his glare on her. “Don’t you bloody dare!”
“I know you love her, Sandro…” she whispered. Not sure if she meant the baby or Francesca and she could tell by the look of uncertainty on his face that he wasn’t sure who she meant either and so was at a loss as to how to respond. “Would you try to take her from me?”
“No!” He practically shouted and the baby started. Theresa soothed her with slight rocking motions until she started suckling again. He reined in his temper and gentled his voice with visible effort. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I’d never hurt you like that.”
“But you want her…” again the ambiguity and his frown deepened.
“If you mean the baby, then yes of course I want her. But it’s a package deal for me, I want both of you. You’re my family. I don’t want a life separate from yours. I want our life. The one we’ve been building together these last few months.”
“What do you mean? All we ever talked about was divorcing…” she asked in confusion.
“I’m referring to all those nights together… the movies, the games, the conversations… what the hell was that if not relationship-building? We know we’re great in bed together. But we’d never really tried all the other stuff that couples do. The last few of months, we did do those things. We may have done things a little backward, cara but that doesn’t mean that we can’t have a solid marriage like Rick and Lisa’s. The only one of us who’d ever mentioned divorce was you. I don’t bloody want a divorce. I want us. Together.”
“I think…”she whispered so softly he could barely hear her and had to lean in closer to make out her words. “I think that you’re a wonderful man, Sandro. A decent man and because of that… I know that you’d do anything to make things right. You’d make any sacrifice to give Lily and me a normal life. But I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you keep forfeiting the things you want just because you think it’s the right thing to do.”
“This again,” he muttered impatiently. “I went from demon to saint in pretty short order, didn’t I? I want you to listen to me very, very carefully Theresa because I won’t be saying this again. I’m not a saint. I’m being very selfish when I say that I want you and our baby with me and when I say that I want us to be a family. I have duties back in Italy, people I love and need to take care of but right now I don’t give a damn about any of that right now because I want to spend my every waking moment with you and this baby. This life I’ve built with you, it’s the only one that matters to me anymore. So please stop telling me what I really want and try listening to me for a change.” Theresa stared up at him uncertainly. Dare she believe that he meant this? That it wasn’t just a really good act? She cleared her throat, trying to formulate a response but he leaned over and kissed her gently, stilling the words.