Page 87 of Thiago
“Of course, but there has to be balance. How many more women like India will you lose because you can’t loosen the reins a little?”
Thiago swallowed. He didn’t want anyone else. He wanted India. He wanted the woman who wasn’t afraid to glare at him when he pissed her off or smile at him with those sexy lips and warm brown eyes and make him believe that walking through life alone was a mistake. He wanted the woman who had made him understand that the reason he had prioritized work and hadn’t settled with anyone else was because he’d been waiting for her.
“How do you feel now that you’ve lost her?” his father asked.
Thiago buried his head in his hands. “I can’t breathe. My chest hurts. I miss her so much. I feel as if… as if…”
“As if you’re missing a limb?” Benicio supplied.
Thiago lifted his head. “Yes. Tell me it gets easier.”
Benicio shrugged. “It gets easier, but the emptiness never goes away. Some days will be worse than others, but you’ll always feel as if you’re missing a limb.”
“I wish you had lied to me.”
Benicio smiled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you love her?” he asked gently.
“Love is too tame a word,” Thiago admitted huskily.
His obsessive need to hold onto her and keep her for himself had been love all along. He’d simply been too blind to see.
“Then go get her.”
“I doubt she’ll want me.”
In the past week, he’d picked up the phone no fewer than a dozen times to call India. Each time, he had placed it back on the table. He had never considered himself a coward, but deep down, fear of rejection kept him from dialing her number.
“That’s a chance you’ll have to take, isn’t it, son? For once, you’ll have to humble yourself. Pride caused me to lose your stepmother. Pride made Valentina almost lose everything instead of facing the truth about Marco. Pride, son, is a terrible crutch to lean on, and do you know what it leaves behind? Regret. Let me tell you, regret is the heaviest load a man can carry. It doesn’t just crush you. It gnaws at you, following you into every room and whispering in your ear at night when you’re lying in bed,alone. It’s impossible to live comfortably with regret.”
Long after his father was gone, his warning echoed in Thiago’s head and inspired him to act. He was a fighter, and he was not going to lose India for good—not to pride, not to fear... not to anything.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Her heart was racing.
India sat in her car, parked across the street from a little red brick house. She double-checked the address on her phone to make sure she was in the right place, though her GPS had brought her there.
8255 Treetop Lane. The home of Karl Monroe.
She probably wouldn’t have ever come here if she were still working, but she had a lot of time on her hands nowadays, so she’d looked into finding her father instead of crying. She’d never been one to cry much and had spent the past week making up for it. The first few days after the argument with Thiago had been bad, but when her personal effects from work showed up in a box, another bout of sobbing had commenced. At this point, she had cried enough to last ten lifetimes.
She stepped out of her car and smoothed a hand down her dark slacks and straightened the bow at the neckline of her blouse. She had dressed up a little, wanting to impress her father, but did her appearance matter if he didn’t want anything to do with her?
“You’re here. If it doesn’t work out, at least you can say you tried,” India said, giving herself a pep talk.
She looked both ways and then walked across the residential street. She climbed the stairs to the front porch and rang the doorbell.
She nervously waited until the door creaked open. A heavyset woman wearing a floral print muumuu peered at her through the storm door.
“Yes?”
India licked her suddenly dry lips.
“Is Karl here?”
“No, he’s not, baby. He’s at the store…” The woman’s voice trailed off as a frown took over her face. “Can I help you?”
She didn’t know who this woman was to her father and wasn’t sure how to respond. She glanced down the street, hoping he would appear so she wouldn’t have to have an awkward conversation with a complete stranger and explain she was Karl’s daughter—a daughter she probably knew nothing about.
