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“Mama…”
“But I will try my best,” Claudia interrupted. “You’re right. You deserve to know. So I will tell you.”
Nerves clamored in her stomach, having an all-out war she wasn’t sure she’d survive. “Then tell me. Please.”
Her mother leveled her with a single look. “We separated. Long, long ago, when Vincenzo was about three. I had three boys keeping me busy, a husband who was never home and I was so young. Not much ol
der than you are now. I had no life beyond dirty diapers and screaming boys.”
“I thought you had a nanny.”
“Not then. Your father wanted me to be with the children. His mother did it, he told me. Raised six children with no help while his father steadily built the business. It was the least I could do.” Her mother shook her head. “His expectations were too high of me. I couldn’t take it any longer. I told him I wanted a divorce.”
Stasia’s mouth dropped open. “A divorce?”
“He denied me. Told me I was being too rash. He was much older, you see. Almost fifteen years were between us, and he knew best. Or at least, he thought so. He decided I needed some time for myself. He took the boys to his mother’s house—to this very house, as a matter of fact—because heaven knows she was more than capable of taking care of her grandsons, unlike me. He bought me a plane ticket to New York, told me to stay in our apartment there, and that was it.”
“So…what? You went to New York, sought out Michael Worth because you knew they didn’t like each other and decided to have some sort of revenge affair? Is that how it happened?” Disbelief coursed through Stasia. She’d had no idea her mother had wanted a divorce. That she had felt so pressured by raising her three sons, all born so close to each other. That she had felt so young and alone and unable to keep up.
“No, no. It was nothing like that. I was in the Fashion District. Your father had asked me to stop by and see the latest jewelry designs at the office there and when I left, I ran into him.”
“Ran into whom?”
“Michael Worth.” Claudia shrugged, her robe falling off her shoulder, and she yanked it back up. “He was very apologetic. I nearly fell and he grabbed me by the waist, steadying me. So charming and sweet, he flirted with me, treated me so kindly, and I fell immediately under his spell. He asked me out for a drink.”
“Did he recognize you?”
“Of course not. Your father didn’t parade me around, not back then. I was too busy having babies to be paraded around like the pretty little wife.” Her mother sounded disgusted.
“Oh, Mama. It sounds like a set-up.”
“It wasn’t. I’m sure it wasn’t. Next thing I knew, I was spending plenty of time with Michael. He was calling me. Taking me out for drinks in quiet little bars where no one would know him. Inviting me out to dinner, inviting me to his apartment.”
“Did you go?”
“At first, I refused him. He knew I was married. I told him that upfront, though I did say we were separated, which was true. It was as if your father disposed of me and forgot I existed. He didn’t want to deal with my complaining, my unhappiness, all my tears. He was too busy working to worry about me.” Tears formed in her eyes, and she rubbed them away. “Now I realize I had postpartum depression. All those babies, all so close to each other. It was too much.”
Stasia sat on the edge of the settee and reached out, resting her hand on top of her mother’s. Claudia turned her hand palm up, their fingers entwining, and she gave Stasia’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry, Mama.”
“It’s not your fault, child. Now let me continue.” Taking a deep breath, she began again. “I realized soon exactly who Michael Worth was. And it gave me a secret thrill, I’ll admit it. That I was spending time with a man whom your father despised. I must say I enjoyed his company. He was so carefree, so fun. I was completely taken with him.”
“And so you became pregnant with me.”
“It wasn’t as simple as all that, my darling. But yes, I became pregnant with you, though I didn’t know it. I started to realize I missed your father and your brothers. So terribly, I ached with it. I knew I was being incredibly selfish, so I called your father. And he begged me to come back.”
“You returned to him knowing you were pregnant with me.”
“I never knew. Never. I told Michael I needed to return to Italy and he understood. I finally told him who I was married to and he became a little angry over that, which didn’t surprise me. I reassured him I didn’t know who he was when we first met and he said he believed me. He may have cared for me, but I don’t think I was his one true love. That was his poor deceased wife, Charlotte.” A fond smile came over Claudia’s features. “He was lonely and I filled in the gaps. He told me more than once I made him feel young again. That touched me more than I could ever describe.”
Stasia lowered her head, stared at her clutched hands. “It wasn’t a grand love affair, then.”
“It was a simple, sweet love affair. One I didn’t regret. Until now.” Claudia sighed. “I never expected your father to do what he did.”
“How did he find out?”
“I always, always assumed you were his. I never once thought you might be Michael’s during my entire pregnancy. But then you were born and Giorgio wanted to name you after his mother. He wanted to call you Anna, that was the plan all along if you were a girl.” Claudia paused for a long, heavy moment. “I took one look at you and knew you didn’t belong to Giorgio. You didn’t look like the boys. Your eyes were blue. Your hair wasn’t as dark. And your features…they looked more like Michael’s, especially as you grew older.”
“How did you convince Father to name me Anastasia?” She never understood how the name became hers.
