Marriage by Contract Part 3
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Sandra Steffen
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8
Chapter Eight
“Bethany tells me you’re being considered for a promotion of significant prestige.”
Tony Petrocelli found himself removing his hand from his pocket and standing up straighter before he nodded at the petite, middle-aged woman wearing a pastel-colored dress and a single strand of pearls. “I’m not so sure about the prestige, Mrs. Bower, but I am being considered for a promotion to head of obstetrics.”
“Every time you call me Mrs. Bower,” Beth’s mother admonished, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his arm, “you remind me of Winston’s mother, whom I called Mrs. Bower for the first five years of our acquaintance. Please, call me Katherine.”
Tony did a double take at her wink, then released a deep chuckle. The sound drew several family members’ gazes, as if they weren’t accustomed to sudden bursts of laughter during their family parties. Within seconds, Beth’s sister drew Katherine into conversation, and Beth’s father, Winston Bower III, and her brother-in-law, MacKenzie Nelson, returned to their lawyer talk on the other side of the room.
Beth had warned him that her family was a little stuffy. Stuffy, hell. They were bona fide snobs. And Katherine ranked at the top of the genteel heap. But she had a sense of humor, dry though it might be, and a haughtiness he wouldn’t have minded pitting against the queen of England, not to mention a smile that reminded him of his new wife.
Beth entered the room, a sterling silver tray containing fancy little sandwiches in her hands. She graciously offered one to Winston and Mac, smiling at something her father said. It was strange, but Tony sensed love between these family members, just not closeness.
They were a far cry from the Petrocellis, that was for sure. His family hadn’t been able to wait to meet their soon-to-be adopted son, Christopher. The Bowers had yet to see him. Beth had offered to wake him and bring him down, but Katherine had declined, saying that she couldn’t fathom disturbing a sleeping child. The Bowers were polite, well mannered and well-bred. Now that he’d met them, Tony understood where Beth had acquired her class. He also understood the reason she’d been running on nervous energy these past few days, trying to make everything perfect for tonight. As far as he was concerned, she’d nearly outdone herself. She’d served wine in fluted stemware and had stacked cubes of fine cheese and hors d’oeuvres on gleaming silver and sparkling crystal trays. He’d never seen her looking more elegant. Or nervous.
Candles flickered on the mantel, threading her auburn hair with gold and honey. A lamp behind her shone through the hem of her ivory-colored dress, delineating the curve of her knee and the edge of a lacy slip. These past few days, Tony had discovered that his wife had a passion for pretty underclothes. He had a passion for removing them.
It didn’t matter that this marriage started out as a contract, with Tony needing a wife to get a promotion, and Beth needing a husband to adopt Christopher. A connection neither expected was getting stronger, and no one knew where it would take them, but they were both enjoying the ride.
Beth glanced across the room, sending him a tremulous smile. For a moment, her innermost feelings played across her face, making him doubt that he was the only one who had sex on his mind. Desire roused inside him, and suddenly he thought of one way to chase away her nerves. Something told him the Bowers would look askance at him if he swung his new wife into his arms and carried her upstairs. But it would definitely liven things up.
Beth shook her head at Tony, doing her best to school her features into a mask of calm. Still, she felt warmed by the expression in his dark eyes, and flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the mid-September temperatures outside. Her family had been here for nearly two hours, and she was beginning to believe they might all make it through the evening without incident. She wasn’t surprised that everyone seemed taken with Tony. After all, he was a doctor, which was a fitting profession in their eyes. He was also an incredibly charming man.
“Beth?”
The absent way she said “Hmm?” earned her a smile from her sister.
“I’m sorry to break into your reverie, and I know Mother doesn’t think we should wake a sleeping child, but MacKenzie and I would like to be home before the children go to bed. And I’d really love to see the baby.”
Beth started to turn toward the doorway that led to the foyer, but was stopped by Janet’s quiet voice. “I know how much work planning an evening such as this requires, and here you’ve done it with a newborn baby in the house. You must be exhausted. May I bring him down?”
Beth nodded, and Janet walked away, the swish of her skirt as elegant as her demeanor. Janet was two years older than Beth. Their hair was a similar color, but Janet’s was smooth and manageable. She was pretty and bright and nice—the perfect Bower sister. In comparison, Beth had always felt second-rate, especially in their parents’ eyes. Her grades had never been perfect, her choice of careers a mystery to them, her divorce shameful. She hadn’t even been able to get something as simple and basic as motherhood right.
“Look, everyone. Isn’t he adorable?” Janet called softly, practically floating toward the center of the room with Christopher in her arms.
Beth smiled just as she did every time she caught a glimpse of that small bundle of joy. Christopher was sucking on his fist. Honestly, she couldn’t have felt more pride burgeoning inside her if he had been negotiating world peace. In that instant she realized that there was no wrong way to become a mother. It didn’t matter that her baby hadn’t grown beneath her heart. This special child had grown within it.
She glanced at her family and was pleased to see them smiling their approval.
“He’s a fine-looking boy.”
“He seems very alert.”
“He’s undoubtedly extremely bright.”
“Just look at all that dark hair.”
Tony wasn’t really surprised at the Bowers’ reactions to Christopher. If they hadn’t been decent people, Beth wouldn’t have turned out the way she had. She was standing next to her sister. Side by side, the family resemblance was unmistakable. Both of them had inherited their height and hair color from their father, and their poise and bone structure from their mother.
“Beth,” Janet said, “wouldn’t it be wonderful if his eyes turned blue like yours?”
“If his eyes are blue, they’ll be like Annie’s, not mine,” Beth said, accepting Christopher from Janet’s outstretched arms.
“Who’s Annie, my dear?” Winston Bower asked.
“She’s the young girl who gave birth to him.”
Tony had never heard a more simple statement change the atmosphere in a room so suddenly and completely. The Bowers were far too polite to gasp, but they did share collective deep breaths and furtive glances.
“You’ve actually met the birth mother?” Katherine asked.
At Beth’s nod, her father said, “Do you think that’s wise?”
“It would have been difficult to deliver Christopher if Annie hadn’t been present, Father.”
“You delivered that baby?” Winston asked.
Beth’s gaze darted around the room. She didn’t like where the conversation was headed but wasn’t certain how to curtail it. “Annie did the hard part,” she said quietly. “All Tony and I had to do was…”
Having never had a stomach for even the most innocuous scratches and contusions, Katherine held up a delicate hand and gave her head a firm shake. “Bethany, please, you know how I react to the mere thought of…”
“Hors d’oeuvres, anyone?”
All eyes turned to Janet, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere holding a silver tray containing little cucumber sandwiches and stuffed mushrooms. “Do try the mushrooms, Mother. Beth made them, and they’re delicious.”
Katherine and Winston both relaxed, accepting one of each. The topic was changed and the moment was saved. Janet smiled demurely at everyone she passed. Beth smiled in return, thinking there was something to be said for having a sister who was perfect in every way.
* * *
“Well?” Beth asked, moving Christopher to her shoulder for a burp. “Were they what you expected?”
“I liked them.”
The rocking chair they’d received from Tony’s grandmother creaked slightly, and Beth’s hand thudded quietly as she patted the baby’s narrow back. Christopher had finished his formula and was sleeping soundly, which meant the last burp wasn’t going to be easy to draw out. Since she’d learned the hard way what happened if she laid him down before he’d released it, she continued to pat his back.
“No, really,” she said to Tony, who was lounging in the doorway on the other side of Christopher’s narrow room. “You don’t have to spare my feelings.”
“I’m not sparing anything. I think they’re very pompous but nice in an upper-crust kind of way. They seem to have accepted your marriage and the fact that they weren’t invited to the wedding with a certain degree of diplomacy. Now I know where all that poise of yours comes from.”
“That,” she said quietly, “was one thing I got right.”
Christopher released a sound that was bigger than he was, eliciting a smile from both Beth and Tony. Staying where he was in the doorway, Tony said, “Oh, I think you’ve gotten a lot more right than poise.”
The baby sighed in his sleep. Kissing his smooth, soft cheek, Beth was filled with maternal love for the child in her arms, and with longing for the man watching them from the doorway. Tony had removed his tie as soon as everyone left and unbuttoned his shirt some time later. His dress slacks were slung low on his hips, his chest and feet as naked as the longing in his eyes.
Wondering if Christopher could feel her heart rate accelerate, she rose from the chair and slowly lowered him into his crib. “They took the news quite well, considering,” she said, referring to her family’s reaction to her sudden marriage and decision to adopt Christopher. “And they all seemed to like you. Even my mother.”
“What’s not to like?”
She rolled her eyes before covering the baby with a lightweight blanket. “Janet told me I’d made a wise choice. Coming from her, that was high praise. Janet is the perfect daughter, you see, and I’m her somewhat-less-than-perfect younger sister.”
“Families are complicated. God knows, mine is. I get the feeling your mother would have preferred you to choose some nice, safe career, if you had to have a career at all. Her remarks tonight were intended to remind you of your place and social standing, and hold you there. That isn’t where you want to be.”
Beth straightened and slowly turned. Smiling, she whispered, “Thank you for the recap.”
“Anytime.”
Tony pushed himself from the door frame and ambled into the room with the easy grace of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Beth’s eyes closed dreamily, because what he wanted was her, and being wanted by Tony Petrocelli was a very heady sensation.
Yesterday had marked the one-week anniversary of their wedding. They’d gotten off to a slow start, so to speak, but they’d made up for lost time these past few days. Sometimes their lovemaking had been as long and languid as a summer afternoon. Other times they came together like two people sharing an illicit stolen moment. Those times, their lovemaking was frenzied, their desire catching fire like a match on dry tinder. Tonight, the passion in Tony’s eyes told her he had plans for the two of them, slow, languorous plans he would share with her as soon as he was good and ready.
“What?” he asked, moving around her in a slow circle, noting the amused look on her face.
Turning only her head, she said, “I was just thinking that you were probably a difficult child.”
“This from the daughter who defied her parents at every turn?”
“I only defied my parents at every other turn.”
He’d circled behind her and was coming around to her right side. “What did your father and brother-in-law say to you when they cornered you just before they left?”
“Mac and my father?” she asked dazedly. “Oh, they wanted to know if we’d signed a prenuptial agreement.”
“I’m not after your family’s money, Beth.”
“What are you after?”
His gaze dropped below her shoulders and took a long time returning to her eyes. Cocking her head playfully, she smiled. “Allow me to rephrase that question. What else are you after?”
Tony groaned softly. “What makes you think I’m after anything else?”
“Do you mean sex is all you expect from this marriage?”
“I’m sorry I brought the subject up.”
Something in his tone alerted her to an underlying problem. She’d wanted to talk to him about this before the wedding, to pin him down, to force him to tell her exactly what he wanted from their marriage, and how long he expected it to last. Now that they’d broached the subject, she didn’t want to ignore it. “I think we should discuss this, Tony.”
“No.”
Their gazes met, held.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Come on, Beth. You don’t really want to talk right now, do you?”
She swallowed her apprehension and said, “This could be for your own protection.”
He was shaking his head before she’d finished. “Protect me from what? Your family has a lot more money than mine. And it’s not as if you’re going to divorce me and hit me up for child support for a half-dozen kids.”
They both went still, the light from Christopher’s night-light stretching their shadows all the way into the hall. Beth was the first to find her voice. “You don’t need protection because I can’t have children, is that it?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it? Barry left me because I couldn’t give him children. You can’t tell me it doesn’t bother you.”
“I married you, anyway, didn’t I?”
Beth took a step back as if she’d been slapped, and Tony drew in a loud breath. She remembered when he’d told her he didn’t want charity or a virgin sacrifice. Raising her chin in a manner she’d learned from her mother, she quietly said, “Who’s offering charity now, Tony?”
Tony started to swear. Realizing they were still standing in the middle of Christopher’s room, he clamped his mouth shut and whispered, “Beth, this isn’t coming out the way I intended. You caught me off guard, that’s all. What I’m giving you isn’t charity, not by a long shot.”
“What do you want in return?” she asked quietly.
Beth didn’t know what she saw in his eyes this time, but it was more than attraction and seduction. There was anger, and worry, and maybe a hint of sadness, and something else that scared her more than all the others combined, because it looked a lot like remorse. “I’ve already suffered one broken heart, Tony, and I’d really prefer not to experience it again.”
“I have no intention of breaking anybody’s heart, dammit.”
“But?” she asked.
He didn’t say anything. And neither did she. They stood perfectly still, staring at each other. She finally nodded, but nothing had really been settled. Neither of them seemed to know what to do to make things better.
“Look,” she whispered, “we’re both tired and overwrought.”
“Yes,” he said, jumping at the excuse so quickly it heightened her concerns. “We’re probably not thinking clearly. Let’s get some sleep. Everything will look a lot better in the morning.”
Beth thought about how many times she’d told a patient that very thing, and wondered if they felt as suspicious of it as she did right now.
She and Tony used separate bathrooms, then crawled into the same bed. He kissed her good-night, and then they turned onto their sides, facing opposite directions. Her body relaxed eventually, but her mind was more difficult to put to sleep. She reminded herself that she’d put in a grueling two days preparing the house and food for her family’s visit. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe they weren’t thinking clearly. Maybe the fact that he couldn’t talk about her infertility didn’t mean that he’d never accept it. Maybe bringing it up tonight hadn’t put an irreparable rift in their fragile relationship.
Maybe everything really would look better in the morning.
* * *
Morning didn’t bring any magical revelations or miracle cures to their dilemma. Tony woke up to his alarm and groggily got out of bed while Beth went to feed the baby. They came face-to-face in the hall, giving each other a wide berth as if by unspoken, mutual agreement.
Christopher had awakened every two-and-a-half hours throughout the night. Each time she’d fed and changed him, she thought about what would have happened if Tony hadn’t agreed to marry her, thereby giving this beautiful little boy a two-parent home, and her the opportunity to be his mother. Lord, how she wished she’d left the skeleton of her infertility in the closet. But each time she’d crawled back into bed, she was more convinced that she and Tony had to talk about this, to make peace with it, so they’d know where to go from here.
She’d believed Tony when he’d said he wanted to be a father to Christopher. He wasn’t going to divorce her before the adoption was final. But what about later? Could they build a real marriage on the legality of their union? Or would he always wish things could have been different? With another woman, they could be. Barry had certainly proved that. Her first husband had hurt her in nearly every emotional way, making her feel guilty for something that she had no control over. Barry had once said that it was her body that wasn’t functioning properly. It was her body that prohibited conception. And on a subliminal level, in some perverse way that wasn’t fair, Barry had believed that that made it her fault.
She’d come to terms with her own body’s inadequacies, had made peace with her fate. None of it had come without scars, or pain or resolutions. The most important thing was the promise she’d made to herself to be honest about her feelings, and to expect others to be honest in return.
Pipes rumbled overhead as the shower was turned off. She quickly started the coffee, then hurried to the back bathroom where she combed her hair, washed her face and brushed her teeth. By the time she returned to the kitchen, the coffee was done and her resolve was firmly in place.
She turned at the sound of footsteps behind her. “Good morning,” she called as cheerily as she could manage.
“Good morning,” he replied, eyeing her cautiously.
“Are you ready to talk this morning?”
He lumbered past her on his way to the coffeemaker with a dark look and a mumbled “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Come on, Tony,” she cajoled. “You must have some idea in your mind of what you’ll be doing a year from now, or five, or ten. Am I there with you? Or do you see a faceless woman and more children?”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Is it? Can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you haven’t paused for a moment while we were making love, that you haven’t thought about the fact that you couldn’t make me pregnant?”
He set his mug down so hard coffee sloshed over the side. “What do you want me to say, Beth?”
“The truth.”
“I don’t know what I see in my future a year from now, or in five years, or ten. And that’s the honest-to-God truth.”
Beth closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she were more like Janet, who never rocked the boat, or made waves, or got herself into a situation that had no clear and easy way out.
“Look,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is getting us nowhere. Let’s forget about it and just go on the way we were.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because,” she said, imploring him with her eyes, “I thought I would die of hurt and heartache when Barry left me. But I didn’t. As time went on, I realized that my life with him had been a lie. What you and I are doing for Christopher and Annie feels good and honorable and right. It feels like destiny, but I need to keep the truth in front of me, so I know where I’m going, and why.”
He heaved a great sigh. “Where does that leave us?”
“Between the proverbial rock and a hard place. I’ll move my clothes back into the spare room later this morning.”
“What?”
She wanted to explain to him that if she continued to have sex with him, she was going to fall in love with him. And she just didn’t think she could live through being thrown away twice for the same reason. But she became tongue-tied and ended up saying, “I think it would be best.”
“Best?” he bellowed.
“Less awkward.”
“I think I should have some say in this,” he declared, his voice rising. “We’re married, and we should sleep in the same bed, dammit. If you don’t want me to make love to you, I won’t. I’m not some rutting teenager, you know. I’m old enough to control my own lust.”
When she didn’t answer, Tony stalked to the door and slammed it behind him.
He arrived at the hospital with his tie loose and his cuffs unbuttoned, wondering what in the hell had happened last night. One minute he’d been contemplating what he was going to do when he took Beth to bed, and the next thing he knew, they were talking about whether or not he saw her in his future. No wonder her mother didn’t understand her. Bethany Kent Petrocelli was one obstinate, contrary woman.
He buttoned his cuffs, thinking that wasn’t entirely fair or true. Beth was beautiful and smart and thoughtful. That was the problem. She thought too much. How was he supposed to know how he felt about the fact that she couldn’t give him kids of his own? Did she want him to say he was happy about it? He sure as hell didn’t believe it was a good enough reason to move her clothes back into the spare bedroom. What was he going to do about that woman?
He locked his car and headed for the hospital’s back entrance. At least he knew what he was doing at the hospital. Delivering babies and doling out prenatal vitamins and listening to unborn babies’ heartbeats was his forte. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue what to do about his marriage. Not a stinking clue.
* * *
Later that morning, after she’d fed Christopher and had given him his bath, Beth called her brother-in-law and made an appointment to have a post-nuptial agreement drawn up. Then she walked upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Tony, staring at the king-size bed, lost in thought. She thought for most of the day. She came up with a lot of questions, but no revelations or resolutions.
Tony arrived home shortly after six. They shared dinner and made polite conversation. When he was called to the hospital to deliver a baby a few minutes before eight, they both breathed a secret sigh of relief at the reprieve.
By the time Tony returned home, it was after midnight. He took the stairs two at a time, pausing in the doorway of his bedroom, where Beth was sound asleep. She hadn’t moved her things back to the spare bedroom. Being careful not to make too much noise releasing another pent-up sigh of relief, he checked on Christopher, then undressed and crawled into bed.
There was absolutely no reason he shouldn’t have fallen asleep immediately. Beth didn’t jostle the bed. And he couldn’t smell her perfume or shampoo, or feel her warmth. She was too far away. But he knew she was there. And sleep was going to be a long time coming.
Beth opened her eyes and lay staring into the darkness, wondering if Tony would reach for her or whisper good-night. He did neither, tossing and turning on his side of the bed while she lay motionless on hers. The line had been drawn, and neither of them knew how to cross it.
MacKenzie worked her into his schedule on Tuesday, fitting her between a sticky divorce and a property dispute that was turning into a feud that rivaled the Hatfields and the McCoys. She thought her brother-in-law looked tired, but she didn’t tell him as much. In return, he asked her questions regarding the document she wanted him to draw up. As was their family’s way, he handled himself with a certain understated finesse and didn’t delve too deeply into her personal life or emotions.
Tuesday night seemed to take forever, as did Wednesday. Beth and Tony had dinner together both evenings. They talked about the baby, the weather, his work, but there were long stretches of silence when they faced each other, quiet and uncertain. They said good-night after crawling into bed together, but they didn’t kiss, and they didn’t make love.
Thursday morning, Beth picked up the legal document. After strapping Christopher into his car seat in the car, tears gathered in her eyes. They seemed to come out of nowhere with so much force she couldn’t stop them. Christopher stared up at her, his expression so serious she cried harder, promising him that everything would be all right all the while.
When the tears finally stopped, she dried her face and kissed the baby tenderly. And then she went to the Silver Gypsy to see Jenna.
* * *
Christopher was fascinated with the faint purl of wind chimes and the brightly colored scarves overhead. “Just look at him,” Jenna exclaimed. “He’s getting a double chin.”
Beth smiled. “He’s gained half a pound since we brought him home.”
“He looks healthy, all right. You, on the other hand, look like hell.”
Pretending to be interested in one of the new necklaces Jenna had designed, Beth shrugged. “In order for Christopher to put on weight, someone has to feed him. Often. I’m running low on sleep these days, that’s all.”
Jenna made a most unbecoming sound. “What a crock. You’re one of those people whose eyes become luminous when you’re tired, and you know it. Come on,” she said, swishing through the beads in the doorway leading to the tiny back room. “We’ll brew a pot of tea and you can tell Auntie Jenna all about what’s bothering you.”
Jenna was three years younger than Beth and looked about as auntlike as a sheikh’s belly dancer. Her long black hair swished when she walked, her strappy sandals showcasing small feet and narrow ankles. She was five three and had once said she’d been built low to the ground for easier maneuverability. Suddenly Beth found herself sitting at the tiny glass table in one corner, sipping strong tea and telling Jenna about her married life with Tony.
“We’re both miserable,” she said, nearing the end of her account. “We’re so fidgety and edgy and polite, I want to scream.”
“Of course you’re fidgety. You’re sleeping with a man who can’t touch you.”
“Do you think I should move back to the spare bedroom?”
Jenna snorted. “Few marriages work without sex, especially when one of the parties involved is nicknamed the Italian Stallion. I think you should take up where you left off several days ago.”
Beth shook her head. “That’s interesting advice coming from someone who hasn’t had a date in years.”
Jenna’s brown eyes twinkled like her Gypsy ancestors as she said, “We’re not talking about my sex life. We’re talking about yours. It’s a good thing, because I haven’t taken a man home in so long I hardly remember who puts what where. Be a pal and refresh my memory. Details would be good. Lots and lots of details.”
Beth threw a linen napkin at her and took another sip of her tea. “I don’t think I can go back to the way things were before.”
“Why not?”
When Beth didn’t answer, Jenna nodded knowingly. “Aaah. I think I’m beginning to understand. You’re afraid of getting hurt. But you can’t guard your heart against falling in love, Beth, no matter how hard you try. If it happens, it happens. You’ll have to accept it, along with the risks that go with it.”
Her best friend’s advice may have been well intended and sound, but Beth didn’t know if she could follow it. Maybe marriages couldn’t work without sex, and maybe she couldn’t protect herself from being hurt. But now that she’d thrown this up between her and Tony, she didn’t know how to get past it.
“I don’t know, Jenna. I want my relationship with Tony to be more than just sex between two consenting adults. I want emotion and passion.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes and lowered her chin. “Oh, my God. You want the fairy tale. Just remember how uncomfortable glass slippers would get in the long haul.”
Shaking her head at Jenna’s terminology, Beth said, “I don’t know how you’ve made it this long without meeting a man who can match you wit for wit.”
“There are none out there. Believe me, I’ve looked. Just remember the reason you got married in the first place.”
“For Christopher,” Beth said quietly.
“For Christopher,” Jenna seconded.
Propping her chin in her hand, Beth said, “How is it that you always seem to be able to keep sight of what’s important?”
Jenna flicked her hair behind her shoulders and busied herself at the tiny sink. “It’s a curse. And that’s exactly what I’m going to put on you if you don’t get out of here and let me get some work done.”
“You’re the best, Jenna.”
Jenna rattled off something in another language. With a mild shake of her head, Beth settled Christopher in the crook of her left arm and reached into the gigantic purse she carried these days. Fumbling around for a diaper and an extra bottle, she drew her hand out. “Here,” she said, pressing a tissue into Jenna’s fingers. “You missed a tear in the corner of your eye.”
It took a lot to render Jenna Maria Brigante speechless. Beth rather enjoyed it, but since she didn’t need a hex added to her list of problems, she and Christopher went home. She spent the rest of the morning wondering what she would do if she actually allowed herself to fall in love only to have Tony decide he couldn’t live with the fact that he was never going to bring a child of his own into the world.
It’s what Barry had done, she thought, rocking Christopher later that afternoon. The baby turned his face into the crook of her neck and sighed as if he had everything he needed. In that instant she realized that this situation was very different from her situation with Barry. When he’d left her she’d had no one. Now she had Christopher, and as soon as the adoption was final, nobody would ever be able to take him from her. Jenna was right. No matter what happened between her and Tony, Christopher would always be her son.
