Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife(49)

It had been, hadn’t it?

Libby’s whole body began to shake. She was horrified that he’d spent all those years thinking she was wired that way, that it had never occurred to her that that was what was going on in his head, that he’d never told her. That in leaving she must have doubled the insecurities he’d battled with for so long.

‘I’ve never thought that way, Rion. Not the day we met, not the day we married, not ever.’

He looked thoroughly unconvinced. But then she supposed he’d spent most of his life hearing people tell him he was worth nothing, hadn’t he? The Spyros family, her father… Well, the latter at least she might be able to go some way to putting right.

‘Anyway,’ she added, ‘if I did share my father’s perspective I would have come back years ago.’

His head shot up a second time.

‘When my father heard about the success of Delikaris Experiences he tracked me down and called me up, wanting a reconciliation with both of us.’ Libby’s voice turned sour, but she kept her eyes focussed on his face, not forgetting her purpose in relaying the story. ‘When I informed him that we were separated, he promised that if I returned to you he would welcome us back with open arms and make you the heir to Ashworth Motors. When I refused, he swore he’d never speak to me again as long as he lived.’

Rion stared at her in disbelief. Thomas Ashworth had wanted her to stay married to him? Had come to consider him a worthy son-in-law regardless of his background because of what he’d achieved? Not long ago that would have felt like the ultimate accomplishment. Now her father’s good opinion just felt like an insult. As hollow as defeating Spyros had felt.

Because, no matter how long he’d spent telling himself otherwise, the only person whose good opinion he really cared about was Libby’s. He flicked his eyes up to meet hers, guilt forming a lump in his throat. Could it really be possible, then, that he’d had it all along? That he’d been wrong about everything?

‘Are you telling me that…you have no objections to having my child?’

Libby looked up at him desperately, feeling the tears prick behind her eyes. If he’d told her that he loved her, that he wanted her to be the mother of his child, nothing would have made her happier. But he hadn’t—because he didn’t.

‘I couldn’t bring a child into this world unless he or she would be guaranteed two parents who want to be married to one another for the right reasons.’

Libby watched as Rion closed his eyes. When he opened them again they looked completely changed, as if he’d finally faced that whatever he’d once felt for her had withered away. It had returned briefly, when their relationship had been fresh and exciting again, but now it was gone.

‘And that’s never going to be us, is it?’ he murmured.

Libby felt her heart shrivel and die inside her chest. She’d come inside to talk to him about the gaping hole in their marriage, to find out whether there was any chance he could ever truly love her. She hadn’t asked that question but she had the answer, and it was as clear as the result of a landslide election.

‘No,’ she whispered brokenly, ‘it’s not.’

And that was why she had to leave.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN




THE muffled slide of a suitcase from beneath a bed, followed by the opening and closing of wardrobe doors, seemed to Rion to be the most depressing sound on earth. He strode to one side of the living room and then back again, afflicted for the first time in his life by an inability to keep still. He wanted to go up there and kiss her until she agreed to stay. But he understood now that that would be as cruel as locking a bird in a cage.

His eyes skimmed the table where she’d been working yesterday, its surface scattered with brochures and scribbled notes. How had he not realised that earlier? If not five years ago, then at least that night at Georgios’s, when he’d seen for himself that she needed freedom like other people needed air. But he’d been so blinded by his own inferiority complex that it hadn’t occurred to him that when she’d argued that the sensible thing to do was get divorced it had been because she didn’t want to be married full-stop.

Now he understood that so long as she remained his wife, no matter how hard he tried to support her career or give her space to spread her wings, she was always going to feel trapped. Not because of his past, but because to her marriage itself was a prison. Or at least marriage to him was a prison. For a while there she must have believed there was a chance her feelings could change, that the desire she felt for him might grow into the right reason for wanting to stay, but he knew now there was no way it ever would, and so did she. He’d already done her too much wrong.