‘Nonsense,’ Apollo had declared without hesitation. ‘These matters have been managed without a wife’s input for years.’
But during that conversation Pixie had had to race off and be horribly sick, which had driven home hard another drawback. Hours of travel with her current delicate stomach would make her miserable and she was in no hurry to face Apollo with the repugnant downside of pregnancy. She was being ill an awful lot more than she had ever expected because her morning sickness seemed to attack at all times of the day. For that reason she had used the party arrangements as an excuse because she didn’t want Apollo to realise just how sick she was. While in her head she knew she should be sharing her suffering with him because he was an adult, it was a struggle to overcome her reluctance. He would fuss and she hated fuss and didn’t want to be treated like an invalid. In any case they had arranged for Pixie to have her first scan that very afternoon and she planned to ask the visiting gynaecologist then about her seemingly excessive sickness.
Pixie put the phone to her ear.
‘Pixie?’ Holly exclaimed before bursting into a mile-a-minute speech that left Pixie, who was still drowsy, none the wiser.
‘Sorry, I didn’t catch all that,’ she confided.
‘You’ve seen that stupid story already, haven’t you?’ Holly groaned. ‘Your voice sounds weird...you’ve been crying...’
A cold feeling slid down Pixie’s spine while she leant back against the pillows, striving to overcome the nausea beginning to creep over her. It would’ve been easier for her to simply admit that she was pregnant and sick but her best friend would be arriving the next day for the party and she wanted to save her baby news until she saw her in person. ‘What story?’
‘Vito insists it’s untrue...well, with that particular girl.’
‘Can I phone you back, Holly?’ Pixie gasped, cutting off the call and leaping from the bed in wild haste to charge for the bathroom.
Afterwards, she rested her brow down on the welcome coldness of the marble vanity counter and tried to muster the energy to clean her teeth. Oh, dear, she thought limply, it had not occurred to her that pregnancy would be quite so challenging. Certainly Holly had had a few upsets during her pregnancy but nothing similar to what Pixie was encountering.
And what had Holly been referring to? Some story in a newspaper? About Vito? No, why would she be phoning Pixie if it had been about Vito? And why would Holly think she had been crying about something? The chilled feeling of foreboding returned and as Pixie’s brain began to function again she reached for the tablet by the bed and put Apollo’s name in the search engine. The usual flock of references came up. She knew from experience that if she wanted to she could now access images of herself arriving on Nexos looking like a skinny bird in a very big sun hat that covered her face almost completely...
She sat on the edge of the bed while a tabloid page formed under the title ‘Leopards don’t change their spots...’ And with perspiration breaking out on her clammy skin she read about how the newly married Apollo Metraxis had been pictured entering his apartment building with a very beautiful girl and emerging with her still in tow the following morning. For a few moments she thought she would be sick again but she fought the urge fiercely.
So, what she had always expected to happen had happened within only a few months of their wedding. It was no big deal, she told herself squarely and, casting the tablet aside, she went for a shower. Apollo had said he would try to be faithful but the very first time he had had to leave her behind he had found alternative entertainment of the sort he was most accustomed to enjoying. His behaviour sent a powerful message. Clearly, Pixie was no more important or special to him than any other woman he had slept with. How could she ever have thought otherwise?
And Izzy Jerome was a very beautiful girl with long corn-blonde hair and endless legs. She was also famous, a fairly recently discovered model/celebrity. Apollo’s type in every way. Well, she wasn’t about to make a giant scene over Izzy or do anything silly, Pixie warned herself severely. It was time to default to their original marriage setting in which they shared a business arrangement and nothing else. At least she could save face that way, she reasoned in despair, a sudden convulsive sob creeping up on her and squeezing her throat painfully tight.
But she wasn’t going to cry over Apollo, Pixie told herself angrily. He wasn’t worth her tears. He was selfish and shallow and his betrayal had literally been written in the stars because she had always been well aware that leopards didn’t change their spots. The phone was ringing again somewhere in the distance but she ignored it, sitting on the shower seat while the water beat down on her and washed away the shameful tears. A sob escaped her straining lungs and she clenched her teeth in frustration. There was no way she was prepared to greet Apollo with red-rimmed eyes that would tell him just how badly he had hurt her.
And willpower did finally triumph over the tears. She switched off the shower and stepped out to grab a towel but only minutes later found herself throwing up again. Utterly wretched, she curled up on the cold floor for several minutes with Hector nuzzling against her legs. She petted him with a shaking hand. She felt dizzy and sick and dreadful but she wasn’t about to show it. Apollo had done her a favour, she reasoned miserably. Her body was already changing. Her breasts had swelled, her waist had thickened and her tummy was no longer perfectly flat. Apollo would soon have lost interest in her anyway and it was better that it happened sooner rather than later.
After all, she had to learn to be independent again and stand on her own feet. Her baby would need her to be strong and brave. She had to cope and rise above the terrible hurt trying to overwhelm her common sense. He didn’t love her; he had never loved her. The only woman Apollo had ever loved had been the evil stepmother who used him when he was far too young and immature to protect himself and had destroyed his trust and his ability to love. Was it any wonder that he had never had a serious relationship with a woman since then?
Slowly, clumsily, Pixie got herself upright again and began to dry her hair. Apollo would be home in a couple of hours with the gynaecologist he was flying out from London with him and she refused to humiliate herself by behaving like an emotional wreck and letting him appreciate what a fool she had been where he was concerned. Her pride would never recover from such an exposure. And how could she have fallen madly in love with a male programmed from the outset to break her heart? How stupid was that?
And even worse she had that wretched party to get through. As if that was not enough Apollo had contrived to destroy Christmas for her as well for the two of them had been invited to celebrate Christmas with Vito and Holly in Tuscany. Of course she would cry off now. She had no plans to take the shine off the festivities by attending as a betrayed and broken-hearted wife, who had nowhere else to go over Christmas. Apollo would probably take Izzy Jerome with him instead. Of course, Izzy might not still be Apollo’s flavour of the month in three weeks’ time, she thought wretchedly. His interest in a woman rarely lasted that long.
Squeezing herself into a stretchy skirt, Pixie blinked back fresh tears. Why was she putting on weight so fast? According to what she had read she was supposed to be gaining weight very gradually, not piling it on as though she had been eating for an entire rugby team!
* * *
In London, Apollo paced beside his private jet while he spoke to Vito. Who could ever have guessed that marriage could be so stressful? His life pre-Pixie now seemed free as the air, a time of immaturity and egotism. Back then nothing had bothered him very much, not the scandals, not the grasping women, not even the horrendous rumours and gossip about his lifestyle. He hadn’t had to explain himself or defend his reputation to anyone because he truthfully hadn’t cared what anyone thought about him. It hadn’t mattered as long as he knew that he had done no wrong. But now he had Pixie and everything had changed out of all recognition. He had a wife who was pregnant and vulnerable and innately distrustful of him.
‘The way the paparazzi follow you around it was bound to happen,’ Vito contended. ‘And now that you’ve achieved your objectives and she’s pregnant...does it really matter?’
Pure rage slivered through Apollo. ‘If it hurts her, it matters,’ he breathed in a raw undertone. ‘Of course, it matters!’
‘You don’t sound quite as detached as you usually do,’ his friend commented.
‘Look, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ Apollo concluded, ending the call in sheer frustration.
Obviously, he wasn’t detached. He was in turmoil. He was thinking things he’d never thought. He was feeling things he had never allowed himself to feel and the result was a state of mind dangerously close to panic. He boarded the jet with the fancy gynaecologist and his small team, yet another source of worry to be dealt with. Dr Floros had suggested that he call in a consultant when Pixie’s blood tests had come back with an unexpectedly high count and the result had been forwarded to London. The scan would hopefully reveal whether or not there was any cause for concern. Apollo had persuaded the island doctor not to reveal that fact to Pixie in advance of the scan, lest it upset her, but he knew the older man was planning to share the result with her the following day.