Xenakis's Convenient Bride(30)

Was that what he was? Strong? He felt weak as a kitten. Utterly helpless.

Very slowly, very reluctantly, he released his hold on her and let his empty hands hang between his knees.

"Whatever you want," he said in a rasp.

An hour later, she had packed a single bag and the apartment was empty. She was gone.





CHAPTER TEN

"WHAT THE HELL do you mean, she's gone?" Edward Michaels demanded a week  later, when he called Stavros to the town house, apparently planning to  hand over this mansion to his grandson as a belated wedding gift.

"I mean she left. Went back to Greece." Stavros stuffed his hands into  his pockets and rocked his heels on the carpet where he had taken more  stinging lectures from this old man than either of them could possibly  recount.         

     



 

"What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing." Stavros looked to the reds and golds he knew so well, bit the  bullet and came clean. "I only married her to get the company."

"Yes, I know that," his grandfather said scathingly. "But why did you let her go?"

Of course his grandfather had seen clear through it. He was sharp as a tack.

"There's this thing called 'unlawful confinement.' Even I have my limits."

"Steven-"

"Don't call me that."

"Damn you, what does it matter what I call you?" Edward's hand slapped  the antique desk that was pure decoration now. No longer used by that  man, and would remain unused because Stavros couldn't stomach moving  into this mansion and living here alone. He would rather be in the  penthouse, where he could still see her rising to greet him, or walking  up the stairs with a flash of her legs, or inviting him with a glance  over her shoulder into the bed they had shared.

"Imbecile. All I have ever wanted was for you to quit throwing away your life like it doesn't matter and you do this?"

"I didn't throw her away. She left."

"Because you didn't hold on to her!"

"I couldn't! She deserves better. You think I don't know what matters? I was thinking of her."

"The hell you were. Are you feeling good, wallowing in the misery you  created for yourself? I thought it was bad when you kept trying to kill  yourself as punishment. Now you're going to carve out your heart and let  her take it back to Greece?"

"It's where I left it," Stavros ground out.

"Your father would have wanted-"

"Don't tell me what he wanted. I know what he wanted." Swim. I'll be right behind you.

"He would have wanted you to live, Stavros. Properly. Not with a death  wish. He would want you to love and have a family. Children. That's what  I wanted for him. It's what I have always wanted for you."

"You wanted him to come back here and grow the company," Stavros  reminded hotly. "You fought all the time about his staying in Greece."

"I wanted my son in my life. I wanted him back here to work with me,  yes. I was creating a legacy and wanted him to be part of it. But I  was..." Edward made a noise and waved a dismissive hand. "I was jealous.  All right? Of your mother's hold on him. Your grandmother was a good  woman, but I didn't love her the way your father loved your mother. I  grew up a son of immigrants. We had nothing when we started. Money and  success were always more important to me than love. I thought he should  feel the same."

Stavros thought back to the latent anger in his father's voice, his  mother's mollifying tone as they talked about the power struggle between  the two generations. The conflict of loyalties.

"I regret that I was so hard on him for putting his wife and children  ahead of me. I resented his buying a home in Greece and spending so much  time with you there. I will always be sorry that he died before we  resolved that. It was worse when you came to live here. I learned what a  truly generous and loving person your mother is. They should have had  more time together."

Stavros winced.

"I'm not blaming you for that! I'm telling you I blame myself. I  shouldn't have made him feel as if he had to choose. You don't own the  patent on being hardheaded, Stavros. We're all guilty of it. If I had  asked him, rather than ordered, you might have been on an airplane to  come here, rather than on the sea that day."

Stavros shook his head. "I'm the one who wanted to go fishing. It was my fault we were out there."

"And he indulged you because he wanted a better relationship with his  son than he'd had with his father. It took me a long time to see that.  To recognize the mistakes I had made with him and continued to make with  you."

"You had every right to be hard on me. I was a little bastard."

"You were," Edward agreed without compunction. "And when you showed up  with Calli the way you did, I saw myself in that cutthroat tactic. I  realized I had raised you to be exactly like me, and I was not proud of  myself. Then I got to know her and she doesn't give a damn about our  money. The way she looked at you... Even I could recognize it as the  furthest thing from avarice. She loves you. And, damn it, as much as you  wanted the directorship, you left by five every night. You wanted to  get back to her. I thought you were finding the kind of happiness I  denied your father."

Stavros pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking about how he had  watched the clock, eager to get home to his wife. Since she had left,  time crawled. He worked late and woke early in an empty bed. It was a  meaningless way to start a day.         

     



 

Do you love me?

He had never felt he deserved such a thing. He had certainly done his  best to make his grandfather reject him. Only his mother and sisters  were allowed to love him, and then only because he couldn't bear to hurt  them by cutting them from his life.

Calli wasn't allowed to love him.

But when she had said her little speech about showing her love for her  son by bowing out of his life, Stavros had known he had to let her go.  He had been so certain he was doing right by her. Letting her go because  he loved her.

"I am an imbecile."

"Finally we agree on something." His grandfather slapped his shoulder. "Go get her, son."



The knock at the door had Ophelia sitting up from her slouch on the sofa. "Pizza!" She clicked to pause the movie.

"You did not order pizza," Calli protested. She was going to gain three hundred pounds before this girl left for school.

Ophelia's expression blanked. "I thought you did."

"No. I said we're not charging anything more to your father's card."

"He's fine with it." Ophelia groaned, pushing to her feet and sending  Calli a scowl of impatience. It turned to a frown of curiosity. "If not  pizza, who's at the door?" She moved to go on tiptoe, peering through  the peephole. "Oh, my God!" she hissed. "It's your husband."

"What? Don't-"

Too late. Ophelia swung the door open. "Geia. What are you doing here?"

"Ophelia..." Don't be rude, Calli wanted to say, but the sight of  Stavros nearly knocked her off her feet as she tried to stand. How could  he have grown more handsome in a handful of weeks? While wearing  stubble and a wrinkled shirt with a loosened tie?

At the sound of her voice, his gaze swept to slam into hers. "What are you doing here?"

"Girls' night," Ophelia volunteered with a wave at the litter they had  accumulated. "Popcorn. Ice cream. Movie without nudity because she  thinks I'm still nine." She folded her arms and lifted her brows in  disdain.

Stavros came into the flat and closed the door.

"I mean, why are you staying here?" He didn't take his eyes off Calli.  "I gave you the codes to our flat before you left." For the Xenakis  penthouse, he meant. The one that provided views of both the Acropolis  and the horizon on the sea, rather than being tucked on the edge of that  posh address and overlooking the red lower rooftops of middle-class  districts in Athens.

"Takis had to travel. Ophelia didn't want to stay with her  grandparents." And their marriage was a farce. He was divorcing her. Had  he forgotten? She hadn't.

"So he's not here?" Stavros cut a swift, sharp look around what had  always seemed a luxurious flat to Calli, but compared to the way Stavros  lived was only very nice. There were three bedrooms, but they were  quite small. The decor was professionally selected, but the wall art was  prints, not originals. The rugs weren't hand-loomed.

"He'll be gone the week. Why? Do you need to speak to him?"

"No. You're not working for him again, are you?"

"Kind of." She scratched her elbow. "I took his things to the dry  cleaners and brought in some groceries, so I'm not freeloading. Mostly I  just wanted to spend some time with Ophelia before she goes to school."

She had told Ophelia about Dorian. All of it. Ophelia was at an age  where boys were beginning to occupy a lot of her thoughts, and it had  seemed a sensible cautionary tale. It had also been cathartic, and  Ophelia's reaction, so defensive on Calli's behalf, had been incredibly  sweet. The empty calories and mindless movies had been Ophelia's attempt  to spoil her, trying to help her heal while Calli figured out her next  moves.