Chapter Nine #3
He pulled away from her, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing his hands through his hair.
“Christos…”
He knew better than to let an adversary see him in weakness.
But she was not his adversary. Not exactly.
It was complicated. He did not quite know what to make of it. He did not quite know what to do with it.
“Come to dinner,” he said, standing, finding his legs unsteady.
He would have to collect his clothes. They could not go to dinner naked.
He looked at her, and her glowing skin, her bright eyes. That unruly hair. He wished that they could go to dinner naked. And part of him wondered why people didn’t. Why they didn’t just do whatever they liked. Why they didn’t simply follow their animal instincts.
Because it leads to dark places.
He had never minded the dark. That was the thing. He had been thrust into it against his will. And he had decided that he could make quite a happy home there.
“Are you all right?”
She moved as if she was going to touch him, and he pulled away.
“I am well,” he said. “I need dinner.”
“Do you get hangry, Christos?”
He frowned. The gentle teasing and her tone were…odd. It was the kind of thing she might have said to him over text before she knew who he was. But not as Sylvie. And not to him.
“No,” he said. “But it is dinnertime.”
“I don’t know, I think that you seem a little bit hangry.”
“I do not get…angry when I am hungry.” He realized that his thunderous tone seemed to make that a lie.
“I am used to going without food. I do not like it. I wouldn’t choose it.
But I spent a substantial part of my childhood hungry.
If I did not learn how to adapt and cope with that, then I would be dead. ”
She looked stricken by that.
“What?” he asked.
“I didn’t know that you were…that you went without.”
“Did you assume that I came from money?”
“Most very rich people do. And honestly, there isn’t a lot about your personal life online. I know. I’ve googled you.”
“By design, there isn’t a lot about me online.”
He dressed quickly.
“You know, most people don’t have control over that.”
“I’m a ghost,” he said. “Onassis isn’t even my surname. I chose a new one.”
“What?”
“Why would I keep my bastard of a father’s last name? Why would I carry on his legacy? I won’t. Our child, he will carry my name. And it will be my legacy. His. Not any of my ancestors before him. They will die out. As they deserve.”
He realized that he had said more to her just now than he ever had to anyone.
About his past. About his feelings. The way that she looked at him…
Did she not realize he was not some soft child?
Who got fractious when he didn’t eat? He had been deprived of food and water for days at a time. He had been worked to exhaustion often.
He was not…he was not insubstantial, and he was not someone to be teased.
“Let’s go eat,” she said softly.
She was being nice to him, and he didn’t like it. It had been nice a few moments before when they’d been having sex. He didn’t find it necessary now.
It felt like his chest was being split in two, and he didn’t like it.
When they walked into the dining room, dinner was set out in a glorious array.
“It is probably not at its optimum temperature,” he said.
“Christos, I wish that you would talk to me. You’ve suddenly gone very formal and very stiff.”
“This is just how I am. You’re used to seeing me in business meetings.”
“And in text messages. And in bed.”
“It’s different. It was different.”
“Why was it different?”
“It just was,” he said.
He sat down at the head of the table, and he began to dish himself some chicken and vegetables. “I must leave town tomorrow.”
He hadn’t realized that he was going to say that until the words came out of his mouth.
“You…you’re leaving?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Since when?”
“It has always been planned,” he lied. Easily. Smoothly. “It just didn’t come up today.”
“I have… I have work to do.”
“Yes,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect you to come with me.”
He didn’t want her to. He wanted to get away from her, away from this. As soon as possible.
“Well. You were telling the truth, then. We really won’t see each other all that much.”
“No.”
She froze, her eyes making very purposeful contact with his. “I won’t share you with other women.”
He hadn’t even thought about other women. Not one time. “I won’t share you with other men.”
“As long as we are agreed. If we are having sex, then there is no one else.”
“Satisfactory.”
“Thanks, Spock. I really appreciate it.”
Spock. He did get that joke. He didn’t think it was funny, though. Mostly because he didn’t see that there was anything wrong with being logical. It made the world work a whole lot better than acting out of your own selfish interests. Than following your own feelings.
Isn’t that what you’re doing?
No. He was being logical. He was leaving because he needed distance. Because he needed to be…himself. She made him feel not himself, and it stood to reason that he ought to get some time on his own.
It didn’t matter what she thought. It didn’t matter…
He wasn’t acting from feelings. He didn’t do that. He wouldn’t even know how.
You’re a liar. You feel plenty.
Anger. Vengeance. Yes, that was true.
But anything else…
Joy. Maybe joy is what you felt upstairs.
“I may be gone for quite some time,” he said.
“Well. I guess my life will go back to normal, then.”
He smiled. “I suppose it will.”