Chapter Ten
LOOKING UP FROM his screen, Ares blinked.
He glanced up at the clock on the wall, out of habit more than because he needed to know what time it was. Time was indeed a construct. Obviously, he respected it for the sake of other people. But for himself, it had ceased to matter eight days ago.
His gaze drifted to the windows. His office had enviable views in all directions, and now he let the chair revolve slowly, taking in the panorama of the city.
Athens was always hot in July, but for the last few days, the city had been baking in the grip of a heatwave.
The roads and pavements felt spongy, and even the Parthenon seemed to be affected by the blistering sun, appearing to sway in the heat shimmer at the top of the Acropolis.
Or so everyone was saying.
He hadn’t noticed. He went from the townhouse to the office and back again on a loop like some pit pony in a mine.
He rarely went into Athens.
He couldn’t. The city he loved was no longer his city.
It was her city. Willa’s.
At the edges of his vision, he saw her move. And he stared straight ahead until he felt her retreat. It was easier to do that here. Here, she was only in his head.
But it was different outside of the office.
Everywhere he went, he could see her in the shadows.
He felt like an archaeologist, but instead of broken pots and rusting arrowheads, he found traces of Willa imprinted in every stone.
This corner was where they had stopped to look at a dress in a shop.
That street was where he had taken her hand and towed her back to the townhouse.
His spine stiffened painfully against the leather upholstery, and he got to his feet, needing to move, to shift the memory of Willa’s body curving against his.
He had many memories like that. Most he could banish to the recesses of his mind if he focused on work. Or ran on a treadmill at the gym, forcing his body to keep striding until his muscles burned and his brain blurred with fatigue.
But there was one memory he couldn’t shift.
Willa, her eyes fixed on his face, her voice clear as spring water as she said I don’t love you. I could never love you.
His fingers curled into fists.
He’d told himself she was lying. That she was scared. That she needed space. So he’d left. And he’d been right. She did need space. More space than Athens, more than even Greece offered, presumably. Which was why when he’d returned two hours later, she was gone.
Chest tightening, he flicked the headrest of the chair, sending it spinning. He’d felt like that chair when he walked back into the bedroom. For a few agonising seconds he hadn’t understood that she was gone.
And then he had, and it felt like an earthquake.
He let go of the chair, ran his hand over his face.
She had packed her things and presumably taken a taxi to the airport. There was no note. But then she’d said everything she needed to say.
He could have gone after her. Could have followed her back to London. But he was no stalker, and anyway his brain had been offline, and his body felt as if it was made of glass.
And then the pain started. Heartache. It wasn’t real. Hearts had nothing to do with love—he knew that logically—but still his heart ached as if it was being squeezed by a giant hand.
It was so much worse than what he’d felt with Zoe.
That had been pride, he realised now. A bruised ego. And shame, and anger with Zoe, and with himself. Because he hadn’t loved her.
He had wanted to love her. Wanted their relationship to mimic the love stories he’d been told about his parents and his grandparents, and so he had pushed the marriage agenda. And it was easy to do. Zoe was beautiful, and she was already part of his life. And he’d thought that was enough.
No wonder she had looked elsewhere. Zoe had acted wrongly, but at least she had been self-aware and honest, in a way. She understood what love looked like. What it should look and feel like.
He’d had no idea, despite speaking a language that offered countless words for love.
And then he met Willa. And the world had swerved off its axis just like his car had swerved on that London street. What was it he’d said to her? I call the shots.
Not after he’d walked into the bar at the Clarendon, he hadn’t.
He had become a creature of obsession. Pursuing her, then pushing her into working for him, into coming to Kallos, pushing and pushing—
Until he’d pushed her away.
He glanced over at his laptop. She had emailed him a copy of the prenup. But aside from that, Willa hadn’t reached out once.
Could he blame her? He could. But he also blamed himself. He hadn’t learned anything from what happened with Zoe. Instead, he had compounded those errors with a few additional ones.
There was a tap at the door.
‘Mr Konstantinou.’ It was Christina, his PA. She was staring at him anxiously as she had been doing for the past eight days. But then, he had practically been living at the office. One night he had even slept there.
‘I have your sister on the phone. She’s been trying to get hold of you on your mobile. Shall I put her through?’
Ariana. She knew something was wrong. Typical Ariana, she had asked him directly if it had something to do with Willa. With Willa leaving. He had denied it, but she was persistent. She would keep asking and asking. Pushing, he thought dully.
He was so bad at love. The rest of his family made it look so easy.
Was this how Willa felt? Was she still feeling like this?
But even before he pictured her slim, tense body, he knew the answer to the question, and he realised he was braced on the balls of his feet.
Not to flee. He was done with running. But Willa needed someone on her side.
‘Tell her I’m on another call and that I’ll call her back. And then get hold of Andreas and tell him to get the plane ready.’
Christina frowned. ‘Were you going somewhere?’ She tapped on the screen of her tablet. ‘I had you down for a meeting with the mayor this afternoon.’
‘Cancel it. In fact, cancel everything for the next few days. There’s been a change of plan.’
* * *
‘If you can sign off the file-D for the Leilani case, I’ll send it to Katie Godfrey.’
Willa looked up from her screen. ‘Thanks, Maggie.’
It was Friday. She was sitting in Chloe’s office with Maggie. This meeting was Chloe’s idea, a chance for the three of them to go through their overlapping schedules. And it was a good idea. Not that she was much of a judge, Willa thought, as the legal secretary got to her feet.
A shaft of sunlight cut through the blind and as she blinked, she saw Ares’s face in the moment before he turned away and walked out of the bedroom, and for a second, she couldn’t feel her hands, her breath. It was as if she was floating.
‘And you should be going.’
Maggie’s voice pulled her back to Chloe’s office, and hoping that nothing of what she was thinking was visible on her face, she frowned. ‘Go where?’
‘You’re doing that interview with Andrew Kilroy.’ Maggie frowned. ‘From the law society. Larry set it up—’
‘I thought that was tomorrow.’
‘It’s in twenty minutes.’ Maggie glanced at her phone. ‘The taxi is already here.’
‘I thought it was tomorrow.’ Willa felt a flush of panic as Maggie left the room. She hadn’t prepared anything.
As if she could read her mind, Chloe did one of those dismissive hand gestures she so excelled at.
‘It’s fine. They do them all the time for the website.
They don’t ask any hard questions. It’s a puff piece.
You praise your previous firm but also say how much you love working for Milner’s.
Talk about London being the birthplace of the law, mention someone who changed your life. ’
Shaking her head, Willa smiled stiffly. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ That was a lie. Obviously, she could write a short dissertation on what was wrong with her. Or compile a new dictionary, starting with A for Ares.
‘Really?’
Glancing up, she felt her smile freeze on her face. Chloe was looking at her incredulously.
‘Isn’t it obvious? I mean, you’re only human, Willa, and it’s a lot for one person to process.’
Willa felt her heart drop through her stomach. Her feet were rooted to the ground, but her brain was racing like a sprinter so that she felt almost breathless. Was Maggie talking about the pregnancy or Ares? Only, how could she know?
‘Does everyone know?’ she said hoarsely.
‘Of course. We might be British, but just because we have stiff upper lips doesn’t mean we’re entirely without feelings.’
Chloe sighed. ‘You’ve moved across an ocean. You left your family behind. It’s a big deal. But you’re not on your own. If you ever just want to grab a beer or go catch a film, just ask.’
To her horror, Willa felt her eyes flood with tears. ‘Thanks, Chloe. I’ll do that.’
As Chloe had predicted, the interview was straightforward. The only time she stumbled was when Andrew Kilroy asked who had changed her life.
And all she could think about was Ares.
How he had held her hand, coaxed her out the cage she had built around herself.
Made her feel solid and seen and safe. How much she loved him.
But she had already trapped one man into looking after her.
And she could remember Robert’s face. That helpless tangle of emotions.
She never wanted to see Ares look at her that way.
But at this point it seemed unlikely she would ever see him again anyway. She had sent him a copy of the prenup, and he had thanked her. Although, most likely it was his PA who had written the response. Aside from that, nothing. Not even about the DNA test.
With every passing day, it felt more and more like a dream.
She let herself into her rented apartment, fighting the impulse to cry, again. It was the hormones.
Except it wasn’t. It was knowing that Ares would one day find someone else, and she would have to live on the same planet.