Chapter Ten #2
‘Security? A roof over her head? Health and happiness for those she cares about? I’m confident I have all of that, thanks to your billions. Or am I missing something?’
He shot her another impatient look. ‘You know very well what I’m talking about.’
‘And what—you can’t bring yourself to say the word? It terrifies you that much?’
His chin jerked as if she’d slapped him. And, while she hoped something had jarred loose, his shuttered expression said he didn’t much care for that verbal slap, nor did he intend to alter his thinking. ‘You will not taunt me into this.’
‘Into what? Into admitting that you’re scared to utter the word “love” because you believe it’s the Holy Grail destined to be forever denied you? Well, here’s a newsflash, Nelios: it’s already found you. Your mother, our son: they love you. They don’t believe it’s a flaw to hide from.’
His gaze searched hers with sizzling fervour, searching for something, and for a moment she considered tossing herself onto that pile too, risking it all. But the fear that it might be too harrowing if he rejected her held her tongue.
Already he was retreating. And, as much as she believed she would be strong enough to carry on, eventually, if Nelios Petralis broke her heart, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to walk through that fire.
His jaw gritted. ‘Even if that’s true, I also believe they’re still better off without my brand of…whatever it is that’s inside me. The thing that pushed me to take over your hotel, content to make you collateral damage in a war that wasn’t even yours to wage.’
She sucked in a shaky breath, then set it free. ‘I’ll consider forgiving you. You didn’t know better. There, that’s that taken care of. What next?’
His fingers bunched into fists, so he couldn’t reach for things he couldn’t have. ‘Nothing has changed. Nothing can change. I can’t risk the freedom of feeling.’
The finality behind the words as he started to walk out shattered her heart.
But she couldn’t let him have the last word.
‘You’re so focused on holding onto the prison bars in front of you, you can’t see that the doors opened behind you a long time ago.
Run, then, if you insist. But I can’t promise we’ll still be here when you come to your senses. ’
Nelios froze, chasing the cycle of emotions on Vayle’s face. From hurt to wariness to anger, each one drilled further holes in him.
He wasn’t a fool. He could see she wanted more from him.
He dragged his gaze from hers, the imploration in her eyes too much to bear.
Everything was too damn much. And the more he absorbed the bigger his misfitting parts chafed.
He was a broken puzzle, destined always to remain tossed aside in a dusty box.
The sooner he accepted that, the better.
Yes, he was better off without that…love…
anvil-heavy emotion that left a person wide open to the vulnerabilities great and small.
When a smile or a frown had the power to turn one’s world upside down.
It was the sort of weighty responsibility he’d sworn never to fall prey to, even if he could summon such an emotion. Which he couldn’t.
As his wife had warned, and Nelios had feared, it was probably already too late.
That time on the streets had changed him.
And he hadn’t exaggerated when he’d told Vayle something was broken inside him.
Something that would never let him be free of that frightened little boy who had learned in the most vicious way possible that love was a meaningless construct.
A myth tossed about to justify all the anguish and bitterness it had wrought.
But you’re not feeling much bitterness any more. And that anguish isn’t as terrifying as it used to be, so why don’t you—?
He jerked his case off the bed. ‘I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Maybe a few days. Perhaps a week.’
She shrugged. ‘Like I said, take all the time you need. We might be here when you come back, or we might not,’ she flung at him.
His insides shredded. Protesting words rose to his lips and one by one they died. He told himself the first lie—that it was better this way.
It wasn’t. And the different kind of anguish that filled him was clear evidence of that.
He wasn’t even sure why he’d withheld the truth from Vayle—that he was in Athens to speak to his mother.
No. He knew why. He’d been…afraid to tell her in case it made no difference, couldn’t fix him.
As he entered his suite in his flagship hotel in Athens, Nelios was struck by a new discovery.
The room was cold. Not in temperature—no, the marble gleamed with sunlight and fresh lilies spilled fragrance from crystal vases—but cold in the way only a room teeming with bitterness and acrimony could be.
Thee mou, if he could sense this in the air, did he even want to know what was happening inside him? What Vayle saw each time she looked at him, took him into her body?
Agnes sat ramrod-straight on the edge of a silk-covered chaise, a cup of untouched tea in her hand. She wore her apprehension like a shroud, but she managed to summon a smile. ‘Nelios. It’s good to see you.’
He stood opposite her, back to the unlit fireplace, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Her keen gaze rested on him, searching. For what? he wanted to snap. Signs that he was broken, past the point of no return? He bit his tongue.
‘You have a beautiful place,’ she continued. ‘It looks even better in reality than it did from the pictures.’
She was making conversation to cover the awkwardness. Against his will, something softened inside him. ‘A tour will be arranged if you wish.’
Not by him, though. A handful of months ago, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to further demonstrate how far he’d come without a single helping hand. But he’d only been away from Apeiron a matter of hours and he was already at breaking point.
The voice screaming inside that he’d made a mistake leaving Vayle and Angelos clamoured louder. What if she carried through with her threat to leave? Could he even blame her if she did?
‘Maybe later, thank you.’
He imagined Vayle’s wide, relieved smile at discovering he was here with Agnes and patted himself on the back. Brownie points with his wife were important.
Why, when it might not be enough to…to…?
His muscles tensed as the churning intensified. Damn it. The last time he’d walked a rope this tight was in that alley. But he’d come through that. He would come through this too. Put his past to bed, as Vayle had so passionately advocated. Maybe then he could finally seek greater pleasures.
Satisfied with that direction, he pinned his gaze on the woman who’d given him life then treated it so carelessly. And for a moment, he saw her—not the woman who’d disappeared from his life without a fight, but his mother. She was haunted and human. Flawed, as Vayle had insisted.
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’
‘I had practice,’ he replied. ‘You avoided me for half my childhood.’
Her breath hitched. ‘I deserve that.’
He didn’t deny it. He just let the silence stretch until it crackled.
‘So,’ he said, voice like glass, ‘Let’s get on with this. You’ve asked to see me often enough. Let’s talk.’
She swallowed, nodded. ‘Since the sin was mine, I guess I’ll start?’
It should’ve appeased him that she was finally taking the blame, but all Nelios felt was a deepening of that hollow in his soul.
It took several moments of prying open that rage-filled emptiness, forcing himself to look into the chasm to recognise what he felt.
Fury, yes. Pain, definitely. But…sorrow too, for all the wasted years.
‘Was it worth it?’ he asked, his voice weary. Another question he’d buried deep, pulling it out only when the demons won and he couldn’t fight the vault of pain.
Her mouth quivered. ‘In hindsight? No.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper. Then she shook her head. ‘That’s not quite true. This path I took, it brought me Vayle.’
His heart shredded. ‘A fair trade, I suppose. How lucky for you to be able to toss one child away and pick up—’
‘Stop saying that! I never tossed you away. We always planned to come back for you. At least, I did. Always.’ Her voice brimmed with the kind of certainty that battered his fury.
‘There were so many ways you could’ve ensured what happened to me didn’t happen.
Even at twelve, I could’ve told you that.
And, you forget, I overheard everything you and Apostolis discussed.
There was never a second, third or fourth option.
You chose foster care, without doing your due diligence or even caring where I landed. ’
He stopped, collected himself. ‘I want to know why,’ he said at last, low and controlled. The kind of quietness that masked years of rage. ‘Why you left me. Why you, my mother, chose to trust a complete stranger with your son’s wellbeing. Then you got on a plane and forgot all about him.’
Agnes flinched—actually flinched. ‘It wasn’t that simple.’
‘No?’ He stepped closer, gaze hard. ‘Because from where I stood—alone, confused, in a stranger’s care—it looked very simple.’
Her hands trembled around her tea cup. ‘You were never supposed to stay in foster care. The woman was recommended by Apostolis’s friend. He owned a care company. And it was only meant to be temporary, just a few months, while things settled.’
He laughed then, sharp and humourless. ‘“While things settled”. You mean until your pockets were fat enough? Did you even bother to call to check on me?’
‘Yes. I called the foster carer once a week, every week.’ Her face crumbled. ‘I was told it was best not to speak to you myself and unsettle you, as you were already making friends…’
‘Of course, you believed her. You wanted your conscience appeased.’
Her lips trembled and she didn’t even need to confirm that. He saw it written all over her face.
‘I thought you were happy, and the situation at the hotel was extremely challenging. I expect Vayle has told you about her father?’