Chapter 11
It had been four weeks since Demetri had left.
I still missed him desperately but it was feeling a little less raw now.
Putting the barn dance together was not only filling my time but also giving me lots of laughs.
One of the days, we did an all-hands-on-deck clear-out at Tessa’s barn, and being in the company of my friends really lifted my spirits.
I was starting to feel a little more human, even looking forward to the dance, which was looming.
Time and busyness were healing me and I found daily peace through journaling.
Early mornings were a special time of day; watching the glorious sunrise over the sea, it felt like each day was a fresh new start.
Over my morning coffee, at the bistro table outside my door, I jotted my thoughts down, contemplating life, which helped me to make sense of my world and my decisions.
When I saw a familiar figure walking towards me, at first I thought my eyes were deceiving me.
My stomach lurched and my heart skipped as the person got nearer.
The curly brown hair had been cropped short and was neatly gelled back.
His time in Greece had certainly given him a golden tan.
His more relaxed clothing style suited him; linen khaki-coloured trousers and a pristine white T-shirt which clung to his clearly more toned body.
In the short space of time, Demetri looked different but the same.
Those big brown eyes that bored into my soul were still as beautiful as ever, yet he had a nervous and pinched look on his face.
I stood and started to walk towards him, wondering if this was a figment of my imagination. Was this a mirage in the sun? The realisation that he’d come back made my heart pound.
He was home.
When he held out his hand for me to shake, I frowned, surprised at this formal greeting which was incredibly unusual for him. I know we’d been apart a while, but I hadn’t expected that.
‘Michelle?’ The rising inflection in his voice made my name a question. Even his voice sounded different.
I took another step forwards, not knowing whether to throw my arms around him and cover him with kisses or stay as cool as he was being with me. But my head was telling me that everything must be OK because he’d come back. He must have come back for me. And that must be good. Right?
‘Ah, sorry, you thought I was Demetri.’
He had a thick Greek accent. Was I going mad? My mind was racing, and I rubbed my forehead. But as he spoke again, my questions were answered.
‘I am Makis.’