Chapter 3
Thought of the day…
If you ever run into your ex unexpectedly, remain calm and hold your head high.
(Let’s be honest, they’re probably in more of a tizz than you are.)
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
There’s a reason I chose not to see Tommy in person: his presence wielded a destructive power that not even the Divorced Diva could protect me from, triggering heart palpitations, perspiration, shortness of breath…
And then there were the spine tingles, the heat pooling between my thighs, my sodden knickers.
Tommy was what you’d get if you blended heartbreak and lust into a smoothie.
And until that night, I’d limited our contact to occasional text messages and very rare phone calls. Call it self-preservation.
But there he was, in the flesh, so incongruous with his surroundings that at first, I couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
Then it hit me like a boulder dropping on my head. Tommy was on Aetheria. With me. And Julian. Two ex-husbands in the same place. And they knew each other! It truly was a waking nightmare, my compartmentalised worlds colliding.
Next thing, I’d discover that Julian had booked Rick’s band as the entertainment!
Tommy walked closer, looking smart in fitted navy shorts, tan boat shoes, and a white Polo shirt with Aetheria’s logo – a teal wave with a yellow rising moon – sitting over his left pec.
The shirt moulded to his still-impressive physique, the short sleeves showing off his tanned forearms, and his dark-brown wavy hair was slightly longer than I remembered. It suited him.
Why does he have to be so fucking sexy?
And more to the point, why does he have to be so fucking HERE?
Contemplating the answers to these questions made it so loud inside my head that I almost missed Julian introducing Tommy as Tom.
Tom?
Thomas – absolutely, it’s his name. And to me, he’s always been Tommy. But never just Tom.
He smiled as he approached the table and I couldn’t look away. I wanted to. In fact, I wanted to run away – go hide in my villa under the covers, my hands clapped over my ears.
But I was stuck there, frozen to my chair.
When Tommy finally clapped eyes on me, his smile didn’t just fall away, it tumbled off his face like snow tumbles down a mountain during an avalanche. We stared at each other for a thousand years until Julian’s voice broke through our shared fugue.
‘Tom, this is my ex-wife, Ally. She’s joining us for the week – she’s an influencer,’ he added, imbuing the word with pride. I am much more than that, but I didn’t have the presence of mind to be offended.
‘Uh, hi, Ally,’ Tommy stammered. He jutted his hand out so forcefully, his fingertips poked my right boob. We both recoiled and I redirected my gaze to the tabletop.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered.
‘That’s okay. Hi,’ I replied, flapping my hand in a half-hearted wave. I didn’t dare look at Julian, who must have been wondering what the bloody hell was going on.
‘Hi,’ Tommy said again.
So, he was as taken aback as I was.
More questions swarmed inside my head like midges at dusk.
Why is Tommy skippering a sailboat? Isn’t he supposed to be off building wells in a remote village or something?
Is this him shaking up his life? When did I last speak to him?
What did he tell me then? And how does he know Julian?
Oh god, does Julian know I used to be married to Tommy?
But he just introduced us as if we were strangers. Is Julian pretending? Is this a trap?!
I couldn’t stand it any longer. I looked at Julian. Yep – completely baffled. At least that answered some of my questions. Julian was clearly clueless that Tommy and I had a history.
Had a history. Now that’s a loaded term, alluding to passion and desperation and heartache, something I was hyper aware of with Tommy standing only a couple of feet away.
‘Uh, sorry,’ said Tommy again, drawing my gaze. He hitched his thumb in the direction of the staff quarters, small bungalows by the beach. ‘I should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.’
‘Goodnight,’ Julian said.
I stayed mute.
When Tommy left, I suddenly put two and two together.
I was supposed to spend tomorrow circumnavigating the island on a sailboat – with Tommy skippering!
There would be others on board – Julian’s PR team, other guests – but the excursion had been organised for me.
And I’d been promised the full VIP experience.
Did that include shagging the skipper below deck while everyone else oohed and ahhed over the scenery?
I shook my head, grasping for a sliver of sanity, but all I found was suffocation. I had to get out of there.
‘I should probably get some sleep as well,’ I said, standing abruptly.
‘Oh, but what about dinner?’ asked Julian, looking hurt as well as confused.
‘I… I’m really sorry, Jules. It must be jetlag or something, but I suddenly feel…’ I waved my hand about, hoping to convey general malaise.
‘Oh, of course,’ said Julian, standing – always the gentleman when it comes to manners. ‘We can have dinner tomorrow night – after your sailing trip,’ he added. He moved closer and kissed my cheek.
‘Sounds lovely. And I really am sorry – please send my apologies to Dimitra.’
‘Will do,’ he replied with a concerned frown. ‘Rest up, Ally. A busy weekend ahead.’
I gave him a quick smile, then left, scurrying up the hill towards my villa. It was in sight when a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed my wrist. I yelped as I was pulled behind a potted olive tree.
‘Shh. Ally, it’s me.’
I glared up at Tommy. ‘You scared me half to death,’ I said, my voice a harsh whisper. I rubbed my wrist where his hand had been.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked contritely.
‘No, just… What the fuck are you doing here?’
‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’
We glared at each other in the dim light, and I fought the overwhelming impulse to stand on tiptoes and bite his lower lip. Instead, I bit my own, and his eyes dropped to my mouth.
Forget about shagging below deck. How about against the wall behind a massive topiary?
Lust is just a shield, Ally. The heartache’s still there underneath.
So what? If I’m headed for disaster, I might as well enjoy the ride.
‘Ally…’ he said, cutting into my internal argument.
A random thought leapt into my head. ‘I didn’t know you could sail.’
He shook his head at the non sequitur. ‘I learned last year. When I was living in Sicily.’
‘You lived in Sicily?’
‘Briefly.’
‘Briefly, yet long enough to learn how to sail so proficiently that you’ve taken a job at an exclusive resort in Greece, which just happens to be owned by my ex-husband? Like that?’
‘I didn’t know that—’ He stopped himself and let out a long breath. ‘Look, there’s obviously a lot to catch up on.’
‘Oh, you don’t say.’
Such as why, when your job was the biggest barrier to us being together and you’ve clearly quit that job, you didn’t come back for me?
‘And we will catch up, I promise,’ he continued. ‘But can we please keep this between us? For now, at least?’
I assumed that by this he meant our marriage, but I couldn’t decide what to make of his request, which, admittedly, was a tad unfair. I wasn’t keen on telling Julian either.
He knew I’d been married twice before but it wasn’t as if I’d broken out the wedding albums for show and tell.
Here we are, darling. Now this is Tommy.
I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, but alas, some things don’t work out as hoped…
And isn’t he just the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on?
Instead, it was the opposite. Once a chapter was closed, once I’d learned my lesson – or hadn’t – I kept moving forward, my collection of air fryers and some hard-won self-truths the only evidence of what had come before. I certainly didn’t go about spilling the tea on my exes.
But standing there in the shadows with Tommy, two once-siloed chapters colliding, I wasn’t yet willing to examine my motives for keeping quiet. I was more concerned about his.
‘Why?’ I asked, placing my hands on my hips. ‘What do you care if Julian finds out about us?’
He started to speak, then stopped himself again. I hadn’t seen this side of Tommy before, hesitant and unsure.
‘There’s just a lot going on right now and I— I’d prefer it if we didn’t complicate matters by revealing that we were once married.’
‘Right. So, I’m a complication. Got it.’
I went to leave, but he captured my wrist again.
‘Ally…’
I wrenched it free and without another word, I strode towards my villa, chin up and hot tears stinging my eyes.
Complicate matters? You know what complicates matters? Believing you found the love of your life, then him choosing his stupid job over you! A stupid job he doesn’t even have any more!
I reached my villa and shut the heavy wooden door behind me, sagging against it as I caught my breath and blinked back tears.
Lust wasn’t my only shield. A low hum of anger had been guarding my heart for years. But now we were being forced together, neither shield would deflect so much as a stray eyelash – especially if it was Tommy’s.
Maybe I should just leave.
But I’d promised Julian. And it wasn’t his fault he’d accidentally hired my personal Kryptonite.
I pushed off the door and walked further into the villa.
Someone had been in for turndown service. The lights were on, casting an inviting yellow glow, music played softly – acoustic guitar, which sounded more Spanish than Greek, but still calming – one side of the duvet had been turned down, and a small gift box sat on the pillow.
My stomach rumbled. It had been stupid of me to lie about not being hungry, especially considering what was on offer, and I crossed to the pillow and snatched up the small box.
Expecting chocolate, I tore it open. A silver bangle fell to the floor and I stooped to pick it up, turning it in my hand so it caught the light.
I looked inside the box, and there was a note. I slid the bangle over my wrist and took it out.
Dearest Ally,
Just a small token of my appreciation.
With love,
Julian
Could the night get any more bizarre? Or ironic? A gift from one ex when the man my heart still longed for – because who was I kidding about siloes and moving on? – wanted to keep our history under wraps.
I plopped onto the bed, spinning the bangle around my wrist. A glint of light caught my eye and I held my wrist up to the bedside lamp. This wasn’t a silver bangle, I realised on closer examination. It was platinum and set with tiny diamonds.
I read the card again. With love, Julian. Oh god, was this a romantic gift? If so, it complicated matters (to borrow words from hubby number one).
‘Oh, Jules,’ I sighed wearily. ‘Are you trying to win me back?’
I took off the bangle and set it on the bedside table. Regardless of Julian’s intentions, I’d need to find a gentle way to return it.
My stomach rumbled again and I got up and went to the minibar where I conducted a quick inventory. There were all sorts of delicious Greek goodies. Hooray, I wouldn’t starve to death before morning!
I was just about to open a packet of dried figs when there was a knock at the door. I froze. Hubby number one or hubby number three? I drew in a breath and held it, keeping perfectly still, which was ridiculous. Whichever husband it was knew I was in there.
‘Just answer the bloody door, Ally,’ I chastised myself.
I crossed the room and swung it open, something that took considerable effort. But it wasn’t a husband. It was Christos, the Adonis from the restaurant.
‘Oh, hello,’ I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.
He presented a tray with a silver cloche on it. ‘Mr Cushing asked me to deliver this. He thought you might be hungry after travelling for most of the day.’
I lifted the cloche and eyed the assortment of food – a bowl brimming with plump olives, a plate of creamy dip sprinkled with chopped parsley, and a stack of pita that, from the aroma, was fresh off the skillet.
‘That’s melitzanosalata,’ he said, pointing at the dip.
‘Which is?’
‘It’s made with smoked eggplant.’
‘Ah, well it smells delicious.’ I lowered the silver dome and stepped aside. ‘Come on in.’
He hesitated for a sec, then entered. As I closed the door behind us, he walked over to the sitting area and placed the tray on the low coffee table. God, he has an incredible arse.
He straightened and turned, catching me checking him out – something I probably wouldn’t have done if it weren’t for the shitty, shitty luck of running into Tommy.
Sex with a stranger can soothe a heart that’s held together with Pritt stick, tape, and chewing gum. But seducing the hot waiter would have been little more than a consolation prize – gorgeous as he was, Christos wasn’t Tommy.
‘Well, enjoy,’ he said, his grin lingering a fraction too long to be professional.
I saw him out, and he gave me one last look before the door clicked shut. I turned to the tray of food. Forget Tommy, forget Christos – what I really needed was dinner. Easier to feed a growling stomach than mend a broken heart.