21. Tia
I slammed my bedroom door shut, twisting the lock with trembling fingers. I crossed the room quickly and sank down beside Zeus, who was curled up on his plush bed near the bay window.
He immediately raised his head, alert to my distress. A soft whine escaped him as he shifted to press his body against mine, shoving his wet nose against my tear-streaked cheek.
“It’s okay, boy,” I whispered, though nothing felt okay.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I could still feel Chrys’s intensity—first in passion, then in anger. The sensation of his touch lingered on my skin, making this sudden distance between us feel surreal. His accusations replayed in my head.
The worst part is, beneath my hurt, I wondered if he was right.
My phone chimed with a social media notification, not a text. Probably another wedding photo from a college acquaintance, or my cousin’s new baby. Something normal. Something from a world where relationships didn’t implode over pregnancy claims.
But it wasn’t.
A direct message from Katalina glared up at me. I tapped to open it. A black and white sonogram filled my screen.
The words on the picture displayed Katalina’s name and yesterday’s date. Pain spread through my body, settling like lead in my stomach.
Could Chrys have lied? After everything we’d been through?
I leaned my head back against the wall. Outside, the Grecian night was alive with chirping insects and the distant crash of waves, but inside this room, it felt like time had frozen.
“I’m sick of this bitch!” I whispered to no one.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I dialed Katalina’s number and hit call. The phone rang once, twice—
“Hello?”
“It’s Tia,” I said. “I got your sonogram.”
“Good,” she replied after a brief pause. “Then you understand the situation.”
“Actually, I don’t,” I countered. “A picture proves nothing. Anyone can get a sonogram image.”
“You think I’m lying?” she asked, her tone shifting from confident to indignant.
“I think you’d do whatever it takes to break Santo and I up,” I said bluntly. “So here’s my offer. I’ll walk away from Santo for good if you let me come with you to your next sonogram appointment. When the tech confirms you’re pregnant and the age of the fetus, I’ll leave. No drama, no fight.”
The silence that followed stretched so long I thought she might have hung up.
“Fine,” she finally said, her voice tight. “I have an appointment next week. Tuesday at two PM at the private clinic in the city. You can meet me there.”
Her immediate agreement caught me off guard. Either she was telling the truth, or she had another trick up her sleeve.
“How about we do it at a walk-in ultrasound clinic of my choosing, not your regular doctor?”
“Excuse me? ”
“You heard me,” I said. “Tomorrow morning. I’ll select a neutral clinic. If you’re really pregnant, you shouldn’t have any problem with that.”
The silence that followed was so charged I could almost feel the electricity through the phone.
“You have no right—” she began.
“I have every right,” I cut in. “If you want me gone, this is the only way it happens. Otherwise, we’ll fly to Copenhagen tonight for a quickie marriage and by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll flush my birth control.”
I heard her inhale. Finally, she spoke, her voice calm once more.
“Fine. Text me the details. But when the ultrasound confirms what I’ve told you, you leave Greece immediately.”
“Deal,” I replied simply, before ending the call.
What did I just do? I bet everything—him, us, my whole damn heart—on one appointment. If that sonogram showed what she claimed, I’d have to honor my word and leave.
Was Chrys right? Have I been looking for excuses, never fully committing? I haven’t even told my mother about our engagement.
I lowered my phone, suddenly aware of how fast my heart was racing. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time since being kicked out of her car, I felt like I was playing my own game instead of Kat’s.
I pulled up Chrys’s name in my messages.
I saw the sonogram
I deleted it.
How could you lie to me?
Deleted.
I’m sorry I doubted you
Deleted.
Nothing I typed made sense. I was mad, hurt, confused and still so in love it made me want to scream into a pillow.
I went to my mother’s contact. Deanna White would know what to say. She always did. But what would I tell her?
That I’ve been engaged for weeks without mentioning it? That the man I loved might be having a baby with someone else? That I wasn’t sure I was strong enough for this world of wealth, drama and public scrutiny?
I set the phone down without calling.
Zeus shifted, pushing his body closer to mine. At least I wasn’t completely alone.
My mother had protected me all my life, and when I’d started college, Tammy had taken on that role. But with Chrys, everything was always unpredictable. Passionate. Consuming. And right now, I was drowning in it all.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I ignored it, curling tighter against Zeus. Whoever it was would get the hint, eventually.
The knocking persisted. “Tia?” Kayla’s voice came through the door. “I think your mother is at the gate.”
I bolted upright. “What?”
I rushed to unlock the door, finding Kayla standing there. She grabbed my arm, pulling me through the hallway.
“My mom? That’s impossible,” I stammered as she hurried me along. “She’s in Montrose.”
“The security guard called. Someone’s raising hell at the gate, claiming she’s your mother,” Kayla whispered as we rushed down the corridor. “She threatened to call the police if they didn’t let her in.”
We emerged onto the front steps where Dimitrios, Irida, and Domna were already gathered in the silvery moonlight, all in various states of dishevelment. Domna’s gray hair was wrapped in pink rollers, while Dimitrios had hastily thrown a burgundy silk robe over his pajamas.
“What’s happening?” I asked, but my question died as headlights swept across the driveway, illuminating the trees .
A car screeched to a halt, the door flying open before the vehicle had fully stopped. And there, to my complete shock, was my mother.
She stepped out in black sweats and running shoes, her hair tied back in a low bun. She had that I’m about to catch a case face I knew all too well.
“Where the hell is my daughter?” she shouted, as she scanned the assembled family.
I froze on the steps, utterly stunned. My mother was in Greece. I’d spoken to her this morning, and she’d mentioned nothing about coming here.
“If anyone in this house has laid a finger on my baby, I will murk everyone in this motherfucker!” Her voice carried across the entire property. “Don’t think I won’t!”
Irida gasped and clutched her robe closer. I heard Domna mutter appreciatively, “I like her.”
My mother approached the group, ignoring her still-running car. “Tia!” she called, her voice cracking slightly. “Mommy’s here! You can come out. Nobody will hurt you!”
“Mom?”
Relief washed over her face before she rushed forward, pulling me into an embrace so tight I could feel her heartbeat.
“My baby,” she whispered against my braids .
She released me and held me at arm’s length, her eyes searching my face and body in the dim light.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, still struggling to process her presence.
“I’ve come to save you,” she said firmly, eyeing the Christakis family with undisguised suspicion.
“Save me? From what?”
“Kat called me, Tia,” she said, her voice hardening. “She told me everything.”
My heart pounded so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. The night air suddenly felt thick, difficult to breathe.
What could the witch have possibly told my mother?
“What did she say?” I asked tentatively.
“It doesn’t matter what she said.” My mother’s grip on my shoulders tightened. “All that matters is I’m here now and I’ll take you home.”
Kayla thankfully stepped forward, hands outstretched. “Hi there, I’m Kayla Christakis,” she said gently. “And this is Domna, Irida, and Dimitrios Christakis.”
My mother acknowledged no one, her eyes fixed solely on me. “Let’s go,” she said.
“Mom, these people have been kind to me,” I pleaded, acutely aware of how this looked. “Please be nice. ”
“You expect me to be friendly with the people who’ve kept you hostage?”
“What?” I gasped, stunned.
“Your daughter is safe here,” Dimitrios interjected. “She is not being held captive.”
The glare my mother shot him could have shattered glass. She folded her arms, drawing herself up to her full five feet four inches.
“Let me be the judge of that.” She turned back to me, her voice softening. “Kat called me thirty minutes—” she paused, “I mean this morning to tell me you’re being held here against your will by your employer. I came as soon as I heard.”
I caught the slip, but was too overwhelmed to process it. “Mom,” I said, reaching for her hand, “why don’t we go inside? There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
Mom raised her hand to my forehead. “Are you feeling okay? Do you think it’s Stockholm Syndrome?”
“Mommm!” I whispered urgently, conscious of the Christakis family watching our exchange. “I’m fine. Please, can we go inside?” The air had grown cooler, raising goosebumps along my arms.
She studied me intently before she finally nodded. But she turned back to the Christakis family.
“Just so we’re clear,” she announced, “I know kung fu and have several pointy objects on my person. So nobody try anything. ”
Dimitrios’s unexpected booming laugh broke the tension, while Irida leaned toward Domna, whispering something that made them both smile approvingly at my mother.
In the receiving room, I gestured for my mother to sit on one of the plush sofas, but she remained standing, arms crossed, until I dropped onto the cushions first. No sooner had she settled than I sprang back up, pacing across the floor.
“Tia,” Mom said, her voice gentler now, “you’re making me nervous. Talk to me.”
I stopped pacing, fingers twisting the engagement ring I’d forgotten to hide. “I just don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning is always a good starting point.” The familiar phrase she used throughout my childhood brought unexpected tears to my eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Okay.”
I started with saving Chrys’s life, rehashing those terrifying moments of pulling him out of the car. I did not mention the kiss.
“Oh my God, baby!” Mom interrupted, horror etched across her face. “You could have been hurt yourself. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, as you can see,” I replied, gesturing to myself.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t get short with me, little girl! Don’t think I won’t whoop you. ”
I rolled my eyes, the exchange oddly comforting. Mom always threatened to whoop me, but never followed through. I continued my story, up to getting kicked out of Kat’s car.
Mom stood up, the sofa creaking beneath her sudden movement. “I’ll find Kat and beat her bony ass myself,” she declared.
“Mommm!”
“Don’t mom me,” she countered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I sank deeper into the sofa, feeling small. “I’m sorry, Mom. I just didn’t want you to worry. I was so happy to go on this trip, and I feared you’d have rushed here to yank me back to safety.”
Mom huffed but said nothing, because she knew it was the truth. I continued the tale, telling her of the Christakis’ hospitality and how kind they’d been to me.
“What I don’t understand,” she said slowly, “is why Kat would call me now? Am I missing something?”
I made eye contact with Kayla across the room. The night seemed to hold its breath as I explained Kat and Chrys’s relationship, then Chrys’s interest in me and everything that followed. Well, everything except the sex part.
“Tia...” Mom’s voice held a warning.
“Please, Mom. Let me finish.” For the next fifteen minutes, Mom listened as I told her about Chrys and me, Kat’s vicious rumors, the drama in Belgium, and finally, the engagement .
When I finished, Mom stood and turned to the Christakis family. “I’m sorry about earlier, and I appreciate you looking after my daughter. But we would like to leave now.”
“Mom, I—”
“Not now, Tia.” She cut me off, her eyes never leaving mine. The disappointment there pained me. “We’ll discuss why you didn’t tell me about your engagement to your ex-friend’s ex-man at my villa.”
The way she said “engagement” made it sound like a “felony.” But unlike the old Tia who might have crumbled under her mother’s disapproval, I felt the need to speak up.
“I will go to your villa with you to talk.” My tone was firm, surprising even me. “But I’m telling you now that if you attempt to convince me to end things with Chrys, I’ll leave, and you’ll hear from me only once a month moving forward.”
Maybe it was impulsive to draw the line with my mother, but it was my kind of impulsive. The kind that meant living for myself, not just surviving for her peace of mind.
Mom’s anger gave way to vulnerability. “You’d choose him over me? You love him that much?”
That question hung there. Heavy with every sacrifice and sleepless night she’d endured for me.
“I do, Mom. ”
She studied me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Alright. Go get your things. I’ll wait in the car.”