Chapter Eighteen
Konstantinos was shattered.
Internally, it was as if everything was shredded. Ripped apart. And they could all see it. He was exposed. He had exposed himself. And yet, he didn’t feel vulnerable. He did not feel weak before all those eyes now watching him leave his dressing room.
He almost felt…reborn.
He hadn’t gone on the show as a businessman. He’d left behind his suit. He had gone as a man. A husband. A father. A son. And he hoped if there was a little boy out there watching him, he understood what he hadn’t when he was a child. Not even when he was a man.
There were different types of strength.
Poppy had shown him that. That to feel, it wasn’t always nice. It wasn’t always easy. But it was the truth. Truth was power. It was strength. To feel, to sit with those feelings, however hard they were—it was what living was.
He had not been living for so long. He’d convinced himself his strength differed from his father’s. But it hadn’t been different. He had been out of control, just like his father, running away from anything…real. Squashed it as if it wasn’t important.
Somewhere inside him, he’d known all along that facing his emotions—his feelings—was the only way to move forward. To be his best self. He’d preached it for years to his staff. He’d got help for his wife. But he could not help himself.
Today, it was for Isaak. It was in part for Poppy. But he’d done it for himself. He was done lying. He was done pretending he didn’t feel.
He thanked his son for that. For waiting for him. For showing him he could lie down. He could let himself rest. He could let himself…feel.
He thanked her too. For loving him—for trying to get him to open himself to love.
He hadn’t been ready to love her.
He was ready now.
He’d hurt her, he knew.
He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.
He didn’t deserve her love.
But he hoped she’d seen him. That Léon had shown her. That she understood what today meant. That she realised their son… Isaak…and Poppy, they had changed him. Going forward—
He stumbled. The revolving doors to the outside were just there. A few more steps, and his journey going forward would be different. He would be alone. Again. But everything was changed now, he knew.
He could never go back to being the man he’d been. Either man. His father’s son or the man he’d created to counter it. His DNA.
He’d just be whatever this was. Whoever he was. He would just be it. A man who…felt. A man who allowed himself to feel. And right now, he felt hollowed out. He knew what would fill the void. He knew it would only be her. It was only ever her. But he knew he couldn’t fix what he’d done.
It was out of his control now.
Life, it always had been.
He was not a god.
He was not the devil.
Konstantinos pushed through the revolving doors.
Cameras flashed in his face.
Security surrounded him, and led him through the throng to his waiting car.
His gaze drifted over the journalists being pushed behind a barrier—
He stopped dead. Statue-still.
She was…here. In grey sweats, her hair in a loose pony-tail…
‘Poppy,’ he breathed.
She was being pushed back with the others as if she were no one to him. As if she weren’t his—
His heart dropped to his stomach.
She wasn’t his wife any more.
He could keep walking, couldn’t he? He could look away from her too round, too blue eyes. He could walk away and pretend it did not hurt to see her there. That it did not pain him she stood so far away when his arms ached to hold her.
Or, he could be honest.
He could show her he was human.
He was just a man.
He pushed free of the guards. Step by step, he made his way to her. Stood in front of her.
His insides screamed he was still too far.
‘I’m sorry,’ he husked as the crowds fell away, and it was just her. Her big blue eyes looking up at him. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you, Poppy. I’m—’
‘We should go inside. The cameras,’ she said, as if it was urgent, as if this moment was not what he wanted the world to see.
He didn’t care.
‘Let them see,’ he said. ‘Let them all know I love my…my wife.’
‘We’re not married any more,’ she said quietly.
‘I am glad we are not.’
She flinched.
‘It is over. The past. But I want to learn from it. I… Forgive me, Poppy,’ he demanded because he knew it was what he needed now.
Her forgiveness.
Her love.
‘If we could try again,’ he continued too quickly—too breathlessly. ‘A fresh start. A real one this time. We could get married again, Poppy. We could start again. Have a family. I want a family with you.’ His heart pumped. So hard. So fast.
‘I love you.’
Poppy started to cry.
She hid her face behind her hands.
Arms came around her. Big and strong.
‘Oh, Konstantinos.’
‘Everything is going to be okay, Poppy.’
She buried her face into his chest. Into the solidity of him. And she sobbed.
Konstantinos was her safe place.
He was telling her it was okay.
Everything would be okay.
And she believed him.
She lifted her face and he looked down into hers. Poppy raised her hands on his shoulders, raised herself on her tiptoes.
‘I love you,’ she said, and she kissed him.
They kissed each other.
Not for the camera.
Not for those watching.
They kissed for the only people who mattered.
Them.