28. Indie #2
“I hope so,” I say, returning her smile, before Petra’s father pours more ouzo into my glass.
One more won’t hurt.
“The air feels sooooo good,” I slur, definitely drunk now. I shouldn’t have done that last shot of ouzo, but I was determined to keep up with the family. Big mistake.
Petra walks with her arm linked through mine, mostly to steady each other as we’re both giggling lushes right now.
Demetri walks behind us like some guard dog, singing softly in Greek as we walk back toward my hotel.
It’s late, the moon guiding our path as people wander the streets back to their destinations.
A hot shower and my comfortable bed are practically calling my name.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Afternoon,” I answer Petra, breathing in deeply and trying to soak in as much of Santorini as I can. “I’d like to get to the airport around noon.”
“We’ll do breakfast beforehand,” Petra says, before she pouts and wraps both arms around my arm. “I’m going to miss you, my friend.”
“You’ll just have to visit then,” I say, leaning my head against hers on my shoulder. “I’ll show you around Cape May.”
“Deal!” Petra squeals before glancing over her shoulder at her husband. “Demetri, can we go visit Indie in New Jersey?”
“I’d take you to the moon if you asked, αγ?πη μου,” Demetri chuckles. “New Jersey should be doable—”
Demetri’s voice cuts off.
A long pause stretches behind us.
When I go to look over my shoulder at him, he’s already right behind us, his expression no longer relaxed or amused. His voice is low and severe when he speaks.
“Ladies, keep walking. There is a man following us.”
I don’t know how, but I just know who. I stop in my tracks, ignoring Petra and Demetri’s protests, and turn.
And there he is.
“Is that the prick?” Petra asks, squinting to see him.
“You know him?” Demetri asks me, keeping his eyes on the shadowy figure.
“Yes,” I sigh. “I know him.”
Teddy sees me looking at him, realizing he’s been caught. I almost laugh dryly when he gives the same awkward wave and smile combination he gave me in London.
I had almost wondered if he had given up, gone back to America, tired of following me and drawing for me when I had given him nothing in return.
That thought had hurt, which annoyed me, because I had put up with so much for him for months, and my stupid little heart had apparently started keeping score, wondering if he couldn’t even last a few weeks.
An immature, wounded thought, I’m aware.
But, no Teddy is here, in Santorini. He didn’t leave. He didn’t go home. He followed me through this entire trip.
He’s dressed in a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers on his feet. Backward cap on his head. And even in the dim light, I can see how tired his eyes are, the dark circles under them. The sight makes me ache. Makes me want to take care of him.
“Do you want me to get rid of him?” Demetri asks, stepping in front of Petra and me in a protective stance. He’s tall like Teddy, but more wiry than bulky. Though I imagine if it were Petra on the line, he’d be able to take on an army himself.
I shake my head. “No, Demetri, it’s alright. It’s just my ex-boyfriend.”
“That doesn’t inspire confidence,” Demetri snorts. “You sure you don’t want me to toss him into the sea? I’m stronger than I look—tell her, Petra.”
“Yes, yes, you’re a regular Kratos,” Petra says, rolling her eyes and giggling when Demetri scoffs in offense.
“I’m good,” I assure them, turning back to Teddy.
He doesn’t step toward me. He just stands there, hands in his pockets, as if he’s waiting for instruction or for me to move again. It’s almost as if he’s putting purposeful distance between us, waiting for me to choose.
And I know that this might be the last opportunity I have to talk to him. He’ll go back to Chicago. I’ll go to New Jersey. And that will be that.
But I think of Sebastian’s words, how I’m owed answers, and how I feel right now—confident, powerful, and more than a little buzzed on ouzo.
Drunk minds speak sober thoughts.
And I have a lot to get off my chest.
“I will see you tomorrow,” I tell them, and Petra and Demetri share a look before turning back to me.
“Are you sure?” Petra asks.
“I need to do this,” I whisper.
Petra’s eyes turn understanding, and she nods before pulling me into a hug.
“Don’t give the μαλ?κα an inch unless you offer first,” Petra hisses. “And if he acts like a fool, cut some inches off of him.”
I laugh, squeezing my tiny but mighty friend tightly. “Will do.”
Demetri hugs me then, “You need us, you call, and we’ll come running.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
They give me one last look before Demetri wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulders and they head home. They pass by Teddy, who gives them a nod. Demetri returns it after a moment of hesitation, but Petra just hisses at him like a cat.
Amusement strikes me briefly at that, my protective little friend, before Teddy turns to me with those big green eyes.
Turning, I continue walking down the street, my hotel in sight. I feel more than hear or see Teddy following me, like he’s tethered to me.
He’s watching me, and in the light from the hotel, I can see that there’s hope in his eyes now. I stare at him for a long moment, wondering if I’m truly ready for this conversation. My mind answers for me with a resounding yes.
I nod toward the hotel, and Teddy’s eyes widen, his expression giving everything away—relief, love, hope, fear. I then spin on my heel and walk inside, feeling him follow me into the lobby, up the stairs, and toward my room.
My spine straightens with every step I take, determined and resolved.
Let’s see if he can actually listen to me.