“I’m coming home,” I said flatly.
A beat of silence followed. “Oh honey, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Maybe they just want revisions?”
“No, Mom.” I folded a blouse with force. “I’ll book a flight for tonight.”
“Tonight?” Her voice pitched higher. “That seems... hasty. Why not take a few days to reconsider?”
I frowned at her strange insistence. “Mom, are you okay? I thought you’d be happy I’m coming home.”
“Of course I am! It’s just—” she stammered, “I’m actually still in St Lucia. The house is empty.”
My suspicion grew. Mom told me she’d returned to the States weeks ago.
“When did you—”
The door burst open without warning. Santo stood in the doorway, breathless and disheveled, his chest heaving as if he’d sprinted the entire way from the study.
“Mom, I’ll call you back,” I said quickly, disconnecting before she could protest.
“What are you doing?” His eyes darted from my folded clothes on the bed, then fixed on my tear-stained face. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
“I’m going home.” I folded another shirt, avoiding his gaze.
Santo moved toward me, closing the distance between us, his hand catching my wrist. “No.” The word was simple, but absolute.
“Go away, Santo.”
His mouth captured mine, silencing all protests. I tasted espresso and felt the slight scratch of stubble against my skin.
This kiss demanded surrender. His hands framed my face, thumbs brushing away the lingering wetness of tears as he deepened the connection.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were fierce. “You’re not running away, aggelé mou. I won’t let you.”
“I can’t keep doing this with your ex,” I said. “I was a fool to even think…”
“What Tia?”
To my chagrin, hot tears spilled down my cheeks despite my determination to hold them back. “We would work out.”
His fingers nudged my chin upward until I was looking directly into blue eyes that reminded me of the Aegean on cloudless days. “We are working, aggelé mou. Kat is jealous. She’slashing out and doing everything to make you disappear. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”
“This is the worst thing that ever happened to me,” I blubbered, the words catching on sobs.
“No it’s not, aggelé mou. You beat cancer. You can take on anything Katalina throws at you.”
“I don’t want to keep fighting her, Santo.”
A soft chime from my phone broke through our conversation. I sighed, reaching for it under my half-packed suitcase.
“I need to take my pill,” I murmured, unlocking my phone to silence the daily reminder.
Santo watched as I grabbed the small pill container from my purse. “What kind of pills?”
I held up the case. “The kind that ensures I don’t return to the States with a Christakis legacy inside me.”
His eyebrows shot up, and for a moment, he looked surprised. Then his expression morphed into one of mock offense as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“You mean you don’t want to bear my child? I’m wounded, aggelé mou.”
