She takes a deep breath and nods, then contradicts herself with a shake of her head. “Yes. No. Both.” She shrugs. “It’s a big deal. First Demetria, now Mark. By tomorrow, the entire staff will know and then…”
I study her expression, suddenly struck by the magnitude of what just happened. In all my focus on my own journey, I’ve somehow missed how Athena’s reality is transforming alongside mine. For a woman who’s spent her life hiding this part of herself, each revelation is its own kind of rebirth.
“Are you worried your mom will find out?”
“If I’m out and openly dating a woman, even if it’s just in Vegas, she’ll find out one way or another,” Athena says as we continue our walk toward the food court. “I’m not exactly a celebrity, but there are charity galas and events where I get photographed or mentioned in those society pages my mother loves to read.” She gestures to a trio of well-dressed older men being escorted to the high-limit area. “It’s a small world. The wealthy Greeks all know each other, and they love to gossip. They also love to gamble, and when they do…” She gestures around us. “They come here.”
“I’ve really complicated your life,” I say. “I’m only now realizing to what extent.”
“No.” She smiles and waves it off. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. You haven’t complicated my life, you’ve enriched it. And whatever happens, happens. I’ll deal with it when the time comes.”
FIFTY-FOUR
ATHENA
I’m sitting in Ruby’s kitchen, watching with fascination as she chops mushrooms. She insisted on cooking for me and wouldn’t accept my help. Although it’s adorable, it’s hard not to step in as I’ve never seen anyone chopping the way she does. The way she holds the knife alone is enough to question if she’s ever cooked a meal in her life. Mushrooms and burrata on toasted ciabatta with a side salad. Not exactly complicated, but she’s making it look like a science experiment.
“Be careful, I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” I warn her. “Do you want me to turn on the grill for the ciabatta?”
“No, I’m fine. Just stay there and relax. I’ve got this.” She chuckles as she fiddles with the buttons on the oven and shoves in a whole loaf of ciabatta without slicing and oiling it first. “I’m determined.”
I’m about to step in anyway when my phone buzzes. Demetria’s name lights up the screen, and I smile, welcoming the distraction before Ruby can accuse me of being a control freak. I’ve been talking to Demetria moreregularly since her visit—quick texts, voice messages exchanged, and late-night calls.
“It’s my sister,” I tell Ruby, who nods encouragingly. Our relationship is still new enough that these small domestic moments feel significant—standing in her kitchen while she cooks, taking personal calls in her space, the casual intimacy of our daily routines intertwining.
“Hey, Dem,” I answer. “What’s up, sis?”
“Athena!” My sister’s voice is breathless with excitement. “I have news,” she starts in Greek. “Big news.”
“Oh? Everything okay?” I wedge my phone between my ear and my shoulder so I can open the bottle of wine I brought.
“More than okay. I’m getting married!”
“You’re what?” The wine bottle nearly slips from my hand. I set it down carefully, exchanging a glance with Ruby, who’s paused her chopping and studies me curiously.
“She’s getting married,” I whisper to her, then focus my attention back to Demetria. “To Julian?”
“Of course to Julian. Who else?”
I clear my throat and try to inject some enthusiasm into my voice. “Sorry. That was a silly question. And congratulations, I’m super happy for you both.” My little sister is getting married to someone I’ve never met, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. But it’s my own fault, I suppose. I haven’t exactly been around much. “I’m just surprised,” I continue. “When you were here last month, you didn’t mention it once.”
“Well, he asked me, and I said yes.” Demetria pauses. “You really are happy for me, right? I need you to be supportive, Athena.”
“I am, I promise,” I lie, my eyes widening as I meetRuby’s gaze. “But I’d better plan a trip to meet him first. When’s the wedding? Do you have a date yet?”
“It’s next week,” she says with a chuckle. “At Mom’s yacht club in Santorini.”
I blink rapidly as I process this. “Next week? Dem, you can’t be serious. Why so soon?”
“It’s not that soon,” she says defensively. “Julian and I have been dating for six months.”
To me, that sounds incredibly rushed, but I keep that thought to myself. Despite the shock, it somehow doesn’t surprise me all that much. Demetria has always been incredibly impulsive. The youngest who dared to take big risks because everyone was always there to protect her and clean up the mess when things went south. I’m not worried about Julian getting his hands on the family money; that’s all under my control, and Demetria gets a generous payout every month. No, I’m worried about her heart, about becoming stuck in a life she regrets with a man she doesn’t know that well. But who am I to judge? I haven’t known Ruby for long, but it feels right, like I’ve made a choice for life. Perhaps it’s the same with them.
“We just decided—why wait? Life is too short for long engagements,” she continues. “And I’m not worried about the short notice. No one will want to miss a Stavros wedding. Our guests will bend over backwards to be there, no matter what, because it’s going to be epic!”
“I have no doubt. The yacht club? Mom must have pulled a lot of strings to make that happen. How many guests are you inviting?”
“Their capacity is three hundred, so we’re keeping it intimate,” Demetria says in all seriousness. “Two-hundred-and-fifty guests for me and Mom and fifty for Julian, although he probably won’teven hit that number.
