Ruby leans into my touch. Last night, she slept in my room, in my bed. No sneaking around, no pretending.
“Do you think your mother will ever fully accept us?” Ruby asks.
“I think she already does, in her own way,” I say. “Acceptance for her doesn’t look like rainbow flags and pride parades. It looks like making sureyou have the right pillow and that you’re included in family affairs.” I brush a strand of hair from her face, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, and my mother’s worldview won’t change overnight. But we’re still speaking, so I’m counting it as a win.”
We’re interrupted by a knock on the open door, and Nikos stands there. “Ms. Stavros, the car is ready whenever you are.”
“Thank you, Nikos. We’ll be down in a moment.”
We gather our bags and make our way downstairs. As we step out onto the terrace, I’m greeted by the sight of my mother, Demetria, Julian, his parents, and his best man enjoying a leisurely lunch. Aunt Ana is there too, gesturing wildly while she dominates the conversation.
Demetria spots us first and waves us over. She’s still in her silk pajamas, looking more like my sister than the elegant bride of yesterday.
“We’re off,” I announce, setting our bags down by the door.
Julian rises from his seat to give us a hug. “Thank you both for being here. It meant the world to us, and it was great to meet you.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” Demetria asks. She gestures to the empty chairs. “We’re just having lunch before Julian’s parents leave, and we’re not going on our honeymoon until tomorrow.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t,” I reply. “We both have work, but we’ll stay for longer next time.”
Demetria pouts playfully, then brightens. “Well, I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with gaining such a fabulous sister-in-law.” She beams at Ruby. “Or should I say, future sister-in-law? I’m not quite sure what the protocol is when there’s no ring yet.”
Ruby blushes but laughs, taking Demetria’s teasing in stride. “Whatever you want to call me, I’m honored.”
Aunt Ana rises from her chair, coming over to embrace me. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” she says, kissing both my cheeks. “You’ve certainly given us something to talk about.”
I can’t help but smile at her tone—half-scandalized, half-delighted. Ana has always thrived on gossip, especially when it involves her wealthier sister’s family. This week must be like Christmas for her.
Ruby moves to the table. “I wish we could stay today,” she says with a sigh. “The sea looks so clear. I’d love to take a dip, but I have some very big deadlines coming up.”
My mother rises from her seat, smoothing down her linen dress as she approaches us. “Then we’ll see you soon,” she says. “You’re always welcome here.” She pauses, and then—remarkably—a small, almost humorous smile plays at the corners of her mouth. “And you can sleep in Athena’s room next time.”
The significance of her statement is not lost on anyone present. It’s as close to a blessing as my mother can manage.
Ruby’s eyes widen briefly before she recovers with a playful smirk. “Well, guess what? I already did,” she replies, the hint of mischief in her voice sending a ripple of surprised laughter around the table.
Even my mother chuckles, and I close the distance between us to hug her.
“Thank you, Mom,” I say. “For everything.” The words carry more weight than their simplicity suggests.
I’m grateful for her love, for her acceptance, reluctant as it may be. For the cracks in her walls of denial, for her willingness to grow beyond the boundaries of her upbringing. For choosing love over tradition, for welcoming Ruby into our family.
My mother hugs me back longer than she ever has. Then, with the dignity that has carried her through all of life’s challenges—my father’s death, raising two headstrong daughters alone, navigating the expectations of Greek society—she straightens her shoulders and dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief embroidered with our family monogram.
“Your father would be proud of you,” she says softly. The words catch me off guard, piercing straight through my defenses. “He always said you were the strongest of us all.” She touches my cheek briefly. “I will need some time to get comfortable with this, Athena. But you are my daughter, and I love you. Nothing changes that.”
I step back and swallow down the lump in my throat. In this family, we navigate our emotions through the safe channels of ritual and propriety. Some habits die hard, even in moments of revelation.
She nods once, a sharp dip of her chin, and steps back into her role.
“We need to leave now if we’re going to make our flight,” I say, and Demetria jumps up and envelops me in a fierce hug. I place my hand on her belly, smiling down at the small bump. “Make sure you eat well. We need Junior to grow strong and healthy.”
“Junior?” Demetria laughs. “We’re thinking Hunter for a boy, Juliet for a girl.”
My mother’s gasp is audible. “Hunter? Juliet?” She shakes her head vigorously. “Absolutely not. The baby will have a proper Greek name. Perhaps Alexandros after your father, or Sophia if it’s a girl.”
So much for my mother’s newfound restraint. Her moment of emotional vulnerability lasted all of fiveminutes before she snapped back to her usual self—opinionated, unstoppable, and utterly convinced of her rightness in all matters.
