“Did Chrysanthos leave? I told him...”
The words dissolved.
Theó mou.
Dede sat at our family table, coffee cup halfway to her lips, those brown eyes I’d memorized locking with mine across china and fresh flowers.
Time fractured. Slowed. A freight train of recognition bore down while my body remained frozen in the doorway.
“Father,” Chrysanthos said, his voice pulling me back into real-time. He switched to English. “This is Deanna White. Tia’s mother.”
Deanna.
Not Dede. Deanna.
My gaze cut to Tia. The young woman who’d been living under my roof, whose architectural drawings I’d approved, whose shy smile now reminded me unsettlingly of the woman beside her. Chrysanthos sat on her other side, his bandaged hand cradled in hers, their bodies angled toward each other in the way of reconciled lovers.
When I spoke, my voice carried none of the chaos ricocheting through my skull. “Ms. White. A pleasure. I hope you have found our home comfortable, yes.”
I moved to the table and took my usual seat. The woman I’d been sleeping with for two months was my son’s future mother-in-law.
“Very.” Dede’s voice held the faintest tremor, audible only because I’d learned the cadence of her breath in darkness. “Your family has been most welcoming.”
Our eyes held for a fraction too long. I saw her as she’d been two nights ago straddling me, fingers gripping my shoulders, head thrown back in ecstasy, and teeth catching her lower lip as I brought her to climax.
“How are you finding Greece, Ms. White?” Kostas’s question cut through my sexual thoughts.
“Please call me Deanna,” she said
“Mom only arrived yesterday,” Tia added, drawing my full attention.
“Yesterday?” I echoed, unable to keep the pointed emphasis from my voice.
I caught her silent plea not to expose her deception. Whatever game we were playing now required discretion, at least until we could speak privately.
Kayla stood suddenly, tapping her glass with a spoon. Everyone quieted and turned their attention to her.
“Since everyone’s here, I have an announcement.” Kayla looked down at Kostas. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”
The room erupted. My mother clapped, her face transformed with joy. Aunt Irida stood and disappeared toward the kitchen, muttering about lunch preparations. Dimitrios pulled Kostas into a rough embrace while Chrysanthos and Tia offered their congratulations.
I raised my coffee cup, adding my own well-wishes. This baby secured more than our family’s joy. Thalassía’s deed would finally return fully to Christakis’ hands.
“Children are life’s greatest blessing,” Dede offered.
“They are,” I agreed, our eyes meeting briefly before we both looked away.
Breakfast stretched interminably, each moment an exercise in restraint. I observed how Dede interacted with my mother, responded to Dimi’s charm, and assessed Chrysanthos with maternal scrutiny. She fit seamlessly into my family, which was the most unsettling realization of all.
Chrysanthos and Tia slipped away, and I envied their ability to escape. Dede remained trapped at the table by my mother’s enthusiastic questions about her skincare routine.
“Ms. White. Can I have word with you in private?” I maintained a neutral tone, though I caught Kayla and Kostas exchanging knowing glances. They’d both been at the restaurant a few nights ago when I’d arrived with Dede.
Dede followed me through the west corridor to my private study. Only after the heavy oak door was secured and we stood surrounded by first editions and antiquities did her composure fracture.
“I thought your last name was Kyriakis this whole time.”
“I told you Christakis the day we met.”
