“Bruno is more of a log than a dog,” Andreas said.
His hand was close to hers. It would be so easy to reach out, slide her fingers through his.
“I love it here,” she murmured. “I feel safe, I guess. As if I’m finally in the right place.”
“That is exactly how I felt the first time I came to the island,” Andreas said, though his words were weighed down. There was something below the surface, a barrier that had not been there before. Skye held back as they drew closer to what remained of Karolos’s house, but Andreas pressed on. He crouched and began to root through the rubble with his fingers, tossing aside chunks of masonry and broken picture frames. A flash of gold caught Skye’s eye.
“Is that another idol?” she asked.
“Saint Nektarios, the miracle worker.” Andreas lifted the small treasure, used his thumb to wipe away the dust. “This was my fault,” he said. “I knew it was unsafe. I should have forced the old man to let me do the work.”
“No, no.” Skye was beside him in an instant. “How could you ever have known what would happen?”
Andreas shook his head.
“It was an act of nature,” she insisted.
Filiá picked her way past them, nosing through the debris. A moment later, she froze, her tail upright, rigid. Skye moved to comfort her, but the dog shied away, sticking her muzzle in the air and letting out a mournful-sounding howl.
Andreas got shakily to his feet. They stood, facing each other.
“It’s not your fault,” she said. Slowly, she moved toward him. Placed her hand against his chest. Pressed until she felt his heart. It was beating out of time.
“I was distracted,” he said, his own hand coming up, his thumb finding her cheek.
Skye’s mouth went dry.
“Distracted by what?” she whispered.
The way he touched her cast her adrift from herself.
Andreas moved his thumb softly over her lips.
“You,” he said. “Always you.”
He leaned closer, but Skye jerked away.
“What is the matter?” Andreas asked, his arms falling limply to his sides.
“You were angry at me,” Skye said, unable to keep her tone neutral. “Why?”
He kicked at a stone, swore.
“Éla, because you did not trust me. I told you about my brother, Sotiris, and still, you sent me away.”
“That was because I was scared. In that moment, I wanted to confide in someone that I knew would understand, not fly off the handle.”
“What is ‘fly off the handle’?”
“It’s when someone loses their temper, gets angry. It’s what Martyn did all the time; it’s what men doall the time.”
Andreas opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you,” Skye said. “It wasn’t really about you at all. It was about me. What I needed in that moment. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do. I—I’ve missed you.”
Andreas took a breath, fixed her with a steady gaze.
“And I’ve told you now,” she went on. “About Martyn, about all of it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
