“Yes, Joe. He’s a good man to have around. Dimitriou is fortunate to have him.”
Darius. Eve rubbed her chest again and couldn’t meet her parents’ gazes.
“How did you guys get here so quickly?”
“Darius flew us here on his jet,” her mother said. “He said he knew you’d need us.”
“That young man has been quite attentive.” Eve’s father watched her, his expression contemplative.
A part of her wanted to ask where Darius was. Another part couldn’t forget the emotional agony and sense of abandonment she’d felt on that long ago almost-wedding day. If he was the kind of man who could cause pain like that, she didn’t care where he was.
No. That wasn’t true. Shedidcare. Too much. But she couldn’t bring herself to talk about it.
“How long have I been here?” Eve asked again instead.
“They kept you pretty heavily sedated for forty-eight hours,” her mother said, shooting her husband a concerned glance. “They needed to keep you calm so you didn’t strain your heart while you cleared the drugs from your system.”
When would Darius leave? There wasn’t really any reason for him to stay now that Eve’s parents were there. She told herself she was glad. If he were gone, she didn’t have to face him again.
“Your grandfather has invited you to stay with him while you recuperate.” Her father’s carefully neutral tone made Eve look at him.
“Have you been to your old home?” she asked.
“No.”
“Do you plan to go there?”
Eve’s father studied his hands like she’d seen him do when she was growing up, a behavior he fell back on when he wanted to choose his words carefully. She didn’t wait for him to say he wouldn’t go there.
“Dad, all my life I’ve had harsh feelings against my grandfather because of the way he treated you. I still believe he was wrong to throw you away like that. You’ve never used those exact words, but whenever you’d lose your temper and rage about what a terrible father he’d been, they’re the ones that came to my mind.” Her father looked up, and Eve met his gaze, saying, “I’ve always promised myself there was no way I’d ever do that to a child of mine.”
“And?” Her father knew her well, and his tone was defensive.
“It wasn’t until I sat beside his bed and saw what a shell of a man he was—a man who looked like an older version ofyou—that I realized you’d thrown him away too.”
Her father’s face flushed, and he stiffened, but her mother reached out and put a calming hand on his arm.
“Listen to her, Bruce,” she whispered.
“Et tu, Brute?” He pulled away from my mother, his bitter voice rough with betrayal.
“Dad, I understand that he hurt you. I know it was hard for you when you came to the States and had to make it on your own. But I also believe you’re the man you are because of what you had to overcome.”
“What, are you saying I should forgive him?” His brogue had turned heavy.
“I’m not excusing what he did, but it’s been over forty years.” Eve lifted a shaky hand. “People can change. I doubt that either you or your father are the same men you were back then. I wish you’d talk to him. Forgiveness wouldn’t be for him; it’d be foryou.”
He gave aharrumphand started pacing the room again.
A dreadful weariness settled on Eve, weighing her down. With it came a surge of emotion, of grief, fear, and sadness. Her eyes burned, her throat thickening.
“Daddy,” she managed to croak out.
He was at her side in a flash. He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek.
“I almostdied.” Eve started to cry. “I don’t want you or your father to die without at least trying to make peace with each other. Please do this for me.”
Her father’s shoulders began to shake, and her mother put her arm around him.
