He crossed his arms across his chest. “Everything has changed. There is no reason for you not to be independent now, to follow your dreams knowing that you are safe and Nick is being looked after.”
“It’s great news, but I don’t really get what you’re saying.”
“I thought you might want to get back to university now, to make something of yourself, boost your self-esteem. You’ve only been away from it for a short while and perhaps you could pick up where you left off. Being a meek little Greek wife was never something you wanted, was it? You said so enough times, especially when the subject of getting Nick christened came up.”
“I felt very strongly that he wasn’t christened. We didn’t have an orthodox wedding and neither of us are religious so—”
His reply was sharp. “Our wedding just served a purpose, we both know that.”
He was building that emotional wall up again, and she sensed he wasn’t going to let her climb over any more. “And that wedding wasn’t real, I haven’t forgotten. It was just a contract, right?”
“Yes. And it occurred to me that you might like a house of your own to live in, somewhere more convenient to the university in Rethymnon if you went back to your studies. That way you can enjoy the social life and not get distracted from your work. I would pay all the course fees up front for you, naturally, and Nick would only be a short journey away with me and the nannies. Or we can leave things exactly as they are, but you now have the choice to do your own thing as your lives aren’t under threat. It’s up to you.”
Her own house? Greek wives didn’t live in different houses from their husbands. But, of course, she wasn’t a “real” wife, and now she felt much more like a mistress with access to her lover’s charge card. It hit her like a bullet train right in the face: he was trying to get rid of her after all that had happened, to distance himself. And then she paused to think rationally. What had actually happened? She and Nick had been sick. They all three had been in hiding, and to stave off the boredom of it all she and Tito had indulged in lots and lots of sex. He probably wasn’t that attracted to her after all, just scratching that itch he had referred to because there was no other discreet outlet. And she had practically forced herself on him the first time, hadn’t she? She felt degraded. He was bored with her already. She wasn’t good enough for him to want her around him anymore. All the nasty things the women in black had been whispering in her ear were coming true. This really hurt…
Erica’s mind was reeling, but she also felt confused and angry. She could see what was happening but felt helpless to stop it. Tito was trying to maneuver her almost back to square one, to a situation where she would be potentially separated from her son. Was this how he planned it all along? Now she was in Crete and had no allies and nowhere to run she was even more vulnerable than when she was pole dancing. She might have money in the bank, but she only had his word for it, and he could easily not put in a penny more if she didn’t do as she was told. She chose her words carefully. “I’m not sure that I want what you’re suggesting.”
“Then perhaps you should consider your options now that the scenario has changed. There are lots of way to play this that will ensure your happiness and Nick’s welfare.” Still he wouldn’t look her in the eye, and she felt cold in spite of the fierce Cretan sun. “We are only here now because of Nick, after all.”
She had been played like a fool, having adapted to her new environment and stupidly fallen in love with her husband along the way. For a second she almost blurted the fact out, but common sense and pride stopped her. He would be horrified if she suddenly came out and said she loved him because that was never the deal and surely the changes he had just suggested were a dignified way of easing her out of his and, gradually, Nick’s life? It was clear that Tito wanted Nick as his adopted son, but, yet again, she wasn’t good enough to feature in his plans and the rejection was unbearable.
“You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?” she said suddenly and the harsh words even shocked her. “You’re bored with me, and you’re giving me a way out of your life without humiliating me completely. But you want to keep my son…”
Tito looked at her with eyes the color of a wild green sea. “No, that’s not entirely true. I want what’s best for everyone right now and in the future. We’re very different people, you and I. You’re a free spirit, and I have to respect that. I’m giving you options, that’s all. And you don’t need to shout.”
“No, we mustn’t embarrass anyone in a public place because that would be disastrous.” She shook out her hair belligerently. “I forgot the only place you’re not reserved and anything but ridiculously polite is in the bedroom. It’s a struggle for you outside of your comfort zone, so I do apologize.”
He looked irritated as he pressed his lips together and stared out across the ocean, and for a moment she was glad to be getting on his nerves. He hadn’t tried to soothe or calm her, and why was that? Because he found it hard to express his feelings or some fictional excuse like that? No. She was nothing to him and he simply didn’t care. It was all about Nick and the future of a country that she had no stake in. It always had been, and it was her fault that she’d been carried away with the danger and romance of it all.
He finally spoke. “Nobody is forcing you to do anything you don’t want to, Erica, and you may not believe me but I do want you to be happy.”
“Really?” How could he say that when her heart was silently breaking? Couldn’t he see what was happening inside her? The only man she had ever loved was rejecting her, just like everybody else had. Apart from Nick, but maybe that would happen one day too, especially if she took him away from the wonderful life he would enjoy as a wealthy boy in Crete.
“I don’t think playing housewife with me here will make you happy for very long. It would be like getting a young racehorse to give kids rides on the beach every day. You’ll get bored and frustrated, and you need to do something more.”
More feeble excuses. “It’s great you know what’s good for me,” she said roughly.
“And being in a place of your own would make it easier for you to meet other people. It was unrealistic of me to think you could go without finding someone to love until Nick is grown up. You can be discreet and the way things are going I think we might be able to divorce sooner. The Frangos women have accepted you—as much as they can as an outsider— and nobody is going to stop you seeing your son now. I will do everything necessary to smooth the path, but things are not nearly as bad as I had anticipated they would be before all this started.”
Erica wanted to scream that she had already found somebody to love. She loved him, Tito Makris, her legally wedded husband, and there would never be anyone who would even come close. But the fact he was so earnestly trying to farm her out and encouraging her to find someone else made his true feelings quite clear. He didn’t love her back, and that was that. “Are you seeing someone else already?” she said quietly and then pursed her lips together tightly. “Wasn’t I exciting enough for you? Couldn’t you wait just one week for me to get home?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered and looked at his feet. “I’m not seeing anyone else and have no intention of doing so.”
“But your castle was never meant to be my home, was it? Just yours and Nick’s. I can’t believe I was too stupid to not see it all along. And it’s not your fault you were only the second man I’d ever slept with. I only did it once with Yannis, and we were drunk so I don’t actually remember much. My inexperience must be glaringly obvious to a man of the world like you.”
Tito had grown very pale and his breathing appeared to be more rapid. “Erica you are and always will be someone very special in my life.”
“Bullshit. So special you want me to move out and stop embarrassing you? Give me a break. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“I wasn’t saying anything like that. You can do what you like. I was only making suggestions, tossing around some options. I’m making a mess of this, I�
��m sorry.”
She had to get this situation pinned. “So are you saying you don’t really want me to leave? That I can stay for the next twenty years as Mrs. Makris and learn how to make the best spinach pies you ever tasted? Are you saying that perhaps one day you might grow to love me like a real wife?”
He took a step backward and swayed for a moment, shaking his head with a sad look on his face. She’d thrown everything she had at him in the hope it would force any feelings he had for her to the surface. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. You know I won’t make promises I can’t keep. You also know what I think about marriage.”
The hurt made her voice sound spiteful and that made her feel even worse. “Yes, I know. You told me so many times, and I don’t think you can even say the word love to a woman let alone feel it.”
“I love Nick and that’s all that matters right now.”
Her chin dropped to her chest. This was a fight she couldn’t win. You couldn’t force someone to say they love you when they didn’t, but she had given him the biggest opportunity she knew how. Now she had to accept the situation and move on somehow. “Okay, I know when I’m beaten. We can work something out.”
A dark voice in her head, one that was a mixture of Valeta, Khloris, and her mother, suddenly told her very clearly and very loudly that she had been deluding herself for years; she really was no good. Her child was always going to be better off without her, couldn’t she finally see?
Erica battled the voice, but the rational side of her brain took over where the spite and evil left off. Fact one: it would be cruel to snatch her little boy’s happy new lifestyle away to protect her own heart and pride. He had been thriving in Greece, and it would be best for him to stay. Fact two: if she was strong and selfless and really cared she would leave him to his new life to be brought up by people much better than her and hope he would understand why she had done that when he was an adult. It was very hard to deny the facts…
She should look Tito in the eye for what she was about to say, but she couldn’t because she didn’t want him to see her cry. “I’ll consider my options, and I will still agree to you adopting Nick, but I need closure from all this if I’m to move on with my life. I want an immediate divorce.”
Chapter Fifteen
Erica sat by the edge of the infinity pool set high up in the ramparts of Tito’s castle and stared out at the Aegean Sea. The sun began to sink and glow a red gold color, and her heart had already sunk as low as it could ever get. She needed time and space to think and cry privately over everything she had lost and was about to lose.
Tito had pushed Nick back home in his buggy with a grip so fierce she imagined the plastic handles might bend out of shape, and it was an indication that he was never going to let go of Yannis’s son. They hadn’t spoken another word to each other, and the feeling it left with her was horrible. The honeymoon was over. Everything felt over. She had asked for an immediate divorce, and he hadn’t even tried to dissuade her. He wanted Nick, that was all.
For the next few hours back in the castle she had tried to keep everything as normal as possible: feeding Nick, giving him a bath, and reading him a story before bedtime. Those few hours had been gut-wrenching as the dark voice sneered in her head that this was the last time she should be doing any of those things. And Tito’s words came back to her from that first morning in London: he’s still tiny. He won’t remember. No, if she did what everyone wanted her to do, he wouldn’t remember the mother who walked out on him because she decided he would have a better life without her. He wouldn’t know how much she loved him, and he wouldn’t remember her, but he would despise her. Then the Greeks would have got what they wanted all along—her son. Forever.
Am I strong enough to leave my baby? Is it the right thing to do?
She felt she might be physically sick. A sudden movement caught her eye. A flock of swifts circled in the air above, swooping and diving to catch insects before nightfall. She noticed one break away and disappear into the ramparts of the castle. Shielding her eyes from the rays of the sun she could now see a mud nest between the stones and the mother bird’s tail bobbing up and down as she fed her brood. Perhaps it was just coincidence to see such a thing happening right there and then, like the robin appearing in Gibraltar. But maybe it was a message. Maybe she was sick in the head with grief and despair. Whatever the answer, Erica knew she had to go to her son.
Erica crept quietly back into Nick’s nursery. The window shutters were closed and a nightlight cast a soft glow over Nick’s cot. The room smelled of lemon and marshmallows and felt like a warm cocoon.
Nick was so peaceful lying there. He looked well fed, rosy-cheeked and healthy a week on from his critical illness. Erica felt a lot better too physically; they had been lucky to get treatment that was effective so quickly, but her eyes were scratchy and puffy from letting herself cry. She wanted to kiss and hug him close but didn’t have the heart to wake him. Not yet.
Fatigued from distress, she ran the palms of her hands up and over her forehead to scrape her hair off her face and then noticed something different on the chest of drawers at the end of the room. She took a few steps closer. It was a document folder and handwritten on the front was forms for signature. The script was in small neat capital letters and in a perfect straight line. The style of the writing was so Tito that she almost wanted to laugh, but then she remembered what he was trying to do to her, what he was trying to take. He wanted the most precious thing she had, and she should hate him for that, not laugh. There was a ballpoint pen next to the folder: black ink. He’d thought of everything. Or was it that Tito wasn’t accustomed to leaving anything to chance?
Erica flipped the folder open to see two bundles of paperwork each held tight in the top left hand corner with black paperclips. She pictured him sliding them on with his long dexterous fingers and positioning them neatly so they both sat at exactly north/south with no deviation from the margin of the page. The first bundle was the adoption papers and the second had the word divorce all over it. “You didn’t waste any time, did you?” she whispered bitterly. “Because this was the plan all along. Legally adopt the Frangos heir and then get rid of his unfit mother.”
She threw the papers back onto the wooden chest and put her hand over her mouth to quell the taste of rising bile. She swallowed hard and scooped Nick up to hold him next to her heart. He snuffled into her, all warm and fragrant. “What shall we do, little baby? What should Mummy do for you?” She stared at the documents, which had landed untidily. The pen had fallen to the floor, and she knew that she couldn’t leave him. However wonderful and wealthy his life in Crete would be, however well cared for he would be with nannies and relatives and Tito, she just couldn’t do it. It might be selfish of her but they had never been separated for more than a few hours at a time and the very thought of it made her want to curl up and die. They had made it this far together, and he was her reason for living.
Her options were stark. She wasn’t wanted here, and even if she could brazen it out and refuse to leave, seeing Tito every day, possibly bringing in new lovers and being ignored at best, would be too painful to bear. She had been humiliated enough, but if she left to find a place of her own, he and the Frangos women would have complete control of Nick. She wasn’t naïve enough to assume they wouldn’t start making access difficult. She didn’t think for one minute that he would tolerate Nick going with her, and once divorced it would be easier to get her off the island and deported home.
The bag that had brought all Nick’s essential stuff to and from hospital was still in his wardrobe and having checked her bank account via the cell phone Tito had given her, it appeared that she was now twenty thousand pounds better off. Presumably that was her first monthly allowance from him. And her last.
She knew what she had to do…
Tito hadn’t slept well. Even though he had been sleeping alone for the last week because Erica was in hospital, that morning felt different. The bed felt truly cold an
d empty, and he had been tossing and turning all night. As the sun began to rise, he decided to give up and just start the day. He had handled things with Erica very badly yesterday as their conversation careered out of control and ended in her demanding a divorce. That shouldn’t have happened. He should have opened his stupid mouth and defended himself, defended them. He had wanted to make her happy but had completely screwed it up by being so emotionally incompetent. His need to protect himself and keep her at a distance had overridden everything else, and now he needed to find her and go pick up the pieces.
However, it was too early to disturb her especially as it was her first night home after coming out of hospital. He wanted to go and retrieve the divorce forms before she saw them. He could talk her round, he was sure of it, but he knew he was going to have to grovel as if his life depended on it. And it kind of did—he didn’t want a divorce. Not yet. They had being doing just fine until the bomber had been arrested, and the irony wasn’t lost on him.
He tiptoed into the room and made it immediately to Nick’s cot. He was addicted to peering in on him to watch him sleep and had missed him terribly in the last week. Seeing his little chest going up and down and his thumb tucked in his mouth would soothe his nerves, he just knew it.
The cot was empty.
A chill raced up his spine, but he took a deep breath and forced himself to be rational. Nick had probably woken in the night, unsettled because of the upheaval and either one of the nannies or Erica had him with them. Tito turned to the chest of drawers where he had left the document folder, and his blood ran cold. There was a pile of ripped-up paper on the floor, which, on closer inspection, were the adoption papers. A thunderbolt seemed to hit him right in the heart. The divorce papers were signed and there was a scribbled note on the back of a used envelope. His eyes blurred with panic, but scanning the crumpled paper told him what he had immediately feared: Erica was gone and had taken Nick back to the UK. There was a solicitor’s address for him to forward the divorce documents and any correspondence for Nick. She intended to fight for his legacy if it was withheld by the trustees…
The Greek Tycoon's Tarnished Bride (Men of the Zodiac) Page 18
