for a moment to find an arm around her, holding her, and then she remembered where she was and what they’d done and how incredibly satisfying it’d been.
She needed to use the restroom, but she didn’t want to wake Nikos. She lay there for several minutes trying to persuade herself that she didn’t really have to go, but she did.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to go back to your room?”
She turned to look at Nikos. She could just make out his face in the dark but couldn’t read his expression. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I haven’t slept.”
“What time is it?”
“Probably two thirty or three.”
“Why can’t you sleep?”
“I have you in my bed.”
“And it’s a small bed.”
“It is a small bed, but that’s not it. I’ve just enjoyed lying here, holding you. You feel good.” He smoothed her long hair back from her face. “Why are you awake?”
“I think the little guy kicked me, reminded me I need to use the bathroom.”
“I felt him move tonight.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think?”
“It’s amazing. A miracle.” His voice dropped, deepening. “That you’re a miracle.”
Georgia sat up and reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. She blinked at the brightness of the light, but she wanted it on to see Nikos’s face. “I’m glad you finally were able to feel him move.”
“It’s rather incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He caught her hand, carried it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and then her palm. “Life changing.”
THEY RETURNED TO KATAPOLA, the main harbor, for a late breakfast after checking out of the hotel.
Nikos had wanted to stay in Chora for the meal, but Georgia pleaded to return to Katapola so they could have their last meal on Amorgós be at one of those charming restaurants on the bay.
In town, Nikos let Georgia pick the restaurant, and she took the task seriously, studying the outside of each place before examining the posted menus before finally selecting a small outdoor café close to the boats.
It was clearly a place for locals—and by locals, it appeared the local men—but Nikos entered and took a table on the shaded patio, ignoring the curious glances from the patrons already seated at tables.
They knew who he was, she thought as he held her chair for her. Just as the woman in the bakery had seemed to recognize him yesterday. Just as the woman behind the counter hadn’t been friendly, these men weren’t welcoming, either.
“I know you studied the menu outside, but almost everything was for lunch. Greeks don’t have a big breakfast. For some it’s just a coffee and cigarette, not that I’d recommend that for you,” he said. “For others, it might be some yogurt with almonds and honey, or maybe a slice of cheese pie or spinach pie.”
“So what would you suggest?”
“What are you hungry for?”
“Do you think they have eggs?”
“I’m sure they could cook eggs for you. I will ask.” He leaned back in his chair, looking carelessly at ease.
But Georgia wasn’t relaxed. She could feel the stares of the men at the table in the corner. It wasn’t comfortable. She shifted in her chair, trying to block them from view. “Have you been here before?”
“To this restaurant or the island?”
“Both.”
“Not to the café, but to the island, yes.”
She couldn’t help glancing back over her shoulder, her gaze sweeping the corner table as well as the pair at an adjacent table. Not one of the men smiled or nodded.
“Kind of an interesting energy,” she said.
“Very polite of you.”
She focused on him. “So you’re aware of the cold shoulder?”
“Absolutely. I’m not wanted here.”
“Why?”
“They are uncomfortable with me here.”
“Why?”
He didn’t immediately answer, and then he shrugged, wearily. “They call me teras. Thirio.”
Georgia silently repeated the words. “What does it mean?”
“It’s not important.”
“Tell me, Nikos.”
He sighed. “Monster.” He hesitated. “Beast.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped, shocked. “Why?”
He gestured to his face. “This.”
“That’s ridiculous. Those are burns. You were injured—”
“It bothers people here that I live and she does not.”
“Were you at the wheel?”
“No. I wasn’t even in the car.”
“Then how can they blame you?”
“It’s a small island. I live close by and yet I’m a stranger to them.”
“I find it hard to believe that’s why they call you such horrible things.”
“I’m an eccentric.”
“Yes, you are. But does that warrant such cruelty?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really care anymore. I just try to avoid this place. It’s why I didn’t want to come here. It’s why I stay on Kamari. It’s home.”
His refuge.
Georgia swallowed hard, hating what he’d told her and yet also understanding his desire to be alone. To have his own space. To be free of ignorant people’s hatefulness. “How do they even know about you and Elsa? Didn’t you meet her in Athens?”
“No. She was here on Amorgós on holiday with girlfriends, visiting from Oslo. They’d booked a villa for a number of weeks during the summer and while here, she met a handsome young man, a local fisherman named Ambrose, and they fell in love. He proposed. She stayed. The wedding was planned. And then she met me.”
“And she abandoned Ambrose for you.”
“Yes.”
“People took sides.”
“Yes.”
“And when she died in the accident, they blamed you.”
The edge of his mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “You know the story already.”
“It’s horrible.”
“I am, yes.”
“No.” She frowned at him. “You’re not horrible. The story is horrible. And they are horrible, too, if they call you such terrible names. You are not a beast or a monster—”
“I don’t blame them. She’s gone and look at me.”
“I see you. And I think you’re beautiful.” And then Georgia shocked everyone in the café by leaning across the table and kissing him on the lips. “Let’s