mine for the better part of a minute. ‘If he’s mine, why have you hidden him from me for the better part of a year?’
His voice had changed, turned grittier, and he even looked a little shaken as his gaze swung again to Andreos. He started to walk towards the cot as if compelled, then stopped, shook his head.
‘Why is he here on the other side of the world when he should be in Greece, with his family?’
It would have been so easy to blurt out everything that had happened to me since that dreaded visit to the doctor in Switzerland. and the urgent summons to hear my diagnosis three gut-churning days later, when it had been confirmed that there was indeed a growth in my cervix.
But I was also told I was pregnant, and that any further exploration, even an initial biopsy to ascertain its malignancy or benignity, would jeopardise my baby.
I could have told him about the latest scans I had in my suitcase, taken by Dr Trudeau in Switzerland, and his recommendation to take action.
But if Axios’s presence here wasn’t warning enough that the time I’d bought for myself was over, the look in his eyes said I wouldn’t escape scot-free.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t the same woman he’d married. Harrowing decisions made in the cold grip of fear had a way of changing a person.
‘Why does it matter to you, anyway? I thought you would be glad to see the back of me for ever.’
A ferocious light glinted in his eyes for a heart-stopping second before he took a step towards me. ‘You married a Xenakis, Calypso. You think simply packing your bag and walking out through the door is the end of it? That you simply had to hightail it to the other end of the world for your marriage vows to cease to have meaning?’
I stemmed my panic as his words rankled. ‘Our vows had meaning? I could’ve sworn you challenged me to find a way to make them stop having meaning.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You think this was the answer?’
‘It was my way!’
‘Perhaps I should’ve added an addendum that finding a way needed to involve discretion and consideration. Nothing that would throw a spotlight on me or my family. My mistake. Tell me, Calypso, do you think disappearing off the face of the earth for over a year screams discretion or consideration?’
I shrugged with a carelessness I didn’t feel. ‘You didn’t stick around long enough to hash out another course of action. I did what was best.’
‘What was best for you, you mean?’
My senses wanted to scream yes! Caution warned me to remain calm. To talk this through as rationally as the tower of formidable fury in front of me would allow.
‘You still haven’t told me why you’re here.’
He made another sound of incredulity. ‘Because you’re my wife! Because the whispers need to cease. Because you will not jeopardise everything I’ve worked for. And that’s just for starters.’
‘Ah, now we’re getting to the bottom of it. You’re here because of what my absence is doing to your business? Is that it, Axios?’
With lightning speed warm fingers curled over my nape. His hold wasn’t threatening, simply holding me in place so that whatever point he needed to make would be accurately delivered.
‘While no one would dare say it to my face, rumours of my wife fleeing our marital home has caused ripples in my life. The kind I can do without. So make no mistake: I intend to remedy that. Whatever point you intended to make, it ends now.’
Each word contained a deadly promise—an intention to have his way that stoked the rebellion that had gone dormant in the last year back to life.
‘Believe it or not, my walking out had absolutely nothing to do with you.’
‘Enlighten me, then, matia mou. What was it all about?’
The soft cadence of his voice didn’t fool me.
‘What could possibly have driven you from the life of luxury and abundance your father battled for so cunningly?’
The mention of my father brought my goals back into focus. Reminded me why I hadn’t been able to stomach staying under Axios’s roof for one more day. That feeling of a loss of control. Of suffocation. Of not being able to live my life on my own terms. My choices being taken away from me without so much as a by your leave…
‘I’m not my father,’ I stressed, with every cell in my body.
‘No, you’re not. But while I was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt before, your actions have led me to form a different opinion about you. So whatever your reasons were, tell me now.’
‘Or what?’
He didn’t speak for the longest moment. Then his attention shifted to the cot where Andreos slept, lost in baby dreams. My heart tripped over itself as I watched Axios’s face. Watched him speculate with that clever mind financial analysts rhapsodised over.
‘Is he the reason?’
‘What do you mean?’
His jaw rippled. ‘If there was an indiscretion, I urge you to confess it now rather than later.’
His words shouldn’t have scraped my emotions. Considering what my mother had done, and the fall-out and gossip that had followed, I knew all too well how assumptions were made, judgements passed without verification. But the reality that he suspected Andreos wasn’t his lanced a soft spot in my heart.
A fierce need to protect my child’s honour ploughed through me. ‘We may not have known each other before we met at the altar, but you should know that I would rather cut off my own arm before attempting to lie about my child’s parentage. Whether you’re willing to accept it or not, he’s yours.’
If I’d expected my fervour to melt his coldness, I was sorely disappointed.
‘Your vigorous defence of your child is admirable. But, as you said, we were virtual strangers before we came together. If you want me to believe you, tell me where you’ve been. Every single thing you’ve done in the past year. Then perhaps I’ll consider believing you.’
The list reeled through my head.
Finding the bank account in Switzerland my grandmother had left in my name.
Seeing the private doctor who’d treated me.
Getting the results and feeling the soul-wrecking fear that my fate would echo my grandmother’s.
Making the choice I had to make.
Andreos’s arrival.
Saying the fervent prayers for more. One more day. One week. One month.
One year.
I couldn’t tell Axios any of that. Even the simple joy of rediscovering my love of painting and finding the shops and galleries I’d sold my watercolours to seemed too sacred, too private to share with the man who looked at me with rancour and suspicion. Whose every breath seemed like a silent pledge to uncover my secrets.
My life. Lived on my terms.
That was what I’d sworn to myself that rainy afternoon in my hotel room after leaving Dr Trudeau’s office. For the most part, it had been.
Axios’s arrival had simply shortened the time I’d given myself before checking off the last item on my list.
‘You’ll consider believing me after you’ve triple-checked everything I say?’
The unapologetic gleam in his eyes told me he intended to do exactly that. Tear through every new, unconditional friendship I’d formed along the way, every haven I’d sought refuge in.
My stomach churned at the thought of Axios finding