On and on the letters went, filling the gaps in his experiences, making him laugh with the amusing anecdotes, hurting him with the difficulties she’d gone through raising their daughter alone. Until he got to letters that must have been written in Greece, during her time here. His whole body ached as the words wrapped vines of love tighter and tighter around his heart.
Dear Dimitri,
Today I realised that I love you. It’s a precious, powerful love, and one day you’ll be ready to hear it, but I don’t think that day is today.
What had he done? He realised with shock that he didn’t want to protect himself any more. If it meant missing out on all these things, and all there was to come...he didn’t want it. If opening himself to it, if making himself vulnerable to love meant he got to experience these incredible moments, these unimaginable feelings, then he’d do it. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes as their fathers. He wanted to love Anna and Amalia and be stronger for it.
‘Danyl? Danyl!’ he shouted. ‘I have to go to Ireland. Now.’
Danyl stood in the sliding window frames. ‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ his friend said, silhouetted by the light from the house.
‘Why not?’ Dimitri demanded. ‘I have to find Anna. So why the hell wouldn’t that be a good idea?’ If he was shouting, he didn’t care.
‘Because,’ a voice said from somewhere within the house, ‘I’m not in Ireland.’
As Danyl retreated, Anna came forward, and Dimitri’s mind went blank. She was a vision, standing there in the light, the way he’d always seen her. The way that he’d always imagined her through those long, dark nights in prison, before he’d allowed the misunderstandings and the hurt to mar her features, his impression of her. The light he had needed in the darkness, the light he still needed.
‘Anna...’ He stood from the table and went to her. He wanted to take her into his arms, hold her to him and never let her go. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He needed to find the words...needed to tell her all that he felt, all that he wanted...all that he loved.
‘I pushed you away.’
‘Yes, you did,’ she said simply. There was no trace of accusation or hurt there, just a statement of fact.
‘I pushed you away because I was afraid. I had spent so long being determined that I was better off on my own, that I was the only person who could protect myself. But you—you were trying to protect me from my own darkness, from my own isolation. I let my fear of people betraying me, lying to me, using me—my father, my brother—twist the faith you put into me. The love you gave me. You didn’t have to say it, Anna. I saw it there, every time I looked at you. I didn’t allow you the chance to tell me, because I was so afraid of it.’ She was smiling. Why was she smiling? He had caused her so much hurt, but he had to push on, he had to tell her everything. ‘My father’s betrayal was the final straw, but instead of seeking comfort from you—a comfort I didn’t think I deserved or could even survive—I sent you away. Because truly, deep down, I was worried that I’d never be able to be alone again, never be safe. Because I thought that love threatened that safety. That security. I just didn’t realise that you were right. That love is strength, that it makes you able to survive anything.’
She reached out a hand and placed it on his cheek.
‘I didn’t make it easy on you,’ she said gently. ‘I have thought a lot about what you said that night—’
‘Anna—’
‘No, wait. You were right. Partly right,’ she conceded. ‘I once told you that I’d never forgive you for forcing me to marry you. But I know that it was the only way I could face my issues. So yes, you were right. I would have run, would have hidden, without really knowing it. Without realising. But you showed me what it was that I was doing. Hiding from my hopes and my fears, my father. You. That’s why it was so easy for me to believe your assistant. To use that as an excuse not to try harder to tell you about Amalia. About how I felt. Because I fell in love with you one night three years ago. But if you’ll have me, I’ll love you for ever.’
‘You forgive me?’ he asked into the night.
‘Of course I forgive you. I love you. And that love can never be taken away, or undermined, by anything. I give it to you freely, for the man you really are. Not just the man I met one night three years ago, and not the figment of my imagination that I wrote all those letters to, but you.’
‘Mrs Kyriakou,’ he said, getting down on one knee on the cold stone floor, ignoring the light laugh that fell from her lips, ‘throughout everything you have been the one person to see me, when I couldn’t even see myself. You are kind, generous, loving and, more than anything, so incredibly strong. I am humbled by you. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
‘I’m already your wife, Dimitri,’ Anna said, laughter and love shining bright in her beautiful eyes.
‘I want to do it properly this time. With your friends and family, with mine. All of us. Not alone any more, but together.’
Anna had barely said yes, when Dimitri pulled her towards him as his lips crashed down against hers. For Anna it was the best kiss she’d had, and would ever receive.
EPILOGUE
Dear Amalia,
Today was a very special day. It was your fifth birthday. Of course, you clearly enjoyed the cake more than the presents. I think you might be a chef when you grow up. But whether you are a chef, a scientist, a politician or an astronaut—the last being your current chosen career path—you are perfect in every way. Watching you grow into a strong, quite often determined and always very loud little lady has been one of the greatest pleasures in my life so far.
Your uncles Antonio and Danyl and their partners flew in to join us and you announced your expectations of cousins quite forcefully. Once I considered them friends but, Amalia, it was you who made us all a family.
Today—as a family—we had an extra present for your birthday. You won’t remember this, but you ran around the house for almost forty minutes, screaming with joy at the prospect of a little brother or sister to boss around. You explained in quite some detail about your plans for our new family member, who will arrive in six months’ time, and announced that it wasn’t long enough to do all the things that needed to be done. And then you demanded ice cream because you were going to be the best older sister that anyone ever had. And I believe you.
Today, Amalia, you showed me once again the incredible unconditional love that runs in the women of our family. The men—if we’re having a boy!—will have a lot to live up to, and we’ll try every single day to do so.
All my love, special girl,