‘No, I’m just normal. You’re too used to being surrounded by people who are twisted and cynical. They’ve forgotten what it is to feel anything.’
‘I’m one of them.’
‘I don’t think you are.’
He looked at her and said, very carefully, ‘Yes, I am, Sofie. I can’t promise anything beyond this. I don’t want to. It’s not what I want. Something broke inside me a long time ago and it can’t be fixed. That’s okay.’
It wasn’t, though. Sofie knew that as Achilles took her by the hand and led her back into the throng of the party. Soon they were inundated with more of Achilles’s ardent followers.
She felt queasy inside and couldn’t shake it.
She had a better understanding of why he behaved the way he did. Why he’d gone off the rails—clearly chafing at receiving an inheritance that shouldn’t be solely his. But he’d then stepped up to the plate because of the responsibility he had to his family legacy.
Was that the reason he was drawn to extreme sports and hedonistic living? Some kind of survivor guilt? She went cold inside to think of how he taunted death. But Sofie got it. She understood.
Maybe some day a woman would be able to break him free of his past—someone who understood this world as well as he did. Who could rouse the need in him to overcome his demons.
But it evidently wouldn’t be her. She realised after that exchange and those revelations that she needed to protect herself, because Achilles had really meant every word he’d said back there. He’d been warning her. Spelling it out in massive letters.
I am damaged and I have no desire to be healed by you.
She’d told Achilles that she cared for him—massive understatement—and he’d barely blinked. It hadn’t made even a dent of impact.
She’d indulged in fantasy for too long. Basked in the sun of Achilles’s regard. Fooled herself into believing that he really saw her. And he did. But not in the way she needed. He saw her—but only as a temporary diversion.
She didn’t want someone to see her only temporarily. She wanted someone to see her for ever. To want to get to know her deeply and with love. That was what she wanted—more than finding herself through travel, or escaping the confines of her small island.
That would all mean nothing unless she could share it with someone she loved, who loved her back.
When they arrived back at the villa after the party Achilles felt tired. As if he’d been running for miles and finally stopped. As if a weight had been simultaneously lifted and replaced on his shoulders. The strangest sensation.
He shrugged off his jacket and went straight to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a nightcap.
He looked over his shoulder to where Sofie was slipping off her shoes. She’d been quiet the whole way back. Not like her. Usually she was chattering about the people she’d met, the ridiculous things they’d said or done.
He frowned. ‘Do you want a drink?’
She held her sandals in her hands and shook her head. ‘No, thanks. Actually, I think I’ll just go to bed. I’m quite tired.’
Already imagining sliding between cool sheets and curving his body around hers, moulding her breasts with his hands, Achilles felt anticipation fire up his blood and said, ‘I’ll join you shortly.’
He turned away, but from behind him Sofie said hesitantly, ‘I think I’d like to sleep alone tonight.’
Achilles went still, the drink halfway to his mouth. He put the glass down and turned around. ‘What’s going on?’
He noticed now that she looked nervous. Pale in spite of the lightly golden glow her skin had acquired in the sun.
‘I think it’s best if I make my way home from Athens when we return. And you go on to New York.’
Achilles wasn’t stupid. He had registered Sofie saying, ‘I care about you’, but he’d pushed it down deep, where it wouldn’t impact. He suddenly felt unbalanced, as if the earth had shifted slightly.
‘Is this because of what I said? It wasn’t anything you didn’t already know.’
‘I didn’t know the details of how you lost your family.’
‘They don’t have anything to do with this.’
Sofie looked at him with those huge dark blue eyes. He realised now that they reminded him of the sky just before the dusk disappeared completely.
‘No, I guess they don’t. This is to do with me. Not you.’
Achilles smiled, but it was mirthless. ‘Isn’t that line a bit outdated?’
‘It’s not a line.’
Colour flared in her cheeks, which only made Achilles’s blood hotter.
‘I care about you, Achilles. More than I should. And I know you didn’t promise me anything at all. Your parameters were very clear. Fun and adventure. And I’ve had an amazing time. But I can’t pretend to not be affected by my emotions, and if we continue this...this affair, when it ends—as it inevitably will—I don’t think I’ll cope very well. Whereas you... I think you’ll cope just fine. And you’ll get on with your life.’
Achilles absorbed Sofie’s words. She wasn’t saying anything remotely unreasonable. She was just being honest. It struck him that in any other situation with a lover telling him she had feelings for him he would not still be standing here.
But her words weren’t evoking panic or claustrophobia. They just evoked a kind of numbness. He couldn’t quite believe she was saying she wanted to leave. She couldn’t leave. Not yet.