But he couldn’t do that.
He couldn’t say he loved her when he didn’t.
He felt as if he was losing his mind; nothing made sense.
‘I want to go home.’ Her voice was hoarse. ‘I know we had a deal. I can try to pay you back what you’ve already spent on Mom. It will take me time but I can—’
‘Seriously,’ he interrupted, staying completely still. ‘Don’t. You think I care about money?’
She jerked her face away from his. ‘I think you’re paying me a lot of money for a marriage that I’m walking out of.’
‘You did your part,’ he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. ‘You saw Kosta, so, as far as I’m concerned, your obligations to me are at an end.’
She swept her eyes shut for a moment. ‘Then there’s no reason for me to stay here.’
He was eight years old again, having the rug pulled out from under him, having all the boundaries of his world shift brightly and unexpectedly. He was eight years old and losing someone important and valuable and unique in his life. Except this was different, because he was making this decision; he was in control, just like always.
The thought didn’t reassure him at all.
But there was no way he could offer Alice what she needed—no way he’d even try. He knew what she’d been through with Clinton; he wasn’t going to be another asshole who broke her heart.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, simply. ‘I was careless with you. I should have guarded against this better.’
A tear rolled down her cheek and his gut clenched hard and fast.
He didn’t touch her. He no longer felt he had any right.
She swallowed, her face so pale, so pinched. ‘What next?’
The question caught him by surprise and, briefly, hope flared in his chest, because that sounded like there was the opening to change her mind.
‘I can’t get off the island without you,’ she whispered.
Logistics.
Ice trickled down his spine. Damn it, he didn’t want her to get off the island.
He jerked his head once more. ‘Do you want to stay the night?’ Hope was back, his body crying out for just one last time, one last night holding her, breathing her in, one more morning of waking up with her in his arms.
She shook her head, fear in her expression, and he realised she was drowning in panic and heartbreak—because of him—and he couldn’t fix this. The one thing that would make it all better wasn’t in his power to give.
Desperation gnawed at him.
All he could do was to make this smoother and easier. He had to help her leave, had to stop fighting, stop thinking about what he wanted and help her get home. Help her forget him.
The insides of his gut clenched.
‘I’ll fly you to my hotel in Athens,’ he said firmly, not a hint of emotion in the words. ‘You’ll stay the rest of the night in a room there, and in the morning, if you still feel you want to return to America, my plane will take you.’
She nodded, blinking away from him. ‘Thank you.’
Thank you?
For what?
Thanos Stathakis felt like just about the worst human on the face of the planet. He sure as hell didn’t deserve her thanks.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN