Her smile was bittersweet. ‘Besides, everything reminded me of Lewis here too. Unlike Mum, I didn’t want to run from those memories. Sometimes I find myself going past his old place, just letting that wash over me—how happy he was the day he moved in, how much he loved his life.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I didn’t feel like I could leave that—him. Sydney is a connection to him. I suppose that sounds silly.’
Dimitrios’s voice was husky when he spoke. ‘Not at all. I get it.’
‘Do you?’
He nodded once and something dangerous passed between them because it was so reminiscent of their shared grief—a guttural, exhaustive sadness that had drawn them together that night. She looked away, focussing on the wall opposite. Scuff marks she’d become used to now seemed so much darker and worse. Embarrassment filled her but she refused to surrender to it.
His tone softened, sympathy obvious. ‘I have an apartment here. We can travel back often. I don’t intend to uproot you from your life completely.’
She shook her head. ‘You’re not hearing me. Marriage isn’t the solution here.’
He didn’t answer that.
‘Why did you call him Max?’
Annie’s cheeks burned pink. The sentimentality filled her with shame. She wouldn’t tell him the truth—it was too much of a concession, and she wasn’t ready to give him so much. Admitting that she’d researched his family tree and chosen his grandfather’s name somehow made her feel vulnerable, like the silly eighteen-year-old she’d been, the one who’d cared too much. ‘I heard the name and liked it,’ she said simply.
‘I like it too.’
Silence fell, thick with feeling.
‘You can come back to Sydney any time you’d like,’ he said with a gentleness that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. ‘I understand how this city holds a connection to Lewis for you.’ He paused. ‘It does for me too.’
Their eyes met and something like mutual understanding weaved from him to her, binding them in an inexplicable way, just as it had that night.
‘Max can still come and see his friends. But, for the most part, your lives will be in Singapore. There’s an international school he can attend—it’s very good.’
But Annie was shaking her head again, refusing to succumb to the image he was painting. ‘What part of “no” don’t you understand? I can’t marry you.’
‘Why not?’
The question surprised her, her inability to answer even more so. She searched for something that made sense, something that would satisfy him, and drew a blank.
‘Because’ or ‘I just can’t’ didn’t feel sufficient.
‘What? Do you have a lover? A boyfriend?’
Her cheeks flamed. No way would Annie confess the mortifying truth to Dimitrios—that she’d been alone since that one night they’d shared, seven years earlier!
‘Marriage just...isn’t something you decide to do on the spur of the moment.’
‘Even when a child is involved?’ he prompted, gently cajoling.
‘Especially when there’s a child involved!’ Her reply was emphatic, born of personal experience. ‘Neither of us wants to subject Max to that kind of marriage.’
‘What kind of marriage, exactly?’
She pursed her lips, pushing away memories of her childhood. Memories of her parents, who’d fought constantly, who’d been so out of sync, always worried about money, quarrelling with each other, and, when they weren’t together, shouting at their children. ‘One where we argue and snap. I don’t want Max to think that’s what family life is all about.’
‘I don’t intend to argue with you once we’re married.’
‘So what do you intend once we’re married?’
The question appeared to unsettle him for a moment.
Feeling she’d claimed the sensible high ground, she pushed home her advantage. ‘You can’t actually picture this, can you, Dimitrios? You and me, husband and wife, for as long as we both shall live?’
His eyes were swirling with the intensity of his thoughts.