Annie cleared her throat. ‘The sofa came with the apartment, dearest. It will stay here when we go.’
‘Oh.’ He frowned. ‘But the train tracks are mine?’
Tears threatened to mist her eyes so she nodded and quickly tilted her head away. The train tracks were nothing special, but to Max they were the world.
‘Why don’t you go and put everything you’d like to bring on to your bed? That will make it easier to box up.’
‘’K.’ Max finished drinking his milk then stood, smiling as he left the room.
Air had always seemed to be a stable commodity to Annie but when Dimitrios was around it developed a changeability that took her breath away. It grew thin, making it hard to focus when they were alone again. She found it difficult to meet his eyes.
‘He looks so much like me.’
Annie nodded softly. ‘I know.’
‘I will never understand how you could choose to keep me out of his life.’
Annie’s eyes swept shut. ‘It wasn’t an easy decision.’
‘Yet you made it, every day. Even when you were struggling, and I could have made your life so much easier.’
That drew her attention. ‘You think this is going to make my life easier?’ A furrow developed between her brows. ‘Moving to another country, marrying you?’
His eyes roamed her face, as though he could read things in her expression that she didn’t know were there. As though her words had a secret meaning.
‘Yes.’
For some reason, the confidence of his reply gave her courage. One of them, at least, seemed certain they were doing the right thing.
‘What if we can’t make this work, Dimitrios?’
His eyes narrowed a little. ‘We will.’
It was so blithely self-assured, coming from a man who had always achieved anything he set out to, that Annie’s lips curled upwards in a small smile. ‘Marriage is difficult and Max is young—only six. Presuming you intend for our marriage to last until he’s eighteen, that’s twelve years of living together, pretending we’re something we’re not. I don’t know about you, but the strain of that feels unbearable.’
‘You’re wrong on several counts, Annabelle.’ He leaned forward, the noise of his movement drawing her attention, the proximity of his body making her pulse spark to life with renewed fervour. ‘I intend for our marriage to be real in every way—meaning for as long as we both shall live. As for pretending we’re something we’re not, we don’t need to do that.’
Her heart had started to beat faster. Her breath was thin. ‘What exactly does a “real” marriage mean?’
‘That we become a family. We live together. We share a bedroom, a bed, we raise our son as parents. It means you have my full support in every way.’
It was too much. Too much kindness and too much expectation. She’d thought he would be angry with her when he learned the truth, and that she could have handled. If he’d wanted to fight, she could have fought, but this was impossible to combat. The idea of sharing his bed...when she knew what he thought of her?
You’re little more than a child, Annabelle.
He’d all but called her unsophisticated and dull, right after taking her virginity. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and she shook her head automatically.
‘Sharing a home is one thing, but as for the rest—’
‘You object to being a family?’
He was being deliberately obtuse.
She forced herself to be brave and say what was on her mind. ‘You think I’m going to fall back into bed with you after this many years, just because we have a son together?’
His smile was mocking, his eyes teasing. ‘No, Annabelle. I think you’re going to fall back into bed with me because you still want me as much as you did then. You don’t need to pretend sleeping with me will be a hardship.’
Her jaw dropped and she sucked in a harsh gulp of air. ‘You are so arrogant.’