They had dinner together—burgers that Dimitrios ordered in, which Max ate with gusto, earning many beaming smiles of pride from Dimitrios. Annie had watched their interactions with a sense of sadness—at what the two had lost because of her—and pleasure—because it clearly wasn’t too late for them to build a meaningful relationship.
That was why they were doing this and, whatever personal sacrifice that required Dimitrios and her to make, it was completely worth it.
As for their own personal relationship, maybe he was right. Maybe they shouldn’t rush into bed together. A day ago, Annie would have laughed off the suggestion, but Dimitrios’s appeal was as magnetic as ever. She was going to have to work extremely hard to fight it.
But did she even want to?
I don’t want you to get hurt again.
Once she skipped over the mortification of how much of her heart was being worn on her sleeve, his thoughtfulness was pretty reassuring. She’d been a teenager the last time they’d had sex, and he had hurt her. By design! He’d aimed to break whatever illusions and hopes she’d built up thanks to one night of passionate sex. He’d said what he needed to—the harshest things he could think of—to push her away. It had worked. She’d been devastated, and furious, but he was doing everything he could to avoid her going through that again.
She could have told him he needn’t have worried. His diatribe that night had spawned something new in Annie; she was no longer the person she’d been then. She’d never be that woman again.
The fact he’d been her only lover didn’t change how she viewed sex now—it was purely a physical act. It didn’t mean anything. Just because they desired each other didn’t mean their feelings were—or ever had to be—involved. It was only passion. Respect and friendship had to be worked on separately.
&nbs
p; And what about love? a little voice inside her demanded. What about the fairy stories and the idea of a happily ever after?
Childish nonsense, Annie thought, pushing that little voice deep inside her as she walked back through the bedroom and into the hallway.
She was looking for Dimitrios, to thank him for the clothes. What she hadn’t expected to find was him in their son’s room. She checked her watch; it was half an hour after Max’s bed time. Dimitrios had said he’d tuck him in and, given how much he’d missed, and the fact Max had seemed fine with it, Annie hadn’t objected. She slowed down as she approached the door, the deep rumble of Dimitrios’s voice setting goose bumps along her arms.
‘This one is from when I was a boy, not much older than you.’
‘What happened?’
She wanted to peer round the door to see what Dimitrios was talking about, but she knew then that they might see her and stop talking.
‘My brother—your uncle Zach—you’ll like him.’ She could hear the smile in Dimitrios’s voice. ‘He liked to go to the Rocks, just down there.’ Annie closed her eyes, picturing Sydney’s famous Rocks area. ‘There’s an old bridge and a set of steps. We used to climb half way up them and then jump down, pretending we could fly.’
His laugh filled Annie’s tummy with butterflies.
‘Really?’
‘Mmm,’ he said. ‘But we couldn’t fly, as it turns out. I got this scar when I fell and hit my arm on the footpath. My mother wasn’t very pleased.’
There was silence and she tried to imagine what the expression on Max’s little face would be like. Eventually, frustrated, she moved just a little, shifting to peer round the door. Her heart cracked wide open. Dimitrios was propped up on the bed beside Max, his large frame just a grown-up version of Max’s. Max had his left arm out and she presumed the one scar he bore—from when he’d fallen off his scooter as a two-year-old—had been the initial subject of the conversation.
‘Is that my grandma?’
‘Yes,’ Dimitrios confirmed, his voice neutral.
‘Where does she live?’
‘Right here in Sydney.’
‘How come I’ve never met her?’
Dimitrios looked around the room; Annie shifted backward, out of sight.
‘You’ll meet her soon. At the wedding.’
‘Does she live with you?’
‘No. I live in Singapore, remember?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Max tilted his head to the side, lost in thought. ‘I’d miss my mummy if she ever didn’t live in the same house as me.’