She sat on the edge of his bed, stroking his hand. In the space of three months, he’d gone from looking strong and vital to this—pale and barely a skeleton with skin.
‘You are my favourite person in the whole world.’ He turned over his hand, catching hers. ‘You’re so smart and so ki
nd and so funny—you are going to live a wonderful life.’
A sob racked her lungs.
‘I need you to do something for me.’
She nodded urgently. ‘Anything.’
‘Live your life for me. Remember how proud I am of you. Remember how much faith I have in you. Remember the stories I’ve told you about everything you deserve and don’t ever settle for anything less. You’re brilliant, Annie. You deserve the world.’
The memory had come to her out of nowhere, hovering on the brink of her mind as she woke early the next morning. Their night had been perfect. After the boat, they’d gone to an exclusive club, where Dimitrios had sat close to Annie she had drunk a cocktail and felt as though she were floating in heaven. Neither of them had seemed to want the night to end. They’d come home in the small hours of the morning and they’d made love again in the bed that Annie now thought of as theirs until her body had been weakened by pleasure and she’d been too tired to keep her eyes open.
Everything was perfect.
Except it wasn’t. It just looked perfect.
The distinction sat in her gut as she dressed that morning and, despite the corner they’d turned, she felt a sense of panic crowding her.
They’d become intimate but that didn’t really mean anything—at least, not in the sense she wanted it to.
Out of nowhere, with the force of a lightning bolt, she remembered the detail of when they’d been making love on the boat and she’d wanted, more than anything, for him to tell her he loved her. How she’d craved those words—words she knew she’d never hear him offer.
Dimitrios went to work and she was glad of that. She needed space to fathom what she wanted next, what their new level of intimacy meant and, more importantly, she needed to work out how to exist in a marriage that included friendship and sex but no love. Weren’t the lines getting far more blurred than either of them had intended?
Fortunately, Max was in one of his million-miles-an-hour moods, so it was hard for Annie to focus on anything but him. Even when her mind kept throwing flashbacks at her—reminding her of the pleasure she’d felt the night before, of the man who’d driven her wild—she forced herself to stay in the present. One foot after the other, breathing in and out, until the day was almost at an end.
In the way of children, Max barely seemed to feel the heat of Singapore. He wanted to go out and explore, and Annie agreed, so they asked the driver to take them into the city. They shopped and found a playground, then the driver took them to a food market full of local delicacies. They weren’t too adventurous with their selections, but what they did order was delicious, and Annie promised they’d come back another time.
Christmas was everywhere they looked—despite the heat, as in Australia the depictions and decorations were all of a northern hemisphere, wintry Christmas. Trees with white snow painted on their ends, windows that looked snow-covered. Annie bought a packet of gourmet fruit mince pies on autopilot—it was something she’d always loved as a child but had had to do without since Max.
As the evening drew closer, nervous anticipation began to seep into her body. Soon they’d be home and that would mean facing Dimitrios. Annie knew she had to work out what she wanted before then. If she didn’t? They’d go to bed together, and again and again, and a pattern would form that would set the tone for the rest of her life. Which was fine, if she could accept what he was offering.
But was it enough?
She looked down at Max and guilt rammed her. How could she even think it wouldn’t be? How could she think her feelings mattered at all? This was right for Max, wasn’t it?
But her own childhood had been so marred by her parents’ unhappy marriage. She knew she had to avoid that too. She wouldn’t raise Max in a war zone.
Only, fighting with Dimitrios wasn’t inevitable—they could treat each other with respect even if they didn’t love one another.
If only Annie could be certain that was the case!
She stopped walking, staring at a glamorous handbag-store as her heart twisted sharply. It wasn’t the case. They might not love each other but Annie loved Dimitrios. She groaned softly, lifting a hand to her parted lips. She’d loved him as a teenager, but that had been easy to write off as a childish infatuation. This was so different. This was far more adult, far more dangerous, predicated on the way she’d come to know him now, years after they’d conceived Max. He was everything she’d fantasised about back then but so much more, too. He was kind, gentle and thoughtful, considerate and passionate. He was her other half.
‘Mummy? What is it?’
She swallowed hard, realisation making her breathing uneven. ‘I’m just hot, Maxi.’ She reverted to his baby name and he didn’t complain.
‘We should go home. Or get ice-cream.’
His opportunistic second suggestion brought a vague smile to her face. ‘Home for now.’
‘Okay.’ His voice only sounded a little disappointed. ‘It’s funny to think of this as home.’
More guilt. What was she actually proposing—that she leave Dimitrios? She couldn’t do that to Max, no matter how hard this was for her. But nor could she stay in a sham marriage, could she? She felt as though she were in a small room with daggers on all sides.