It had been late—around ten. Would he have picked up the phone if he had known it was Andreas? Probably. His father was like the sun to his earth. Distant, but impossible to live without. And he had tried—tried so hard—had spent so long trying not to care, hating Andreas. But even though he had wanted to hang up, to reject his father as Andreas had rejected him, he hadn’t been able to do it.
‘He called me at home in New York. Said he was in town and asked if I could come and see him. I wasn’t going to. I was so angry with him. I’d been angry with him for years. But I still couldn’t not go.’
‘What would have been the point of not going?’ Effie asked quietly. ‘Not seeing him wouldn’t have stopped him being your father.’ Her fingers tightened around his. ‘I’m guessing that’s when he told you he was ill?’
Achileas nodded slowly. ‘He has prostate cancer, and now it’s spread. He’s been fighting it for years and I don’t think there’s much else they can do. So, he wants to set his affairs in order.’
The ache in his chest had spread to his limbs. They felt heavy and immobile. His hand in Effie’s was a dead weight.
‘He has three daughters, but they have nothing to do with his business, and anyway he wants his empire—his legacy—to pass down the male line.’ He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. ‘Basically, that’s why he got in touch. To let me know that he was ready to acknowledge me as his son and heir, but—’
He didn’t want to admit the next part—to acknowledge that his father’s acceptance came with a condition attached. That for him, entry into the fabled Alexios clan came with strings.
And maybe he didn’t have to. He had already admitted so much—too much. Only the effort of hiding the truth was suddenly exhausting.
Glancing over at Effie’s small oval face, he felt a mix of impatience and admiration. She wouldn’t give up. She would sit and wait, or if necessary, follow him to the ends of the island—probably to the ends of the earth.
‘But you had to get married?’ she said quietly.
His eyes found hers. They were brown beneath the moonlight, but he could still see the flecks of gold in the irises. ‘Yes. And I know you must hate me—’
She stared at him. ‘Why would I hate you?’
‘Because I lied to you.’
‘Yes, you did—for the same reason I lied to you. Because we didn’t know each other, and the truth is hard for us to share with anyone, let alone a stranger.’
She spoke in that soft, precise way of hers that he found so soothing. Only he didn’t want to be soothed; he didn’t deserve to be.
‘But I kept lying to you even after I knew how badly you’d been hurt by your father’s lies. I let you think I was doing a good thing. That I was a good person—’
She frowned. ‘You are a good person.’
‘Why? Because of this? Us?’
‘Yes.’ The word echoed around the silent beach as she nodded. ‘You’re marrying someone you don’t love for someone you do.’
Something wrenched inside him, and he pulled his hand free of hers and got to his feet, backing away from her as she stood up too.
‘No, you’re wrong. I don’t love my father. I hate him for what he did to me—what he’s still doing to me.’
The old familiar anger was rushing over him like a dark storm surge, and it was both a relief and an agony. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Effie, but I’m not faking this marriage to make him happy. I’m doing it to get even.’
There it was. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
And it felt good to admit it finally.
It had been a long journey. In the beginning there had been only pain, and then afterwards that all-consuming rage. He’d understood that his father’s rejection was the cause of it, but understanding hadn’t eased the pain or calmed his fury. He’d known he needed to do more—needed to find some way to balance the equation or feel that way for ever.
And then suddenly the solution had been there. And the best part was that it had been his father who had inadvertently presented it to him.
‘I’m going to take away his name. Do to him what he did to me. I’m not giving him heirs. The Alexios name, and his legacy, will die with him.’
It had to. Because he had no idea how to be a father.
Effie was staring at him as if she didn’t know him. For a moment he felt like a stranger to himself, but of course it was strange, finally saying out loud what he’d been thinking privately for years.
‘And that’s what you want?’ she asked.