It must have been a joke. Even through the glass he heard the woman beside her give an answering laugh.
Sophie.
He couldn’t see her smile—it was hidden by the surgical mask she wore. But he saw the way her eyes crinkled in delight at Eleni’s comment. The way she tipped back her head, laughing with her whole body.
The ache inside him deepened, twisted. His pulse ratcheted up a notch, as it always did when she was near.
Sophie and Eleni. Eleni and Sophie.
He shook his head, as if he could clear the whirling tumble of emotions and half-formed thoughts bombarding him.
He’d seen them together before. Sophie visited every day. Eleni wanted her there, so she was one of the few people allowed into the quarantined room.
The pair of them had grown ever closer. That was obvious even though Sophie tried to time her visits to avoid him: for the rare occasions when he was snatching a nap or meeting with doctors.
Not that he could blame her. They hadn’t been alone together since the afternoon he’d confronted her with his jealous rage.
After that it was a wonder she hadn’t left. Technically there was nothing to keep her in Greece. Yet she hadn’t taken him up on his offer of a flight to Sydney. Instead she’d stayed on.
For Eleni.
She certainly hadn’t remained in Crete to be near him. Costas knew he’d been a brute. An unreasoning, foul-tempered lout. Yet he knew that, faced again with the same circumstances, he’d probably behave exactly the same.
‘Costa?’
He swung round to see his mother hurrying towards him down the corridor.
‘Has something happened? You look so—’
‘Nothing’s happened,’ he reassured her. He straightened and turned his back on the wall of glass. ‘There’s no change. She seems to be doing reasonably well.’
‘Then what’s wrong?’ She allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace and kissed him soundly on both cheeks.
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he lied.
His mother glanced into Eleni’s room and smiled. ‘It’s good to see them together—they have a real bond. At first glance that girl is so like Fotini it’s astounding. But the differences are strong beneath the surface.’
‘We won’t go there,’ he murmured, but even to his own ears it sounded like a growl. He turned to the glass panel, seeing Sophie close the book and look up to find him watching her. Her whole body stilled.
He wished he could read her expression. Not just the blaze of molten gold in her widening eyes. They held his for a heartbeat, for two, so long that he almost forgot about his mother, standing there beside him.
‘Hiding from the truth won’t make it go away.’
He watched Sophie put the book down beside the bed, then turn to talk to Eleni.
‘Believe me. I’m not hiding from anything.’
‘Aren’t you? Yet you scowl whenever you look at Sophie. And you still freeze out any conversation about Fotini.’
He swung round to stare at his mother. ‘This is neither the time nor the place.’
‘Then when is the time? You’ve avoided talking about Fotini ever since the accident.’
‘There’s nothing to discuss. But don’t worry, I’m aware of the differences between Sophie and her cousin.’ His body responded vigorously and constantly to those unique differences. ‘Sophie is no spoiled heiress and she wasn’t brought up to be shallow or selfish.’
‘Costa! That’s not what I meant. And it’s not like you to be so harsh. Not after the way you supported Fotini. You did everything a husband could to help her. More than many men would have done.’
And what had that achieved? Despite his vigilance, his eternal patience, he hadn’t saved her from herself.