Leo told her that they’d never made much of Christmas either, when he was a child. In the Greek Orthodox church Easter was by far the greater holiday. Besides eating a grand meal on Christmas Day, and exchanging presents on January the sixth, Christmas passed by most Greek households virtually unnoticed.
‘But I think we have much to celebrate this year,’ he said, ‘so I wouldn’t mind changing things.’
So Margo did.
She wanted to keep the Greek spirit of things, and tried her hand at different Christmassy Greek treats: melomakarona, honey-dipped cookies stuffed with nuts, and kourambiedes, cookies dusted with powdered sugar. She and Maria made loaves of christopsomo—a round loaf decorated on the top with a cross, one of which adorned just about every Christmas table in Greece.
She gathered evergreen and pine boughs from around the estate and decorated the mantels and banisters; soon the whole villa smelled like a forest.
Leo brought in a Christmas tree and Margo made dough ornaments with Timon when Parthenope came to visit, enjoying the time with her husband’s nephew and imagining how one day it would be her own child at her side.
It still seemed too good to be true, too wonderful to trust that it would actually happen. But with each day that passed she felt her faith in the future grow stronger...even as she wondered about herself and Leo.
Things were better, certainly, and far from businesslike. But they hadn’t actually talked about the future, or what they felt for each other, and Margo wasn’t brave enough to be the first one to confess that her feelings were growing and turning to love. She hardly wanted to admit it to herself, afraid that the fragile happiness they’d found would shatter into a million pieces...just as it had before.
In any case, there was still much to enjoy.
They all went into Amfissa on Christmas Eve for a midnight service. The Byzantine kalandas were different from the traditional songs and hymns Margo knew, but she liked them all the same.
Afterwards Ava and Xanthe retired to their rooms, and once she and Leo were alone in the sitting room, a fire crackling in the hearth and the Christmas tree glowing with fairy lights, Leo took an envelope out of his pocket.
‘Shall we?’
‘It’s not Christmas yet,’ Margo protested, even as she felt a tremulous thrill of excitement.
‘It’s after midnight.’ Leo sat cross-legged on the thick rug in front of the fire and patted the space next to him. ‘We’ll open it together, so we can see at the same time.’
‘All right,’ Margo said, and a little bit awkwardly, because of her growing bump, sat next to him on the rug.
Wordlessly they opened the envelope, their fingers brushing as they withdrew the single slip of paper and read the single sentence in English the technician had written there.
It’s a...boy!
‘A boy...’ Margo repeated wonderingly.
She felt jolted, almost unsettled. She’d been excited to find out the sex of their baby, but now that she knew it, it made things more real and less real at the same time.
She put both hands to her bump. ‘A son. We’re going to have a son.’ She glanced at Leo, who looked as gobsmacked as she felt. ‘Are you happy?’
‘I’m...overjoyed.’ He put one hand over hers, on top of her bump. ‘What about you?’
‘Yes. It’s strange, but it seems so hard to believe.’
‘I know what you mean. But you’re not...you’re not disappointed?’
‘Disappointed? Why would I be?’
‘Because...because of Annelise.’
Just the name caused a little ripple of pain to go through her, but no more than that. Her hands curved more possessively around her bump. ‘A baby girl wouldn’t have replaced Annelise, Leo.’
‘I know. Nothing can replace her. But it might have eased things, a bit.’
‘No, it’s better this way. A whole new start, for all of us.’
She caught her breath, her heart starting to thud as she realised just how much she meant that. How much she wanted it.
And Leo must have understood that, because Margo saw his eyes darken and his gaze move to her mouth.
‘Margo...’ he said, and then he kissed her. Softly, one hand cradling her face, the other still resting on her bump.
It was the most perfect moment, the most intimate and tender thing she’d ever experienced.
Then Leo broke away. ‘I want you,’ he said bluntly, and the simply stated fact caused a tremor to run through her. ‘I want you very badly. But only...only if you want me.’
The vulnerability on his face made her ache. Those awful words she’d flung at him so many months ago still had the power to hurt.
She raised her hand to his cheek, cradling his face just as he’d cradled hers. ‘I want you, Leo. I want you very much.’