Captivated by the Greek

Whatever it cost him.

He came towards her now, took the hard chair that was near the bed and sat himself down on it. Took a deep, steadying breath in order to say what he must say now that she’d made it crystal clear that she’d never wanted to tell him about her pregnancy. Never wanted him ‘involved.’ The word twisted inside him like snakes.

‘You know I’ll stand by you, Mel. There’ll be no money worries. I’ll see to everything. Look after you, whatever you choose. So you can live wherever you want—well, anywhere child-safe, obviously.’

She heard him speak, and each word was like an arrow in her. But with each word she knew irrefutably that after all her anguish and turmoil, her longings and her fears from the very moment she had seen that thin blue line on the pregnancy test, that she had done what had proved the right thing to have done. She knew she had made the right decision in determining to head for Spain, not to tell Nikos about being pregnant, not to burden him with it...

But it was too late now—he knew she carried their child. And now she would have to take the consequences of his knowledge. Protect herself from them as much as she could.

A pang went through her...

He made as if to reach for her hand, then stopped, drew back. Then he spoke again.

‘I know how vital your freedom is to you, Mel. I’ll protect that for you as much as I can—make as few demands on you as I can. So long as from time to time you let me...let me—’

He stopped, unable to continue.

Let me see my baby—my child. Let me see you, Mel—let me be a part of your life, however small...

He swallowed, forced himself to keep going, to keep his voice studiedly, doggedly neutral—impossible though it was to do so, when inside he was holding down with brute force what was burning inside him.

‘But please, Mel, don’t disappear without my knowing—that’s all I ask. I have...responsibilities...for you...for the baby...’

The word tolled in her brain. ‘Responsibilities...’ Yes, that was all it could be to him. He’d been angry—furious—and understandably so, when he’d thought she wanted a termination. But now that he’d realised she wanted this baby—how terrified she’d been when she’d thought she might lose it—now it was just a question of...responsibilities.

Responsibilities she would—must—keep as light as possible for him. She must assure him of that.

‘I won’t...impose on you, Nikos. Financially I’ll be all right. I have the rental income from my grandfather’s house, and until the baby is born I can work. I’m going to base myself in Spain, probably, because I can live cheaply there. There are various child benefits I’m entitled to claim as well—that woman at the charity explained it all to me.’

‘Impose?’ he echoed. ‘Mel, this is my baby you’re talking about. It goes without question that I’ll take care of everything.’

She shook her head violently. It hurt, but she didn’t care.

‘Oh, Nikos, that’s why I wish to God you’d never found out. I know how scarred you are by your parents chaining themselves to each other. That you never want to run such a risk yourself. That’s why you only wanted a brief romance with me. The last thing you want is to be trapped—trapped as you are now—trapped by unplanned, unwanted fatherhood. And that’s why I was never going to tell you about the baby. So you could be free.’

Her voice was anguished, no more than a whisper now.

‘If you’d never known about the baby we could both have been free of each other...’

For a moment...for an eternity...there was silence.

Then... ‘Free of each other?’ Nikos’s echo of her words dropped like lead into the silence.

Abruptly, he let go of her hands. Pushed the chair back roughly. Got to his feet. Paced about the narrow room. Turned back to look at her. Tension radiated from him.

‘Your freedom to roam the world after all those years looking after your grandfather—mine to avoid any kind of repetition of the snake pit that is my parents’ marriage—is that it?’

There was something strange in his voice—something that made her stare at him. Not understanding. Not comprehending.

He didn’t wait for an answer—just ploughed on. That same strange note was in his voice, the same strangeness in his face...his eyes.

‘All my life I’ve run scared,’ he said. ‘Scared and, yes, scarred. Scarred by what I’ve had to witness between my warring, snarling parents. Tearing each other apart...tearing their marriage apart. And I dreaded, dreaded that I might end up doing the same.’