He turned as if he’d sensed her. ‘I have arranged for you to be on the first flight available to London.’
So this was it. It was really goodbye.
He didn’t even seem concerned about what would happen once the baby was born, proving she’d been wrong to try and make things work. This past week had been all about control and power. His control and power.
‘When?’ The word was firm and sharp as she held on to her emotions, and if it made her sound cold and heartless then so much the better.
He looked at his watch, the movement snagging her attention. ‘A taxi will be here any minute.’
She nodded her acceptance. The sooner they were apart the better.
‘Serena...?’
He said her name as a question and turned to look at her just as the engine of the taxi could be heard on the other side of the garden wall.
Her heart pounded so hard she could hardly breathe. She willed him to speak, willed him to tell her to stay, to say that he’d realised he couldn’t live without her, that he loved her. She wanted to go to him, to place her hand on his arm, to look into his eyes and whisper, Yes, Nikos, what is it?
‘Your taxi.’ The words cracked from him like shots from a gun. ‘My solicitor will write to you about the baby.’
His solicitor? Had they moved to that level already? Well, two could play that game. She pulled her notepad from her bag and scribbled her address down, tore out the page and handed it to him.
For a moment he didn’t move, just glared at her. Even the morning chorus of the birds quietened, as if they sensed the seriousness of the moment. Then he took the piece of paper and without looking at it folded it and put it in his pocket.
‘Goodbye, Serena.’
She could hardly speak, the lump in her throat was so large, but somehow she managed to push two words out. Two strong words.
‘Goodbye, Nikos.’
* * *
Every day for two weeks Nikos had sat at his desk trying to work, but that morning it hadn’t been figures for his new company that had glared accusingly back at him but tabloid headlines—and they had opened up just about every door he’d hidden his past behind.
He’d kept a low profile since Serena had left. Their engagement had been so public, and he hadn’t wanted the humiliation of seeing her absence commented on in the papers. He’d thought back to the brief conversation they’d had about his mother, just as he and Serena had arrived at his grandmother’s house, recalling her surprise that she was half-English. Had that really been enough for her to dig a story up? To expose his humiliating past and of course their broken engagement?
As the sun had streamed in through his office windows he’d looked again at the words, and at the photo of a woman he barely remembered—his mother. Intermittently she’d tried to contact him, but he’d always ignored her, preferring to keep her in the past—something he could no longer do.
According to what he’d read, his mother blamed not only herself but his father for his unhappy childhood and she wanted to make amends. And he had a good idea just who’d given her the opportunity to put her words into the hands of the press.
Now, with the sky over London heavy and grey, he sat in the back of one of the city’s black cabs as it negotiated the early-evening traffic. The newspaper he’d looked at this morning in his office was rolled tightly in his hand and anger was making adrenalin flow through him.
Could Serena be responsible?
He recalled the moment she’d left, a vividly played out scene in his mind. She’d been distant and cold to the point of icy, making him wonder if the hot passion they’d shared only a short time before had been nothing more than an act—a smokescreen to hide her true motives behind.
He could still feel the edges of the emerald digging into his palm as he’d crushed her engagement ring in his hand after she’d calmly taken it off, leaving it on the table. It had all been a mistake—that was what she’d said. But he’d been deafened by the thud of his heart as fury had forced it to pump harder.
The taxi stopped and he looked up at the white townhouse nestled in a quiet and affluent street. He’d never given a thought to where she lived, knowing only that he wanted it to be with him in Santorini, but this grand house was not what he’d expected and it only added to the notion that she’d sold his story.
He inhaled burning disappointment. He would have given her all he could. Hadn’t he honoured his side of their deal, sending her sister ample funds for further IVF treatment?