Christmas Baby For The Greek
My parents were happy, chasing their stars.
A lump rose in his throat. Not everyone was so lucky. Not everyone could—
“You are a fool, Stavi.”
The words, spoken in Greek, were more mournful than accusing. Turning, he saw Eleni standing in the doorway.
“She chose to go. I could not stop her,” he replied in the same language. The elderly Greek woman shook her head.
“She loves you. The last thing she wanted was to go.”
“Her quick departure proves otherwise,” he said flatly. He looked out the window at the gray morning above the gray city. He knew the stars existed above the clouds, even now. But he couldn’t see them. Just like his wife and child.
He wondered if his private jet had landed yet. If the sky in Switzerland right now was bright and blue above the sparkling Alpine snow. He imagined them decorating a Christmas tree. Drinking cocoa. He saw Holly, so beautiful and loving and warm, wearing flannel pajamas tonight as she put stockings on the hearth of the old cabin’s stone fireplace. She believed in love. She probably believed in Santa, too.
“Oh, Stavi.” Eleni sighed, making clucking noises with her tongue. “Why did you not just tell her the truth?”
Anger went through him.
“I did,” he growled. “I can never love her.”
The older woman’s dark eyes looked back at him, and she sighed again.
“Men,” she chided, shaking her head slightly. “The truth is, you already do.”
Stavros stared at her.
“Love Holly?” Ridiculous. He wouldn’t love anyone. Love was a tragedy that made victims out of at least one, if not two people. He scoffed rudely, “You’re out of your mind, old woman.”
But she didn’t let his insult stop her. “Of course you love her. Why else would you send her away?”
“Now I know you’re crazy.” He looked at her incredulously. “Sending Holly away proves I love her?”
Eleni looked at him steadily. “You think you’re not worthy of her. So you won’t let her waste years of her life, like your mother did, loving someone who obviously doesn’t deserve it.”
Stavros stared at her in shock. His eyes narrowed.
“I’m nothing like my father.”
The white-haired Greek woman tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting in the shadowy dawn. “No? It’s true you don’t sleep with other women. But do you ignore? Do you abandon and neglect?”
His hands tightened at his sides. “I’ve been nothing but good to them.”
“You forget I’ve been living here lately.” She lifted her chin. “While you have not.”
Stavros opened his mouth to argue. Then he closed it again. Yes, all right, he hadn’t been around much for the last few weeks. He’d barely seen either his new wife or his child. But he’d been trying to protect them. From loving him. Because he didn’t want them hurt.
He’d tried his best. He’d given Holly his name. His money. They’d wanted for nothing.
Except his attention and love.
Because they deserved more. They deserved better.
Because he wasn’t worthy.
Swallowing hard, Stavros stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city.
“Go to her,” Eleni said softly behind him. “If you do not, if you are not brave enough to fight for her, brave enough to give her everything, you will regret it all your life.”