“So? I resent my life.”
“You are right though, about your life. You didn’t choose it. I chose mine. And no, it didn’t pan out how I planned, but I chose to take Marina away from her family. To marry her when I knew that meant she would lose them.”
“Why undermine what you did?” she asked. “Why try to make it seem like it doesn’t matter? It did. And who can blame you for needing a break from it?”
“Because I don’t deserve a pat on the back for how I acted after a disaster that was of my own making.”
“You still blame yourself?”
“Of course.”
“You aren’t God, Makhail Nabatov, though I’m sure part of you likes to think so.”
“So is that who I blame then? God? Would that solve my problems? If I could wash my hands of it all and claim divine intervention?”
She shook her head. “No. If you have to blame someone, blame the driver of the other car. Blame doesn’t help. It doesn’t get anyone anywhere. It … I have another brother, you know.”
He stiffened. “Yes, I saw something about him, briefly, when going over your information.”
“You won’t find very much about Alexander. Because he won’t come back to Kyonos. My father, in his search for blame after the death of my mother, chose Xander as the scapegoat. I think even Stavros believes it. It’s very likely Xander does too.”
“How?” Mak asked.
“Because Xander was driving the car when it crashed, with my mother in it. They were out driving along the beach because Xander wanted to learn to drive and my mother lived to accommodate him. Xander was always the fun one, the impetuous one. He was very like my mother, you know. But it was such a normal thing. She took her son out for a drive. That’s all. Like you, they encountered a driver who wasn’t paying attention. Would you blame Xander?”
“No. But it’s different.”
“It’s not.”
He shifted and turned her, making the water spray around them. “You are stubborn,” he ground out.
She leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “I know. And so are you. But you have to let it go, Mak. How long will you carry the pain with you?”
His dark eyebrows locked together. “I don’t know how to let go. If I let go, it’s like she never existed.”
Eva shook her head. “Don’t forget her. But remember her smile. Remember what you loved about her.”
He winced. “Love is not my favorite memory.” He trailed his fingers over the damp line of Eva’s collarbone. “But I can remember her smile.”
“Good. Hold onto that.”
He studied her for a moment. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who would ask her lover to think of the face of another woman.”
“She was your wife. I respect that. You … whether you want to remember it or not, you loved her.”
“I have called you many things, not all of them flattering. But now, I just want to say that you are the most amazing woman I have ever met,” he said.
Tears filled her eyes and she hoped he wouldn’t notice. Hoped the water droplets on her skin would help conceal them. “You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met. So maybe we’re even.”
“Not even. Not even close.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek, over the tears that had started to fall. Blessedly, he didn’t comment. “Ready to go in?”
“Yes,” she said. “Ready.”
“An indoor picnic?” Mak asked a few hours later when he walked into the living area. He was freshly showered and shaved and he smelled like clean skin and sex.
News to Eva that sex had a smell. But she knew it now. And she was finding that she liked it.
“Well, it would be impractical to have an outdoor picnic,” she said, running her palm over the blanket that was spread over the living-room carpet, just in front of the fire. “Unless you fancy the idea of sitting on a blanket in the snow.”
“Not really. What inspired this?”
“Well, if we’re still sharing secrets … this is something I’ve always wanted to do. Part of my epic romantic fantasy, if you will.”