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For the last eight years he’d kept his distance—for her sake as well as his own. Because he’d believed it was the right thing to do. Bria
And he never could be.
Now, observing her desperate, defiant stance, Demos realised how those eight years had lulled him into a sense of security. Peace. Both began to crumble.
‘Bria
He saw a flicker of uncertainty chase across her features and his dread deepened, pooled icily in his stomach. His only contact with Bria
Yet now she was here, visiting him. Needing him. Looking at him as if he could fix all her problems when he couldn’t.
He knew he couldn’t.
‘I wanted to see you. I never see you any more…’ she began, with a toss of her head, but he heard the tremble of need in her voice and something inside him crumbled and broke. Again.
He turned and took her by the shoulders. Her cheeks were still as round and soft as a child’s. She was, he reflected, despite the make-up and clothes, nothing more than the frightened little girl he’d comforted during storms, played endless games of cards with on rainy afternoons. The little girl who had gazed trustingly up into his face and asked, ‘You’ll never leave me, will you?’
And, damn it, he had said he wouldn’t.
‘Bria
‘I want to come and live with you!’ she said in a rush. Tears brightened her eyes and she blinked them back. ‘Mama and Stavros are tired of me. They want me to marry, like you said. But, Demos…! I don’t want to.’ Her eyes widened, and a tear splashed onto his thumb.
He gazed down at her for a moment, at the need and fear so open and endless in her childish face, before he released her and moved out of the kitchen, back into the main space of the apartment. Through the sliding glass doors that led out onto the wide balcony he could see the aquamarine glint of Piraeus’s main harbour. He had been out on that water less than an hour ago, his eyes and mind on an endless horizon. Now, with a resolute sigh, he turned back to face his sister. ‘Why don’t you want to marry?’
‘Why don’t you?’ she tossed back, and he shook his head.
It was a question his mother asked him every time he went to her house. She’d ply him with her spinach pies and meltingly sweet baklava and then demand to know when he was bringing home his bride.
Demos just ignored her; there was no point in explaining that he didn’t want a wife, a family. He’d had the responsibility of one since he was twelve. He didn’t need any more.
He didn’t need this.
‘Marriage would be good for you,’ Demos said, his voice turning brusque.
Bria
‘Bria
‘You get to do everything you want, to enjoy life,’ she cried, ‘and yet you want me to settle down like Mama did, like Rosalia and Agathe did, whether I’d be happy or not! You don’t care about any of us now that you’re rich, do you?’ She stood there trembling, her fists clenched at her sides, tears streaking down her cheeks.
‘I care about all of you,’ Demos retorted. ‘I always have.’ He felt a tide of fury rise up in him, threatening to drown him in memories and regrets, and he forced it back down. ‘More than you could ever know, Bria
‘Some way you have of showing it! You haven’t been to see Mama in weeks. We still live in a house half the size of this apartment—’
‘Bria
Bria
‘What do you mean, Mama and Stavros want you to marry? They can’t force you, surely?’
‘No…’ Bria
‘Hints don’t mean anything. Mama’s been hinting to me for years.’ Admittedly her hints had the force of a sledgehammer, Demos thought, managing a wry smile. He was gratified to see Bria
‘Yes, but they won’t let me go out! I’m only twenty-one, Demos. I want to have fun…like you do.’
Demos jerked his head up and met Bria
He didn’t want Bria
He was a hypocrite.
He wanted her to be safe, cared for. Protected. He just couldn’t be the one to do it. Not for Bria
‘Like I do?’ he repeated slowly. He’d never considered himself to be wild. He was careful in his entertainment, choosy with his partners, but still he revelled in his freedom, revelled with a determination borne of too many years of self-denial.
Freedom, he acknowledged now with tired truthfulness, that was paling the longer he experienced it. He wanted more out of life. More for Bria
He had just never expected it to be marriage. Marriage… unending, stifling responsibility…someone always needing him, never satisfied, never enough.
Althea didn’t need him at all. The thought made him smile.
‘Demos…?’ Bria
‘You can stay the night. I’ll take you out to di
‘It’s not fair—’
Demos held up one hand in warning. ‘Don’t,’ he said in a hard voice, ‘tell me what is and is not fair.’ He softened his tone to add, ‘It’s best for you, Bria
That evening he took Bria
‘Demos!’ Nerissa Leikos’s voice sounded strained with anxiety over the telephone. ‘I was so worried… Thank God she is safe with you.’
‘Yes…but, Mother, she is unhappy. I am…’ Demos chose his words carefully ‘…concerned.’
The silence on the other end of the line told him enough. There was cause for concern, for fear. ‘Is she in danger?’ he asked quietly. ‘Does she need care?’
‘She needs to be married,’ Nerissa said flatly. ‘She is the kind of girl who gets into trouble on her own, Demos. She sees you—’
‘What about me?’ Demos asked sharply.
Nerissa sighed. ‘Demos, it is different for a man. You may do as you like, go out as you like. But Bria
Demos knew what his mother was implying. Her hints had never been subtle. She wanted him married…for Bria