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She arched a brow. “I don’t know who you refer to. I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“I’m not, and you know who I talk about. She was pregnant with Nikos Panos’s child, too. But she’d rather kill herself, and the baby, then live with him.” He gave her a dark, searching look. “You should know the truth as I’m sure he hasn’t told you. Or maybe he has, and that’s why you’re here.”
Georgia felt a wave of disgust and revulsion. “Are you the one that sends those letters every year to him? Ambierce... Ambrose?”
He straightened. “Ambrose. And so he has told you.”
“Why do you do it? What is the point?”
“He was already rich. He had everything. He didn’t need her. She was mine.”
“If that was the case, then she shouldn’t have married him.” She tipped her head. “Good night.”
Once back in her small room, Georgia locked her door and lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
Was Elsa really pregnant at the time she died? Nikos hadn’t mentioned that.
She placed her arm over her eyes to try to block out the pictures in her head, but it was difficult with Ambrose’s words still ringing in her ears.
It was a good thing she was going to Santorini in the morning.
* * *
Pain woke Georgia up in the middle of the night, an ungodly cramping pain that made her fear the worst.
At thirty-three weeks the baby should be viable, but she wasn’t home, and she wasn’t near a major hospital.
She needed to get to a hospital. She needed help.
Struggling to get clothes on, she leaned against the wall during another sharp contraction, panting through the pain. She made it out into the hallway but couldn’t take another step. The contractions were so close now. The baby was coming, and she feared the worst. She desperately needed help. She desperately needed Nikos.
* * *
Georgia opened her eyes. Bright lights shone into her eyes. There was a hum of voices and sound. A face wearing a surgical mask leaned over her, said something in Greek. Georgia had no idea what was said. She couldn’t feel anything. She closed her eyes again.
The voices were just a murmur of sound, but it pulled her in. She struggled to follow. It was English. She should be able to understand. It was Nikos talking, but in English. He was talking to someone about the baby. She knew that someone, recognized the voice. A man...a lawyer, maybe? Mr. Laurent?
She tried to open her eyes to ask about the baby, but they wouldn’t open. Or maybe they were open and she just couldn’t see...
* * *
This time when she opened her eyes she could see. The room was dark except for a glow of light by the door. She wasn’t alone, though.
Turning her head, she spotted Nikos in a chair, close to her side of the bed. He was awake, watching her intently, and his fierce expression made her heart turn over. “The baby?” she whispered.
“He’s good. He’s fine.” Nikos’s voice was rough. “You’re the one we were all worried about.”
“I want to see the baby.”
“You will, soon. I think the doctors want to see you first.”
“But he’s really okay?”
“He’s here a bit early, but otherwise, he’s perfect.”
She searched his face, trying to see what he wasn’t telling her. She was certain there were things he was keeping to himself. “I heard you earlier speaking in English. I could have sworn you were talking to Mr. Laurent. Is he here?”
He hesitated for just a moment before nodding. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to make some changes to our agreement, and time was of the essence, so I flew him over. He arrived early this morning.”
“What changes are you making to the contract?”
“We can discuss after the doctor has been in. He’s been waiting to see you but I wouldn’t let him wake you up. I can’t believe how many times the nurses come in to check on you. It’s impossible for you to get any rest here.”
He sounded so indignant she almost smiled. “So tell me what’s happening. Don’t make me wait.”
“I changed the documents. I gave you primary custody of our son.”
She struggled to sit up. “What?”
“Shh, lie down, don’t get excited.” He gently pushed her back. “You are his mother, and a mother should have a voice and power and control.”
“But why primary custody? Why not joint custody?”
“Mr. Laurent said the same thing.” He hesitated. “But if I changed the agreement to joint custody, then I am forcing you to co-parent with me. I am forcing you to interact with me constantly, discussing everything from his holidays to his education to medical care. If we were on good terms, it would not be a problem, but if it is not good between us, it will be difficult and will create even more anger and resentment.”
But she still didn’t understand. “This isn’t what you wanted, Nikos. This isn’t what we were doing.”
“He needs a mother. He needs you.”
“And he needs a father, too. And you are his father.”
“I intend to be his father. I intend to be in his life, but you will get to decide how we do this. It is my hope that you will feel empowered and secure—”
“Nikos, I never wanted to be a single mother!” she interrupted fiercely, tears filling her eyes. “This wasn’t the plan!”
“I know you have school. Two more years of school. And then your residency—”
“And how am I going to do that now?”
“I will help.”
“You will help?”
He nodded. “I am not walking away from you. I am not walking away from my son. I will provide financially, but I will also be there.”
“How?”
He shrugged. “I have planes. I can fly to America, too.”
“You are going to come to Atlanta?”
He shrugged. “If that is where my son is.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, not at all certain what to say.
Nikos stood up. “I’m going to see if I can have them bring the baby to you. I think it’s time you met your son.”
* * *
Georgia was able to have a visit with her son—he was small, but, as Nikos said, he was perfect in every other way—before the nurses whisked him back to the neonatal unit, where they were keeping him warm and under close supervision.
Georgia had dozed off but was awake again, trying to sort out how she felt about everything.
So much had happened in such a short period of time that it was difficult to separate her feelings from the facts, as well as the drama.
She’d missed Nikos when she’d been on Amorgós. And when she was in pain, and trouble, all she’d wanted was Nikos at her side.
She didn’t want to raise a child on her own. She hadn’t agreed to be a donor and surrogate to become a single mother. Nikos would be a good father, too. A very devoted father.
How could she take the baby to Atlanta and raise him there?
Even if Nikos agreed to go to Atlanta and share parenting responsibilities with her in America...how would that really work? And was that the right thing for any of them?
Georgia couldn’t picture Nikos in Atlanta. It wasn’t just because he was Greek—he was a man that needed his sea and his sky and his space. She couldn’t imagine him in a city or even a suburb of Atlanta. But why was she worrying about what he needed? Why did she care?
Because she did care.
Because she loved him.
No matter how the baby had been conceived, it was their baby, and it was their responsibility to figure this out, sort it out.
She didn’t know why Nikos had fallen in love with Elsa. She didn’t know why Elsa wasn’t happy with Nikos. She didn’t know about Ambrose or any of it, and, to be honest, she didn’t want to know.
She didn’t want all the details. It wasn’t her relationship, and she wasn’t part of that bit of his
tory. She had her own history and her own struggles and her own dreams.
