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She had no memory of undressing or taking off her makeup the night before, but she slept naked, the way her husband liked her, with no day-old mascara clumped on her lashes when she blinked her eyes open.
Polly was alone in the bed. Nothing new about that, but the single yellow rose on her husband’s pillow was.
She picked it up and automatically brought it to her nose to sniff as she read the note he’d left with the flower on her pillow.
Good morning, agape mou.
Nothing life altering in those four words, except it was the first time in their relationship that Alexandros had written a personal note to her. He didn’t do cards for holidays or anniversaries, or even her birthday. He did big, extravagant gifts that touched her less than a simple card would have done. Money was easy for Alexandros.
Sentiment would have been harder.
He did texts and sometimes phone calls, but since she stopped replying immediately or picking up the phone every time his number showed, those instances had become less common.
She went to find her daughter, knowing the little girl would be up soon if Helena was not already. They breakfasted together like they usually did, Polly answering her precocious three-year-old’s many and often unexpected questions. Today’s topic was pandas, culminating in an altogether to be expected request to visit the zoo.
The thought of walking the long pathways at the zoo with a rambunctious toddler did not appeal, but they could take the nursery maid with them, so Polly said, “Maybe, darling, but not today.”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Polly’s phone buzzed with a text and she checked it, startled when it was Alexandros inquiring how she was feeling.
She shot off a quick reply—Fine—and went back to talking the merits of different habitats at the zoo with her daughter.
A second text buzzed seconds later.
Do not say you are fine when you are not. Are you still exhausted?
She stared down at the phone in consternation. Since when was she not supposed to say she was fine when she wasn’t? Alexandros didn’t do drama. He didn’t do anything that interfered with his well-ordered, fully business-oriented life.
Why are you asking? Is there something you want to add to my schedule?
That was the only thing she could think would have prompted the unprecedented text. But then why hadn’t he contacted her social secretary? She’d hired Beryl the first year of their marriage, when Polly had realized that she needed a buffer between herself and the in-laws from hell. And that chances were, her husband was never going to be that buffer.
From an old elite Athens family that had fallen on hard times, Beryl was the perfect person to arrange social occasions with Alexandros’s family and the rest of Athens society. Her efficiency also made it possible for Polly to fulfill her responsibilities as the wife of a billionaire and still be the kind of mom she’d always determined to be.
She sent another quick text off to Alexandros.
Just text Beryl. She has my calendar.
Which of course Alexandros knew, but Polly was thrown for a loop and reacting.
Her phone rang and she was surprised to see it was Alexandros.
“Hello.”
“I’m not trying put more on your schedule, yineka mou. I was simply trying to find out if you are feeling any better this morning. You were well and truly exhausted last night.”
“I’m pregnant. It comes with the territory.”
“But having to get dressed up to attend an unpleasant weekly family dinner doesn’t help, does it?”
Was he expecting her to apologize for saying that? She wasn’t going to. If he didn’t like the truth, he should not ask for it. Or better yet, he should make a different truth.
But she’d given up on that happening when she was pregnant with Helena.
“I will be home for lunch,” he said into the silence between them.
“Why?” she asked in surprise.
