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“She left Andrew because he spent almost half his time in Washington and she was lonely. Theirs was not a perfect marriage, Bella. I was the excuse she needed, the temptation she’d been looking for. Or maybe she just wanted to use me to hurt your father, like Lorenzo said. Maybe if I’d given in to her, it would have been over in a couple of days, out of her system. But she didn’t love me, she didn’t leave your father for me. There was, and never has been, anything substantial between us.”
Bella’s breath was shaky. “I want to believe you.”
“It’s Christmas eve,” he said, quietly. “A time for faith and miracles.”
A knock sounded on her door and she dashed away her tears. Her heart turned over in her chest. He was so far away, and now, more than anything, she just wanted to see him, to look into his eyes, to tell him…
“Do you want this marriage to work, Bella?”
Her pulse was thick in her veins. “I…”
She walked slowly from the kitchen, each step requiring effort as her brain tried to make sense of what she wanted and needed. It would be so much easier if she could see him, and look into his eyes and see the truth of what he was saying!
“Do you want to go to bed with me, to wake up with me, to stand beside me, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at whatever life throws our way? Do you want to raise this child with me, our daughter, and any more we are blessed with? Do you want to be my wife, and have me as your husband, knowing that no matter what you say now, I will love you forever more?”
Every fibre of her body screamed at her: yes! But she was besieged by doubts, by uncertainties. “There’s someone at the door,” she said in a rush. “I have to go.”
“Wait,” his voice was urgent, and she heard something from the other side of the door. “Just think about this. Imagine your life without me in it. Imagine living here, or Edinburgh, or Athens, wherever you wish, and knowing me to be an ocean away. Is that what you want?”
Every cell rejected that.
“Hang on a second,” she whispered, her heart hammering. She pulled the door inwards, and certainty flashed into her heart and soul like lightning cracking over a dam.
For there, on the doorstep, covered in snow, was the man her heart had been craving, the only man she’d ever loved, the father of her baby, and he was looking at her as though he couldn’t believe it was really her.
“Do you want me,” he said, stepping through the doorframe and bringing his body close to hers, “to make this better, agape? To take away all this pain and replace it each and every day with happiness and pleasure?”
She was shaking from head to toe, adrenaline and emotions rioting inside her. “Can you do that?” She whispered, already knowing he could, knowing that just seeing him again was filling her up with a rush of warmth she’d thought banished forever.
“Yes.” So emphatic! So confident! “If you’ll let me…”
She tilted her chin towards him, defiance in her eyes. “Promise?
”
“Cross my heart,” he said, moving closer still, pressing her back against the wall. Her eyes flew wide, her lips parted, and his gaze dropped to her mouth hungrily.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, honestly, lifting her hands to his shirtfront and grabbing it in her fists.
“I am very glad,” he said, the words roughened by emotion.
Her stomach kicked, and she grabbed his hands, dragging them down to the baby. She saw the wonder that crossed his face as he felt the proof of their child moving inside her.
“That is kind of weird,” he said, laughing, dipping his forehead to hers.
“Very,” she agreed, pressing up on tiptoes, so her lips were only a hair’s breadth from his.
He surrendered to the kiss first, brushing their mouths together, holding his there, before deepening the kiss. “I love you,” he said. “Se agapó.”
“Se agapó right back,” she repeated, into his mouth, breathing the words through his body, and he sucked them in, allowing himself to relax – slightly – for the first time since she’d walked away from him, insisting it was over.
“How did you know where I was?” She asked, later, when they lay in bed, limbs intertwined, looking at the snow that continued to fall beyond the window.
“Addan,” he said, stroking her hair, breathing her in, every moment relaxing him more and more.
“Seriously? How did you…?”
“Our fathers were also friends,” he said, thanking God for that. “He was worried Sophia would be angry, but I think he was even more worried I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown,” Vitalo confessed, only half-joking.
