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‘None...’ Mary blinked. ‘I even told him a bit about what had happened. He just asked me why you would forgive me when everything pointed to my guilt.’
‘Because I love you first,’ Costa said. ‘Then we deal with any problems.’
It was a world she’d doubted she would ever know again, and yet since Costa had come into her life she had been right slap-bang in the middle of it.
It was her parents’ love that had made her brave as a little girl. It was their love that allowed for risks.
And it was his love, Mary realised, that had coaxed her return.
‘I would be beyond happy to marry you,’ she told him.
As the cool metal slid onto her finger she felt its weight, and she lifted her hand to stare at the enchanting stone. It was indeed as blue as her eyes and as deep as her soul.
She looked up at Costa, her safe harbour, and her adventure too.
‘Can we have babies?’ she asked.
He rolled his eyes. ‘Yes.’
‘And live on Anapliró?’
‘We’ll go often,’ he said. ‘Veryoften,’ he conceded.
‘Are you going to call Yolanda and tell her?’
‘I’m not that Greek,’ Costa said, and he climbed onto the bed to kiss her, and hold her, and who knew what else...? ‘It’sourparty.’
EPILOGUE
MARYWOKEALONE.
Costa was at times surprisingly old-fashioned, and he had insisted they spend the night before their wedding apart.
It was a very tight timeline, and had been kept a huge secret due to all that was transpiring with Nemo. But she refused to think about any of that today.
The wedding would be on Anapliró.
They had planned to hold it in London, but her father’s leave to attend hadn’t been approved, and so, without him, they had moved the venue.
Costa had flown to Athens yesterday, for dinner with Galen and to tell him about the wedding and ask him to be his best man.
Mary lay in bed and looked at her ring to calm the flutter of panic in her chest. She wasn’t nervous about the day ahead—the journey to Anapliró and then to the gorgeous old church—she was excited for all that.
It was leaving London.
Though both Costa and her father had done their best to reassure her, she felt as if she was leaving her father behind. She had visited him yesterday, said her goodbyes, and sworn she’d be back very soon.
Mary climbed out of bed and pulled on a wrap as someone knocked at the door and her breakfast was delivered.
‘The hairdresser will be here in thirty minutes,’ the butler informed her.
‘Thank you.’
It was averytight schedule.
Costa was holding true to his faith, and there were many traditions, yet Mary could not shake the feeling that she was missing one of her own.
More than one.
