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She saw that all her fantasies about the future had been without substance…a mist easily dispelled when exposed to the burning light of reality. Impossible. All of them. But maybe she could save another woman from having her dreams shattered.
Certainly agreeing to marry Dimitri would preserve Phoebe’s father’s hopes for the future. It would ensure her little brother his birthright. It would maintain her mother’s standard of living—Basila’s sense of her place in the world.
Phoebe could not stand to see her father broken, as he would be if he lost the company. Nor could she allow her mother to be shamed, as she would be if that were to happen.
She knew what she had to do. She had to be the adult Spiros had reminded her she was. But she let herself grieve the loss of her own dreams, crying until she was empty of emotion and numb to the pain.
Then she drove home, sneaking in the back way so no one would see her with puffy eyes and streaks of mascara down her cheeks.
That evening she told her father that she would marry Dimitri.
He thanked her and told her he’d known she would not let the family down, that it was for the best. She did not disagree, but she remained stiff when he embraced her.
It was not anger that kept her so, but apathy.
He announced the upcoming wedding to her mother and Chrysanthos over dinner. Her brother made a joke about getting married right out of university. A few hours ago it would have stung. Thankfully, now she was too numb to be affected.
Basila immediately began making wedding plans, asking Phoebe her opinion on this, that and the other. Only Phoebe didn’t have an opinion. She simply didn’t care. She agreed to anything her mother wanted, smiling when her mother wanted her to smile and assuring Basila that she could have free rein with the preparations.
“You young women today—you have no sense of romance,” Basila lamented.
Phoebe just shrugged, studiously avoiding the odd looks her father kept sending her. She didn’t see anything remotely romantic about an arranged marriage, but maybe that was just her.
She liked the numbness, though. It was better than pain and disappointment.
It even made it easy for her to answer Spiros’s many messages, left on her voicemail while she had been purging her emotions through tears earlier.
“Phoebe! Are you all right?” Spiros asked.
“Yes, of course.”
He was silent for a second. “Byba…we need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.”
“I should have asked what was bothering you…I should not have remained so aloof in my office.”
“It does not matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
“As you said, my problems are not your responsibility. I’m a grown woman and it’s time to put my childish thoughts behind me.” She had a duty to her family and she would fulfill it.
“Uh…Phoebe…?”
“I don’t need a shoulder to cry on.” And if she did she would never again go to him. He was off-limits. She wanted to remain numb, but more than that she wanted to stop loving him, and their friendship had only fed her feelings. It was time to starve them. “I told my father tonight that I would keep my promise to marry Dimitri.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“I…uh…”
“You will be my brother for real.” For a moment the numbness was pierced, and agony made her almost bend double, but she forced herself to straighten and pushed the pain away to that place deep inside where it could not make her cry anymore.
“Phoebe? Are you okay?” He sounded like he really cared.
“My mother is already making wedding plans,” she said, rather than answer that question again.
