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Crouching down, he asked, “Is anything wrong?”

His son didn’t speak right away.

“I can’t help you if you don’t let me know what’s wrong,” he said gently.

Dio chewed on his lip before saying reluctantly, “I saw Mama crying in the bathroom.”

Ah.

“I don’t like seeing Mama sad,” the boy added fiercely, his gaze bright with tears.

Kyr patted his son’s head. “I understand. I don’t like seeing Mama sad, too.” But the problem was, he knew the reason behind his wife’s sadness...and it was him.

Looking into his son’s eyes, he said seriously, “I’ll do my best to cheer her up when I get back home.”

Dio frowned, as if not entirely trusting his father was up to the task. “Promise?”

He almost smiled. “Promise.”

“Okay.” Dio’s reluctance was obvious in his tone, and watching his son enter the school’s premises, he knew by the way Dio still had his head bowed that the matter hadn’t been completely settled in his mind.

Returning to the limousine, he surprised his chauffeur by telling him to drive home instead of the resort. Settling back in his seat, Kyr closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from thinking back on the months that had gone past.

Several months had passed since her birthday, and he knew now that he had not been as successful as he thought he had in hiding his emotions from her.

She might not have known why he had changed, but she had noticed that he had changed.

And it started, he thought heavily, the night of her birthday, when she had told him about Ana’s divorce.

That night, he had made love to her almost mechanically, arousing both of them with practiced ease, but Kyr had known his heart hadn’t been in it. He had hated himself for it, but he hadn’t been able to stop it.

Ana was getting a divorce.

The words had repeated over and over in his mind, and he had lain awake that night, thinking about a thousand what-if scenarios. They varied a lot, from Ana crying on his shoulder, to him pretending to bump into her in Beverly Hills. But one thing that all those scenarios had in common was that if he did anything to contact Ana, it would break his wife’s heart.

Even if he only wanted to talk to his ex, even if he would never betray Polly, he knew that his wife would never understand, and a part of him started to resent her for it.

The more rumors he heard about Ana’s controversial divorce spread, the more he wanted to talk to Ana, and the more he began to hate the shackles of marriage.

But of course he hadn’t told Pollyanna anything about it, because even he himself knew that he was being unfair.

When he came back home, panic stirred inside him when the butler told Kyr that his wife was not at home.

“And where is she?” It took everything in Kyr to keep his voice even. If his wife had left him, he thought, what would he do?

Then he heard the butler say, “She is visiting her godparents, Master Kyr.”

“I see.” Relief had him swinging almost clumsily around as he sought to hide his expression from the other man. She had not left him. Kyr sucked his breath in. But she could still leave him, if he didn’t make it up to her.

When he made it to the Floros, Ezio was waiting for him at the porch. “She’s at the greenhouse with the wife.”

He nodded stiffly and remained there, knowing that the older man had not waited for him for nothing.

“She was crying,” Ezio said finally.

“I’ll make it up to her.”

“Does it have anything to do with our daughter?”

He didn’t answer.

“You should tell her the truth before she finds out any other way,” Ezio warned quietly. “I know none of the locals will talk. They owe their livelihoods to you, and certainly we would never want to hurt her for anything. But secrets like this...they always end up exposed, sooner or later.”

He knew Ezio meant well, but Kyr also knew he would not be able to follow the older man’s advice. Pollyanna was just too sensitive. She would never understand, and he would never risk their marriage for anything.

When he entered the greenhouse, Dinah was the first one to see her and she automatically excused herself. He thanked her quietly, but his eyes were on his wife, and he didn’t miss the way she had flinched at the sound of his voice.

Ah, psaraki.

I’m sorry.

When he came to stand behind her, Pollyanna’s shoulders had already started to shake, and when he said rawly, “I’m sorry,” the way she audibly struggled to keep the sound of her sobs from escaping filled the greenhouse.

She moved as if to leave him, and he didn’t let her, hauling her to him. He tightened his arms around her, and he kissed her hair, saying hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”

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