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He had turned to her, tears in his eyes, and it had been the first and only time she had seen him cry. He looked like he had glimpsed the most beautiful thing in his life, but that look hadn’t come when he was looking at the twins.
He had that look when he was gazing at her.
Someone knocked on the door, and Pollyanna blinked rapidly as she found herself staring at her tear-stained face on the mirror.
Behind her, she heard Kyr’s voice.
“You don’t have to do this.”
So much guilt in that voice, but it didn’t make her feel good at all.
She squeezed her eyes hard.
I have to be strong.
She needed to do this, but it wouldn’t be for the hundreds of guests waiting for them to celebrate eight years of marriage.
She needed to do this for those four beautiful innocent souls waiting for them outside their room, four wonderful children she had brought into this world to love and not to hurt.
She needed to be strong for them.
WHEN POLLYANNA CAME out of the master bedroom’s bath, she was a little too pale, a little too vulnerable, and the first thing she realized was that Kyr wasn’t alone. Leo and the twins had joined him, and the nanny was also there, with their sleeping daughter in her arms.
She saw the fear and worry darkening the twins’ gazes, and her heart lurched.
It wasn’t right that they were worrying about her.
And the thought made her move unthinkingly, her limbs guided by a mother’s innate need to protect.
When a smile broke on their mother’s face, the twins smiled, too, their bodies relaxing. And the worry in their gazes gradually faded as they watched their parents hold hands. Kyr bent down to scoop Leo in his arms while Pollyanna took Annalisa from the nanny.
Together, the six of them walked to the ballroom, and the guests all came to their feet, welcoming them with thunderous applause.
It was almost like her wedding day again, with all eyes on her, and the realization made her eyes blur for one moment.
She was lost in her memories, remembering how she had walked down the aisle, frightened of the way the unknown had loomed in front of her.
What was she doing, marrying at eighteen, and to a man she had only known for barely two months?
She remembered how she had looked up, wanting to cry out that it was a mistake, but then she had seen him—-
Kyrillos Gazis.
Waiting for her at the end of the aisle, dashing and debonair, every inch the Greek god he was, and he had her old, big bag slung on one shoulder.
He had everyone laughing hard, and his photos had been all over the Internet in seconds. But he hadn’t cared.
At his most uncool, he had never looked more beautiful to her.
That man had been the sweetest man in the world—-
And she had seen that same man kissing another woman on their eighth wedding anniversary.
The sea of faces blurred around her.
Oh, God.
She couldn’t do this.
Her desperate gaze flew to her husband. His face was ashen, his jaw clenched, and she knew then that no matter how much they persisted, he would not do it. At least he had that much honor, at least he seemed to know how it would destroy her, to kiss him now.
The guests were tapping their glasses, cheering one word.
Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.
None of them knew that each word was making her remember Kyr, kissing a woman that was not HER.
HE HAD KISSED ANOTHER WOMAN THAT WASN’T HER!
Oh God.
She wanted to scream at the pain of it.
She couldn’t do this. She had to leave. She was broken. She was dead.
But then she felt Annalisa breathing trustingly against her breasts—-
She heard Leo babble baby talk to her husband.
She saw the twins making faces, waiting for their parents to embarrass them.
And she knew what she had to do.
Kyr took one look at his wife’s face and his blood ran cold. He knew what she was about to do, and why she was doing it, and if he had thought she was hurting before, he knew it was nothing compared to how Pollyanna was feeling now.
Forgive me, my love.
Forgive me.
The guests were still chanting, louder and louder.
Kiss, kiss, kiss.
His wife slowly reached out to him, her hand trembling so violently, and he knew he could not let her kiss him after what she had just seen, not even for the kids.
He caught hold of her hand and brought it to his lips instead.
The crowd let out a loud but friendly boo, but he didn’t give a damn.
He pressed his lips harder to her soft hand, feeling it tremble even more powerfully in his hold.
“I love you,” he whispered rawly. “I love you, Pollyanna. I love you.”
She began to weep, tears falling fast and hard on her face, and the crowd went aaaaah. Women started to sniff at the same time people began taking photos, none of them realizing they were looking at a girl whose heart had just been broken by the man she loved for eight years.
