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Ana whitened.
“And before you even ask, no. My wife didn’t ask me to say or do any of this, and she doesn’t have to.” After leaving a hundred dollar bill on the table, Kyr stood up. “I mean every word, Ana.” His voice hardened. “Get the hell out of my life. Stop whatever it is you’re planning—-”
She started to argue, but he shook his head tiredly. “I know you. I have never been blind to your faults. Not once. But I only chose not to care in the past because I had loved you.”
“And now?” Ana asked painfully.
“Now, I love my wife. I love my family. I love them more than I love myself—-”
“It didn’t feel like it,” she interrupted harshly, “when I kissed you that night—-”
“Because that time, I had let my pride win.” His voice was grim. “And I’m paying the price for it.” His eyes turned cold. “So heed me now, for your sake.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No.” She looked up at him, defiance in her dark eyes, and it was obvious that she thought she was fighting for them. “I won’t let you do this to us. You love me. You have always loved me, and you will always love me.”
But she was talking to no one, because he had already started walking away long before she had finished speaking.
Ana choked back a sob, but it was no use.
She stared at Kyr’s back and wondered if she had really lost.
With every step Kyr took, the chains that had long locked him to his past started to fall, liberating him.
He thought about his past, and it was no longer anything else but the past, a time in his life that no longer possessed power over him.
He thought about his present.
He thought about his future.
And this time, he was no longer torn.
One day, his hatred against Ana would fade.
One day, his heart would be complete for Pollyanna.
He was as certain of it as he was certain that his wife was the woman he was destined to love.
I love you, Pollyanna.
He wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
I love you, Pollyanna.
He just hoped God would grant him another chance to be with his wife again.
BECOMING A SINGLE, working mother...
Was easier said than done, as Pollyanna came to realize. The first few days, she worked nonstop, applying online, sending out her resume using her maiden name and photos of her that were a far cry from her elegant self—-
Nothing like the cultivated image of Mrs. Kyrillos Gazis.
The thought came to her while she was seated alone in the dining room while editing her resume, and it had Pollyanna’s fingers freezing mid-air, inches over the keyboard.
Suddenly, she couldn’t help thinking that even if she did send out her resume with how she normally looked – as Kyrillos Gazis’ wife – it wouldn’t matter, once the world found out about HER. No matter how much makeup she wore, it wouldn’t ever make a difference. She would never be able to compare to the much-adored Ana.
Time passed, far more quickly than she wanted, and as rejection after rejection came to her inbox, Pollyanna knew that she was running out of time. School was starting in late September, and they had enrolled the twins at a private school in the mainland. Originally, she and Kyr had decided that they would be living in his home in Athens during the weekdays and sail back to Teleios for the weekends.
That had been the plan, but what now?
She tossed and turned in her bed that night, knowing she had to make a decision about it sooner or later. But the next day, there wasn’t any time at all for such thoughts. A couple of promising leads had her showing up for virtual interviews, one after another, but in the end none of them had still been willing to hire her.
So what now, she wondered tiredly as she came back home, having spent the entire day at the city library, which had a computer center that was open round the clock. Pollyanna hadn’t wanted her parents or children to know about her job interviews, knowing that if they did, they would also want to know how she had fared.
And what would she tell them?
That no one wanted to hire an inexperienced high school graduate?
Coming up the stairs, she checked on the twins first and saw to her surprise that they were already asleep. She checked her watch and blinked when she saw that it was already ten in the evening.
And she had promised the twins that she’d be telling them bedtime stories every night, Pollyanna thought miserably. She wasn’t even working yet, and she was already failing at multi-tasking.
She felt like she had aged fifty years by the time she returned to her bedroom, and she sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the walls. The silence in the house somehow made it worse. It felt...judgmental, the silence questioning her right to keep her children.
