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But she only shook her head at him.
“I love you, Polly. I love you.” And unable to stop himself, he cupped her face and kissed her hard. Her tears seeped into his kiss, and he kissed her harder as his heart broke for her. “Come back to me,” he begged rawly. “Come back to me, Polly. Please, come back to me.”
But all his wife could do was cry and shake her head at him. “Even if I come back to you, Kyr, it won’t be the same.” Her voice caught. “Because I’m not the same Polly anymore.”
She watched Kyr turn ashen at her words and even then, the hollowness inside her continued to grow.
She was so tired.
So damn tired.
Why was it that some people moved on so quickly, even after being married for decades?
Why was it that some people hated so easily, even when they had only suffered so little?
Why?
ON THE TWENTY-SIXTH of December, the day after Christmas, Pollyanna showed up unannounced at Ana’s hotel. When she had made her plans, it had hurt and angered her at the same time when she found out that Ana had been Greece this entire time. Was she waiting for Kyr to divorce her? Or were they already meeting behind her back?
She had so many questions, and none of them had any answers, but then, that was why she was here, wasn’t she?
Ana asked her up to her hotel room, something that Pollyanna was privately relieved about. More than anything else, she didn’t want her children to get a wind of what she was doing, if anything wrong happened.
Ana welcomed her in a breathtakingly sexy silk dress, its neckline daringly low and its back nearly nonexistent.
“I won’t lie,” Ana murmured as she led the way inside her suite. “I’m not at all surprised that you came. Girls like you have this ridiculous need for closure.” She gestured to the sofa, her lips curving in a condescending smile when Pollyanna shook her head. “Oh, of course, that uncivil attitude is so cliché, too.”
“I just came to say that he’s all yours,” she said tonelessly. The more time she spent in Ana’s company, the more she realized there was no point engaging in any verbal warfare with the other woman. Ana was older, more experienced, and most of all, she was bitchier, too.
Besides, what was the point of arguing, Pollyanna thought numbly. Hadn’t she come here to give Kyr up?
Having said her piece, she started to turn away when she heard Ana say, “He must have been desperate to choose someone like you to get over me.”
The words struck Pollyanna where it hurt the most, and she sucked her breath in hard.
“I’m sure you know he’s got me watched, too?”
She whirled around, shaking her head. “Why would you think—-”
Ana laughed humorlessly. “Oh, come on. Are you really that naïve? Your husband is a control freak—-”
She flinched. Didn’t Kyr use the same words to describe himself? Did it mean something? Should it?
“I’m sure, he’s already on his way here, intent on rushing to your rescue because he thinks I’m going to make you cry—-”
Pollyanna said stiffly, “I don’t give a damn about what he thinks—-”
“If you really mean that,” Ana sneered, “then let him go!”
Pollyanna shook her head. “Didn’t I just tell you that he’s—-”
“Oh, stop it with that self-sacrificing shit,” Ana snapped. “He’ll never leave you as long as you act as the victim!” She glared at Pollyanna with hatred. “Yes, I threw him away, and I was an idiot. But I want him back now. I love him. And if you don’t love him because you can’t forgive him for one kiss, then let him go. Give him back to me. FORGIVE HIM and let him go!”
Pollyanna paled.
Behind them, the door slammed open, and she knew, without looking, that it could only be one person.
Kyr appeared between them, blocking her view of Ana entirely, and he was cupping her face, his gaze desperate and anxious. “Are you alright, my love? Did she say anything to you?”
But she couldn’t answer because she was still reeling from Ana’s words.
Was that what she had been unconsciously doing all this time, she wondered dazedly. Was that why, no matter how much she wanted to forget him, to stop loving him, she couldn’t?
Was it because, deep down inside her, she was still her same weak self, and she had been holding on to her husband, not letting him go, not letting either of them move on?
And here he was again, she thought, just like Ana had predicted.
He had come to her rescue.
Because she was weak.
She stepped away, pushing out of Kyr’s hold. Ana started to laugh, and Kyr whitened. “Whatever she said,” he began tightly.
But Ana cut him off, saying with cruel pleasure, “She’s the one who—-”
“Shut up, Ana.” His voice was cold, but his gaze never left Pollyanna’s face. “Polly—-”
