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The connection broke and Kosta smiled. All he really had to do was wait and Athena would come to him.
The next few days were nightmarish for everyone, but particularly for Simon who now had Athena to worry about. But with Kosta in Athens and Athena on Halithos, there wasn’t much danger of mischief. He could deal with them after the funeral.
It was an enormous funeral, too. Friends, relatives, and business associates came from all over the world to pay their respects. And a staggering number chose to remind Simon of the one thing he didn’t want to think about at all: He was now head of the family, and the owner of the Katsaros Company. He didn’t know the first thing about the business, but he was being flung headlong into it. It made him feel quite ill to think about how he was going to handle things.
Eirene noticed, understood, and stood by him. In quiet moments when it was just the two of them, sitting close and holding hands, she would remind him that she was there for him, that she’d help in any way she could.
“Let’s get married.”
“We will.”
“No… not the big wedding. I can’t do that. Let’s just elope. I want to be married to you, but I can’t bear the thought of going through with all that fuss.”
She squeezed his hand. “Whatever you want, I want,” she assured him. “We’ll wait a week or two and then just slip off and do it quietly, all right?”
“Perfect.” He kissed her softly, wondering if their nascent sex life would ever recover from the blow grief had dealt it. They had only just become lovers before the engagement, and were still terribly tentative with each other. After Nick and Helena died, Simon had withdrawn physically, unable to find a way through the terrible fog of misery that hung over him. Eirene understood. She never pressured him, never complained. But Simon felt as if he’d never want to make love to anyone, not even Eirene, again.
He had tried to raise the subject with her, talk about his concerns, but her reply had been a quiet one. “Love is patient,” she’d said. But what if patience wasn’t enough? He felt so emptied out by grief that he wondered if he could even still love. Was what he thought he felt for Eirene and Athena love or just a habit of mind?
Beyond that, he was consumed by guilt. He wondered how he could have prevented their deaths even knowing that it was so far outside of his control that even thinking those thoughts was verging on crazy. He felt guilty for not having spent more time with them. He had lived his empty, selfish life, always assuming that they’d be there when he felt like spending time with them.
And he felt guilty for his ties to Kosta, for the business he had become involved in. He’d known that there was more to it than Kosta had ever said, that it was no nearly as benign as he’d wanted to believe. But a part of him had always felt that if he simply looked the other way, he wasn’t as culpable as Kosta, that his hands would stay cleaner. Now he saw so clearly how wrong he’d been, how misguided. When he thought about what his parents would have said about it… what they might be thinking of him if they were watching him from Heaven (And he had no doubt that’s where they had gone.), and it made him feel sick with guilt.
His depression deepened over the days following the funeral until he could barely get out of bed. That was when Eirene put her foot down. She told him he had to get up and go talk to a doctor. She couldn’t marry someone who wouldn’t be a partner.
For love of her, Simon stirred himself.
It was such a relief when Simon finally sought some help for his depression. Though Eirene had never lost anyone who was as close to her as Simon’s parents had been to him, she understood how devastating the loss could be. Athena worked it out with tears and anger, spending hours a day in the gym, or jogging around the island. She exhausted herself and little-by-little Eirene saw Athena’s grief begin to resolve itself into acceptance.
But Simon couldn’t seem to move on. Certainly the weight of the Katsaros empire was heavy on him now, and contributed to his anxiety. But the longer he went without resolution, the worse this was going to become. So Eirene marched into his bedroom one morning and told him that if he didn’t get up and go get help, she was calling off the engagement.
She’d made an appointment for him and she said she’d take him to see the doctor. She would do everything she could to help, but Simon had to help himself. When he got up and got dressed, her relief was palpable.
The first step was medication, and within days she could see an improvement. Simon’s anxiety ebbed and he became more his old self. She could tell that he was still having dark moments, and that he was having a hard time motivating himself, but the most crippling part of his condition was resolving itself.
Athena went back to school. Simon seemed reluctant to let her go, but in the end, he’d said, “Please don’t do anything rash, Athena. And your friend? Please be careful there.” But he never explained what he meant. When asked, he simply looked tired and said, “Please trust me on this.”
Several months after the funeral, just a few weeks shy of the date they’d originally set for the wedding, Simon and Eirene were married quietly on Halithos. Athena flew back in from London, alone this time, and Eirene’s family attended. It was not the joyous affair Eirene had hoped for, but it wasn’t the somber one she’d feared. Simon seemed in better spirits, even a bit frisky.
She really didn’t know what to expect from the wedding night. Their sex life had been cut so short by the tragedy and Simon’s depression that if nothing at all happened between them beyond a kiss or two, she wouldn’t have been too surprised. She was prepared to wait for him, but at the same time, she missed his touch.
As lovers, they had only just begun to know each other. Their lovemaking had been tentative. Exciting, yes, but still so new, and so tied up with learning about each other that it had never become full and rich. She wanted to know Simon inside out. She wanted to explore every possible avenue of desire with him, to find the deepest wellsprings of passion.
But she was willing to wait. He was there with her; they would find each other again.
That night, they went up to their bedroom and Simon sat down on the bed. He patted the spot beside himself and said, “Come and sit, my darling.”
Eirene sat beside him.
“I have so much to atone for,” he began.
“No. Oh no, Simon, you have nothing to be sorry for.” She touched his cheek and he leaned into it. “You are coping with a huge loss, and I understand that.”
“You are so good for me,” he told her. “You are my best medicine.” He leaned in and kissed her softly.
They had shared kisses, many of them, but this one felt promising, as if they were moving toward something. When he kissed her again, cupping her face in his hands, she knew she’d been right. He was ready to try again, ready to be her husband and her lover.
He touched the silk of her dress with tender fingers, as if it was an extension of her flesh, and she felt it slip off her shoulder to pool on her lap, baring her breasts. He smiled as he looked at them. “So beautiful,” he murmured, touching one nipple with his thumb. Such a soft touch, but it was enough to send a thrill of pleasure coursing through Eirene like an electric shock. She shivered, grasped his hand and pressed it to her breast, letting him cup it.
