Page 27 of Slightly Married
His apology didn’t make me feel better. Neither did the realization that I was the daughter of the woman who took Irida’s groom.
“I have to go,” I said, noticing we were approaching the Christakis estate’s gates. “We’ll talk later.”
I ended the call just as the car passed through the security checkpoint, immediately pulling up Simone’s contact. If anyone would understand my frustration with Daddy’s convenient memory loss, it would be my sister.
“That’s it, Mrs. Christakis. You did well.” I heard the snap of latex as Dr. Petrova removed her gloves before patting my knee. “Good luck.”
I lay on my back with my feet suspended in metal stirrups, wondering if there was a woman on this planet who didn’t feel utterly exposed in this position. The faint smell of cleaning products lingered in the air, unsuccessfully masked by the lavender room spray.
At my head sat Konstantin, looking criminally attractive in a navy polo that hugged his broad shoulders and tailored slacks. The casual attire was somehow more devastating than his usual suits. Seriously, who gave him permission to look gorgeous while I was spread-eagle on an exam table with my dignity nowhere to be found?
This was our second attempt at IUI, and despite the staff’s reassurances and efficiency, I wasn’t exactly loving the experience. The doctor slipped out with a soft click of the door, leaving Konstantin and me alone.
“Thank you for coming, Konstantin,” I said, fixing my gaze on a tiny crack in the ceiling tile. “But you don’t have to stay. I got this.”
He made no move to rise. “Do you think staying in this position helps with conception?”
“According to what I’ve read, yes.” I shifted, wincing at the paper’s loud protest. “And I do hope it works this time. I’d hate to have to go through this a third time.”
What I didn’t say was how crushing the negative results had been. I’d sat on the edge of my bathtub staring at the test, surprised by the tears that threatened.
Or how I’d spent the next day researching everything from fertility foods to meditation techniques, determined that my body wouldn’t fail me again. This marriage might be temporary, but the child we created would be forever, and I was already fiercely protective of that possibility.
“Is it painful?” His voice carried genuine concern.
“Uncomfortable.” I added with a small laugh. “Embarrassing, certainly. Nobody likes being stuck on their back like a dying beetle with their legs pointed toward heaven.”
He chuckled, the deep sound warming the air between us. I focused on doing my Kegels rather than the oddly intimate silence stretching between us.
“Please thank Andreas for the flowers he sent me,” I said, desperate to fill the quiet. “They were lovely, and very comforting.”
“I sent the flowers,” Konstantin replied.
“I’m willing to bet Andreas picked them out.” I smiled despite myself, picturing Konstantin’s efficient assistant selecting an appropriate arrangement while his boss signed the card.
“You’re right.” The smile was evident in his voice, a rare lightness I was beginning to recognize. “The last time we spoke, you mentioned you were working?”
“I am.” Sunlight streamed through the narrow window, imprinting soft, honey-colored patterns on the walls. Outside, Athens buzzed with midday energy.
“Is the financial support I provide not enough?” Konstantin asked, his tone reverting to businessman-mode.
“It has nothing to do with money,” I said, rolling my eyes though he couldn’t see from his position. “I love fashion and was offered the job of a personal stylist. Honestly, it’s not really work. I enjoy transforming how people present themselves to the world.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve found something to occupy your time.”
“By the way,” I said, “why didn’t you tell me your aunt was once engaged to my father?”
Konstantin’s chair creaked as he shifted. “I assumed you knew.”
“Well, I didn’t. I found out last week. It would have been nice to know why she’s been treating me like I tracked dog poop through her rugs.”
His silence stretched for several seconds. “I apologize. It happened when I was a child, but it’s well-known family history. I thought your father would have mentioned it.”
“Apparently it’s so ‘ancient history’ he claims he forgot all about it,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “Meanwhile, I’ve been enduring your aunt’s cold shoulder without understanding why.”
“Irida has never fully healed from that time,” he said quietly. “It was more complicated than a simple broken engagement.”
“How complicated could it be? My father fell in love with my mother instead.”
