Page 45 of Slightly Married
“Trust me, I know the risks,” I said, twisting my wedding ring. “But this feels different from Josh somehow. There’s something authentic underneath all the complications. I just need to figure out what it is before I get in too deep.”
“You’re already halfway there. Just keep your parachute handy, okay? And remember, you can always come home if things get messy. The jet is fueled and ready, just say the word.”
“I promise. I’ll call you tomorrow with updates. Love you—”
“Are you talking to him?” Konstantin appeared in the doorway, his expression hardening as his eyes fixed on my phone.
I ended the call with a quick tap, setting my phone face-down on the table. “Am I not allowed to make phone calls now? Should I submit a list of approved contacts for your approval? Maybe wear an ankle monitor?” I arched an eyebrow, challenging him.
“I like the idea.” His expression remained stern as he stepped onto the veranda.
“Of course you do,” I replied with an exaggerated eye roll. Rather than drag out this testosterone-fueled confrontation, I addressed the question nagging me for weeks. “What’s your issue with Yiorgos? And don’t brush me off with some vague non-answer.”
“So you were on the phone with him.”
“K, please,” I said, softening my tone. “I was talking to Simone, if you must know. And yes, I’m working as Yiorgos’ stylist, but there’s nothing romantic between us. Zero. Zilch. Nada.”
“I heard you two have been spending a lot of time together,” he stated, moving closer. “Going out to events, sharing meals. You visit his home.”
“Because I’m redoing his closet!” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “He’s a recent widower whose wife had horrible taste, and he wanted a change. As for my accompanying him to events, it’s curtailing the single women. Apparently, wealthy widowers are prime targets. Who knew?”
“Are you sure that’s all?” His eyes remained narrowed.
“Not every man wants me, K,” I said, unable to resist adding, “And even if they did, I don’t want them.” I held his gaze meaningfully, letting him draw his own conclusions.
“You underestimate your desirability,” he said, closing the distance between us.
“I’m still waiting to hear why you and Yiorgos are no longer friends,” I pressed, refusing to be distracted by his proximity. “I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me. And after your behavior yesterday, I think I deserve to know.”
He stood silent for a long moment. The muscles in his jaw worked as he seemed to debate with himself.
“There were four of us growing up,” he finally said. “Myself, Theo, Yiorgos, and Elana. We were inseparable from childhood through university.”
He moved to sit across from me, his eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the garden.
“Elana and I began dating in our final year of high school. We were together for nearly three years.” His voice carried no emotion. “I thought we were building a future together.”
I remained quiet, sensing that any interruption might cause him to stop.
“I planned a proposal,” he continued after a brief pause. “Arranged an elaborate dinner, bought the ring Yiorgos helped me choose. I had our entire future mapped out.”
His fingers drummed once on the table. “What I didn’t know was she had planned to end our relationship that same evening. She had been in love with Yiorgos for years, apparently. My closest friend.” The corner of his mouth tightened. “When I presented her with the ring, she confessed everything.”
He finally met my eyes, his expression carefully neutral despite the weight of the memory.
“They married three months later. I severed ties with both of them. Only Theo remained loyal.”
“That’s...” I searched for the right word, “incredibly shitty of both of them. I mean, feelings happen. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. But you can control your actions. She could have broken up with you before starting something with him.And he—” I shook my head in disbelief. “A real friend would have respected your relationship, or at least been honest.”
“You’re very certain about this,” he observed.
“Because I’ve been on the receiving end of betrayal,” I replied. “Different circumstances, but the same sick feeling when you realize people you trusted have been lying to your face.” I thought about Josh, about the signs I’d missed or ignored. “It makes you doubt your own judgment, doesn’t it? Makes you wonder what was real and what wasn’t.”
He studied me with newfound interest. “Yes,” he said simply. “It does.”
I rose slowly, moved to his side, and took his hand in mine. “That explains a lot,” I said. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” I squeezed his fingers. “But I promise you, there’s nothing between Yiorgos and me. Just a platonic work friendship. Nothing more.” I met his eyes. “I’m not Elana.”
“No, you’re not.” His eyes held mine.
