Page 71 of Slightly Married
“Whoa. Who died?” I blurted, then immediately winced. “Sorry, bad choice of words considering everything. What happened? Did the stock market crash? Did Santo wreck another car? Did Dimitrios finally admit where he hides for months at a time?”
“Tia just ended her engagement with Santo,” he said. “She’s leaving Greece.”
My mouth dropped open so fast I practically dislocated my jaw. “I’m sorry, what? She did WHAT?” I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. “That’s impossible. We were literally just having tea together like twenty minutes ago, and she was fine! Well, as fine as anyone can be discussing a thirty-year-old murder, but still!”
“She and Santo had an argument. I don’t know all the details, but—” He hesitated, then straightened his shoulders. “We need to talk about Matthaios.”
“Matthaios?” I frowned, my brain struggling to make the connection between Tia leaving and K’s mysterious cousin who I’d never met. “What does he have to do with—”
My stomach lurched again, but this time it wasn’t excitement. I clapped my hand over my mouth and made a desperate dash toward our en-suite bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before another round of violent retching began.
“Kayla!” K was behind me in an instant, his large hand gathering my braids away from my face while his other hand steadied my shoulder.
I heaved until there was nothing left but painful dry spasms, bringing tears to my eyes. Through it all, K remained with me.
When the worst passed, he wordlessly handed me a cool, damp washcloth. I pressed it against my face. It felt heavenly against my clammy skin.
“This baby hates me,” I groaned, leaning back against K’s chest. “What did I ever do to deserve this kind of treatment? I’m literally growing you rent-free, little one. Show some respect.”
K’s chuckle rumbled through his chest against my back. He reached around me to flush the toilet, then helped me to my feet with gentle but firm hands.
“Remember when I used to be glamorous?” I asked, catching sight of my pale face, watery eyes, and the sheen of perspiration across my forehead.
“You’re beautiful.” K’s eyes met mine in the mirror.
I snorted. “You need your vision checked.”
His expression remained serious as he turned me to face him. “I mean it, Michaila. You’re carrying my child. There’s nothing more beautiful to me.”
“Who would have thought,” I said softly, reaching up to touch his face, “that throwing up would become one of our relationship milestones?”
He captured my hand, turning it to press a kiss to my palm. “I prefer to think of it as one of many steps in our journey.”
“Very romantic for a man who once had a wife and a fiancée,” I teased.
“That engagement was my penance.” He splayed his hands over my stomach. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever truly chosen. The only one I ever will.”
His confession landed with the weight of a promise. I stood perfectly still, speechless as love bloomed in my chest and spread outward.
“Well, damn. That’s... that’s a pretty good answer.”
K reached past me to retrieve my toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste onto it before handing it to me. I accepted the toothbrush. This moment felt more intimate than any sexual encounter we’d shared.
“For the record,” I said after a moment, meeting his gaze in the mirror, “I choose you too. Morning sickness, murder investigations, family drama and all.”
I smiled as I added, “Though I reserve the right to be occasionally dramatic about all of the above.”
As I brushed my teeth, K dampened another washcloth and wiped the back of my neck. I leaned into his care, accepting this tenderness.
“Do you need to sit for a moment?” he asked after I was done brushing my teeth.
“No,” I said, already halfway to the door. “I need to find Tia. “
I paused at the doorway, one hand on the frame as I looked back at my husband. “But don’t think you’re off the hook, mister. When I get back, you’re telling me everything.”
The look that crossed K’s face was so complex I couldn’t begin to decipher it, but there was no time to analyze it now. I had a friend to comfort.
As I hurried through the mansion’s corridors, my mind raced with questions. What could have happened between Tia and Santo in the span of half an hour? And what did Matthaios have to do with any of this?
