A Shameful Consequence - By Carol Marinelli Page 0,55

Connie to bring him. She walked, carrying her son, through the streets and the life that had been denied them, but somehow they had found this life anyway.

‘What will you do?’ She was still worried for her father.

‘I will look for my brother.’

‘I’ll help you to find him.’ But he knew that was not all she had been asking and she was brave enough to voice it. ‘I cannot ask you to forgive my father when I don’t think I ever will be able to …’ She started to cry, because they had done things so terrible to the man she loved yet still they were her parents.

‘One day you will forgive.’ He took a deep breath. ‘As one day I hope I can forgive the people who I call my parents. I give you my word, I will never make you choose …’ She started to cry some more, but with a weak stream of relief, for it sounded as if there might be a future, but it all seemed too big. He held her in his arms, their son between them, and he was stronger.

So strong that he took the son he had feared loving and for the first time held him in his arms, felt the fear that came when you loved, but understood now the reward of it.

‘I came here to kill him, Constantine. I drove into town and I was raging …’ She knew that, had seen him leave, had spoken to the toll man, but she listened as he held her and breathed in every word he spoke.

‘I went to the taverna, to our taverna.’ And though they had never set foot in it together, as she looked up, her eyes told him she understood. ‘I walked past our places, the beach where we ate, to the bush where we kissed, and then I walked to your door to face your father … That should have been how it was,’ Nico said. ‘Had I lived here in Xanos, I would be asking him for your hand, you would have been my bride a long time ago, which should make me hate him even more.’ But walking that route, Nico had realised love was bigger, that somehow they were so meant to be, love had assured this moment. He knew that by hurting others he would hurt her, too, and he always kept his promise. ‘It is a measure of how much I care for you and Leo that I will not destroy him.’ And she started to cry again, only not with relief, because she knew how impossible those words she craved were for him—could see why he had not wanted love, for so many times it had been taken from him.

‘Tell me …’ she said, because she needed to hear those words. ‘Tell me you love me.’

‘I just did, I told you how much I care. Why make me say it? We both know …’ And then he took a breath and said the words he never had before and had never thought that he would. ‘I love you.’ He gave her a smile and one that was for only her, and he made her laugh on a day she had thought she never would, because, as he told her, there was also some good news.

‘We get,’ Nico whispered, ‘another wedding night, another night where you are my bride.’

EPILOGUE

NOTHING could have prepared him for the impact of the telephone call.

Home, after a busy week of work, all Nico had intended was to take off his suit and join his new wife by the pool. It had been the simplest of weddings. The families were still too bruised for celebration, but slowly they were healing. With Charlotte as organizer and photographer, and Despina and Paulo as witnesses, they had married and returned to their hotel room for the second time, but legally now as husband and wife.

And Nico was happier than he had ever been, loved nothing more than to come home to his wife and to play with their chubby son, because finally he knew what evenings and weekends really were for.

Xanos was home.

He had been right. The house deeds showed that this had been his grandfather’s home and now, years later, by universal inheritance it was his. The jigsaw that hung on the wall was his grandfather’s artwork—a painting, Nico was sure, of himself and his brother, but unlike the jigsaw there were so many pieces missing. His search for Alexandros Kargas