by Pippa Roscoe
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SOFIA HADN’T STOPPED crying for two days. She hadn’t left her room in Iondorra’s palace, she hadn’t met with the council to help create the statement that would stop the wedding in three days’ time, and even her sleep was broken by huge sobs that racked her body and tears that fell down her cheeks.
From the moment she had left Theo in the hotel by the lake it had felt as if her world had shattered, and somewhere deep down she knew that she deserved it. There were things she needed to do, but her mind couldn’t hold on to them. It was as if her thoughts were being filtered, all else dropping away, to leave only grief and sorrow. If she had expected numbness, a deep, quiet agony to blanket over her heart, it had not happened.
Instead she felt raw, the constant dull ache of her broken heart her only companion.
‘I’m trying to tell you that I love you... You’re the one who is walking away...you’re lying to yourself.’
Theo’s words punctuated each breath, each thought. Because he was right. Once again, she had his heart. He loved her and she was walking away—only this time, she really was aware of what that meant. He had proclaimed to want to teach her the consequences of her actions...and now? She fully understood them.
She had been so sure in herself, so sure that she was right, putting her country first before a man who would have ruined it. Who preached consequences and gave no thought to the ones his own actions would have caused.
But beneath the words that ran around her head on a loop were the ones she didn’t want to inspect. Didn’t want to listen to, or believe. The ones that proclaimed her to be afraid of being loved for who she was and not what she was. As if the two things could be separated so easily.
This morning she had had marginally more success than the day before. She had made it to the bathroom and forced herself into the shower. Standing before the large mirror, she wiped away the steam and condensation from the cool, slick surface and stared at herself.
Her eyes, red-rimmed from the crying and a startling blue, stared back in accusation. Coward.
Sofia shook her head against her inner voice. No, she mentally replied. Broken-hearted.
She reached for the thick towelling robe and cinched it tight around her waist. All she wanted to do was go back to bed and pretend that the world didn’t exist. She could have another day, surely. Because ten years ago, she hadn’t been allowed even a minute, leaving the school and being thrust immediately into hours of lessons, measured, poked and prodded into the right dresses, as she kissed goodbye that moment out of time she’d had with Theo, kissed goodbye the young woman who had found fun and enjoyment and...love.
And four years ago, when Antoine had died, the world’s press had documented her tearless grief—the loss of a man so precious to her... And for a moment she hated Theo. Hated him for showing her the truth of her relationship with Antoine—her friendship. Yes, she had loved him, but his loss had not had this devastating effect on her and somehow it made her feel as if she were betraying both men all over again.
Re-entering the suite of her rooms, she stifled a cry of shock with the back of her hand when she saw her mother standing beside the large window, looking out at the view. Shock turned into fear with lightning speed.
‘Father, is he—?’
‘He is fine, Sofia. He is not the one I’m worried about right now.’
Sofia’s emotions seesawed, and guilt stirred in her breast. Was she so starved of love that her mother’s concern—the simple fact that Sofia was being put first—made something shift in her heart? Guilt, hurt and love all mixed together in the headiest of potions, and for the first time that Sofia could remember in years she ran to her mother’s arms and cried.
After what felt like hours, her mother released her and led her to the window seat.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘One of the staff was concerned when you refused to eat anything yesterday.’
Sofia wanted to hide, wanted to stay wrapped in her mother’s arms, but knew that she could not. Slowly, haltingly, the words tumbled out. Of what had happened to Theo since she had left that night, of how he had orchestrated their engagement, but her words grew stronger as Sofia told her mother of how they had talked of the past, of the secrets she had entrusted to him, of the love she felt for him, and finally what had happened the night of the gala.
Her mother was quiet for a long while.
‘Did you... Is it that you thought you couldn’t have both?’
‘After I left the boarding school, everything became about doing what was right for Iondorra and...’
‘You didn’t feel that you could have something for yourself?’
‘I didn’t know how to have both,’ Sofia replied helplessly. ‘It had, has, always been him. And I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t do what...’
‘What was done to you.’
Sofia could hear the hurt in her mother’s voice, the sheen of tears in the older woman’s eyes almost too much to bear. She knew her words would hurt her mother. Knew that her mother would understand in an instant, that they had moved away from talking of Theo, and towards herself.
‘Oh, my love,’ her mother said, shaking her head. ‘I’m so sorry that you felt that way. I... We...’ Her words were interrupted by the shaking of her mother’s head as she struggled to find the words that Sofia half feared. ‘We never wanted you to feel that way. We love you dearly. And I am truly sorry that you ever felt as if you had no choice about your role.’
‘I had to change so much about who I was, Mama. So much. But being with Theo again reminded me of who I once had been. And I missed that. I missed who I was.’
‘And he helps you find that person you once were?’
‘But it doesn’t matter,’ Sofia said, shrugging helplessly. ‘His actions would have hurt Iondorra.’
‘But they didn’t, my love. And I am so happy that he brought something of you back to you. Because I have seen that smile...the one I thought lost ten years ago. I have seen what you are with him, the night of your engagement, and what you could be, in my heart’s greatest hope.’
Her mother drew her into her arms again and this time Sofia let go. Let go her fears, her resentments, the part of her she thought lost, found and lost again.
‘Sofia, the crown, the country, it is important. But it is not worth the sacrifice of your heart. Theo,’ she sighed, a small smile curving at the corner of her mouth, ‘is clearly a man who made certain choices, and although that was his plan, did you believe him when he said he no longer wanted to abandon you? Did you believe the love he said to feel for you?’
‘I don’t know if I can trust him, Mama.’
‘Trust him with what?’
Sofia frowned, unsure of what her mother was getting at. Seeing her daughter’s confusion, she pressed on. ‘Trust him not to make mistakes? Sweetheart, we all make mistakes, all the time. Just look at me and your father. Do you trust him to love you and be there for you? Do you trust him with your heart?’
‘But how can I trust him with Iondorra?’
‘Oh, Sofia. My one wish for you is not that you have someone who puts the country first, but who puts you first.’
For so long, everything had been about Iondorra. Leaving school, her first marriage, even the way she had planned her second marriage. The thought that it was even possible for someone to put her first, for her to allow that... Horror and hope mixed within the chambers of her heart, rushing out through her veins and around her body, setting it on fire with adrenaline.
Could she do such a thing? Could she really give herself over to that sense of trust...of love?
For two hours after her mother had left, with promises to return more often, to make more time for the two of them, Sofia stared at her phone.
Her heart knew what she wanted to do, and Sofia waited for her mind to catch up.
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She dialled his number, her heart fluttering wildly, and was almost thankful when it went to the answering machine.
‘Theo, I... There is so much we need to say to each other. But more importantly, I want you to know that I love you. I really do. And if you do love me, if you can forgive me the way we parted, then I will see you at the church in three days’ time. Because I want nothing more than to become your wife. I want nothing more than to stand by your side for the world to see. I want nothing more than to show the world how much I love you and want to spend the rest of my life telling you that, each and every day. If you don’t come, then I understand and will not hold it against you. I will issue a statement that takes full responsibility for the end of our engagement. But no matter what, please, please know that I love you.’
* * *
Theo sat on the stairs of his mother’s decking, looking out at his vineyards from the veranda. He fished the phone out from his trouser pocket and threw it behind him, and leant his elbows on his thighs. It had been two days since he’d returned to Greece from Iondorra and he hadn’t slept a wink. The early morning rays from the sun heated the rain-soaked earth, covering the ground in an unworldly mist, swirling in the still morning air.
For two days he had thought of little else than Sofia, of what she had said to him, of how she had accused him of being unable and unwilling to forgive, not her, not his father, but himself. The guilt that had settled about him that night had been slowly revealed as the layers of hurt and shock from their argument had dissipated. It was as if Sofia’s words had picked at an invisible thread, wound tight around his heart—as if she had tugged on it, showing him proof that it existed, that it had bound his young heart and the muscle had grown around that binding... And he could no longer ignore it.
He had tried to lose himself in estate business, but that had failed and finally his feet had brought him to his mother’s door. And although she woke early, five o’clock in the morning was perhaps a little much to be banging on her door and seeking...what? Answers? Advice? Forgiveness?
The smell of coffee hit his nose long before he detected the sound of his mother moving about in the house, and before he could get up from the wooden decking, his mother opened the door and wordlessly handed him a cup of the strong, fresh Greek coffee that he loved so much.
She went to sit beside him on the steps, and he rose in protest but she shooed him back down.
‘I am not so old that I cannot sit on the steps with my son and look at the amazing things he has done. I do it even when you’re not here, Theo. It is my favourite place in the world.’
Theo felt a heaviness within him. The weight of all the unanswered questions, of the guilt and anger and pain, resting on top of his already tightly bound heart...he thought he might actually break under the weight of it.
‘I did something unforgivable, mitéra,’ he said.
His mother humphed. ‘There is very little in this world that is unforgivable, yié mou.’
He swept a hand over his face, scrubbing away the exhaustion and doubts and all the things that worked to stop his words in his throat, and opened his heart to his mother.
‘I had this plan. This...act of revenge I wanted to take against Sofia for leaving me all those years ago. I blamed her for...everything. And all this time, it was me. I thought it was her fault, what happened to me at school, the expulsion, having to come back here... But those decisions and choices were mine—yet I would have humiliated her in front of the world.’
For a moment, his mother seemed to consider his words.
‘But you did not.’
‘Yet I would have.’
She smiled at him in the way only a mother could. ‘But you did not.’
‘The outcome will be the same. The cancelled wedding will ruin her.’
Aggeliki rocked her head from side to side as if to say maybe, maybe not, and he knew that there was only one thing to make her realise the truth of what he was feeling.
‘I would have left her, just like my father left you.’
Aggeliki sighed and blew the deep breath over her coffee before sipping at the thick dark liquid. ‘Theo, your father...he... I have not really spoken of him, because you never seemed to want to, or be ready to, hear of him. He was—’ she let loose a little laugh ‘—charming—a little like his son. Very handsome—a lot like his son. But insincere and careless—nothing like his son.’
‘Do you regret it?’ Do you regret me?
‘Agápi mou, no. I gave him my heart, and he gave me you. And I would do the same again and again, because you are my joy. He may have been my sadness, but you? You are my happiness and more precious to me than anything in the world.’
‘If I hadn’t been expelled I could have gone to university, and we wouldn’t have had to struggle, we wouldn’t have nearly lost everything when you became ill, we could have...’
‘Could, would, should? Theo, you seem to think that it all would have been so easy for you had you not loved Sofia back then. But look at what you have now. Look at what you’ve achieved. It is impossible to say what might have happened if you had not been expelled, but it is undoubtable what did happen, and what you have now.’
‘But we wouldn’t have had to come back here. You wouldn’t have had to feel beholden to your family, the cruelty and prejudice you experienced... And then with the vineyard... The hours, days, weeks, years of hard work—’
‘I wouldn’t change a thing. Life is not meant to be easy, Theo. Easy is...nothing,’ she said, throwing her hands up as if throwing around air. ‘Meaningless. It is the hard work that makes it all the more precious and wondrous. It is the difficult times, the sacrifices that make the joy all the more valuable, the love. And every sacrifice you think I’ve made? I would do it again and again, because I love you.’
‘But Sofia is right. I would have brought humiliation not just to her but her country.’
‘But you did not,’ his mother repeated with much more emphasis than before.
‘All this time, all I have thought about is myself, the vengeance I wanted, the debt I felt she owed.’
‘Theo, from what I saw of Sofia, of the truly brave and powerful woman I met, she carries that burden herself. And will always carry that burden. But it is for her to do. You? You are the only one who can help her. The Sofia that you fell in love with ten years ago, and the Sofia that is the woman she has become. Yes, she may have to think of her country first...but you? You get to think of her first.’
He felt his mother’s words deep within his chest. He felt her acceptance of his sins, his mistakes, ease some of the guilt in his heart. Soothe the way towards his own forgiveness for himself. Not for his attempt at revenge, but something deeper. But was it enough?
Theo stood and rolled his shoulders, flexing the ache from his muscles before placing a kiss on his mother’s cheek.
‘I need some time to think.’
Aggeliki nodded in response.
‘Maybe I’ll go and see Sebastian for a few days, but I’ll be back. Soon, I promise. I love you,’ he said, placing one last kiss on Aggeliki’s forehead before walking back to the estate through the miles of vineyards between the two buildings.
Within minutes he was too far from his mother’s house to hear his phone vibrate with an incoming call, and within hours the phone’s battery had died, long before Theo returned to retrieve Sofia’s voicemail.
* * *
What on earth had she been thinking?
As Sofia stood tucked behind the door at the back of a church packed full of nearly eight hundred of the world’s leading figures, she couldn’t stop the tremors that had taken over her body. Was this how Theo had felt that night ten years ago? Hopeful that she would arrive and fearful that she wouldn’t?
She cast a quick glance to where her assistant was peering through a small sliver of space in the doorway, watching for
Theo’s arrival at the wedding that Sofia had never cancelled. The scared look in the young woman’s eyes enough to tell her that Theo was still not there.
She had sent her father back to sit with her mother, after kind, coherent words of love had eased an age-old ache, but not this fresh one. And this time she had not batted her father’s words away, but really listened, taken them to her heart and held them to her as if something astounding and precious.
She tried to take a breath, but the tightly corseted white satin dress just didn’t expand enough to allow for it. Her hold on the exquisite garland of flowers, peonies and thistles, had become looser and looser as time had worn on, and they now hung from her listless arms at her side. The smile she had worn with determination hours before was rapidly losing its brilliance as Sofia now became convinced that he wasn’t coming.
The ache in her heart was devastating, but she refused to cower beneath the pain. If this was his decision, then she would bear it. Her country would bear her mistakes too. But they would survive. This wedding, this marriage, it had been for her. The one thing she had selfishly wanted all those years ago, and again now. But she knew that no matter what the future held, all she needed to do was put one foot in front of the other. And if that was down an aisle to tell her guests that the wedding was off, then she would do so.
She couldn’t blame Theo. She understood the pain she had caused, and the hurt he felt not only from her actions, but also from his father’s. Forgiveness was already there, in her heart, because she understood him, and loved him. Even if she never got to utter the words to him in person.
She gave a final nod to her assistant, who disappeared to instruct the organist not to play the wedding march as she opened the door and began to make her way down the aisle.
The unsettled and deeply curious guests all turned to watch her as she took her first step, her second and a third. Already aware that something was off, in the silence, Sofia’s heart sounded in her ears like a drum.