Unveiled

by Pamela Ann

  He raised his hand to tell me to stop interrupting. “You’re lucky to have had a second, third, fourth, and however many chances that man gave you. But I didn’t get that with Emma. All I can ever wish is for her to be happy now, and she is, though she won’t openly say it. I know she is. Had she stayed with me, she’d still be miserable because, let’s be honest here, Linds, you and I are both a fucked up bunch. And some people won’t ever understand the kind of struggle we face every day. It’s embedded in us, and fighting that kind of battle is exhausting. As much as I wanted to keep her, she’s better off because, sooner or later, I’d find a way to hurt her again. We grew up that way—thinking what Mom did to Dad was right, that it was normal.”

  What he said rang with truth. As much as I wanted to deny it, in the back of my head, I was also scared I would do something drastic that would eventually hurt Dimitris in such a way he wouldn’t ever find it in him to forgive me. Exactly like Carter had said, we were a fucked up bunch—a byproduct of our parents’ emotional and mental instability.

  *

  After my talk with Carter, there wasn’t any decision to make except to take the red eye flight to London then get a connecting flight from Heathrow to Athens.

  With my blankie in hand, I went into the hired car en route to LAX. This was a new beginning. Hopefully, I wouldn’t let my past dictate my actions. I was my own woman, not my mother. She and I weren’t the same, though she had given birth to me. I merely had to keep telling myself that until I fully believed it.

  Getting off the plane in Heathrow after the non-stop, eleven-hour flight from LAX, I was ready to freshen up and have a light meal somewhere before I started boarding for my four hour flight to Athens in an hour’s time.

  Since this was a surprise, Dimitris wouldn’t be meeting me at the airport. I had it all planned out in my head, and I couldn’t wait to see his happy face the moment he realized I would be spending Christmas with him, after all. Though there would only be a couple of hours left before Christmas was over by the time I got there, at least it was better than nothing at all.

  Fast pacing towards the nearest women’s bathroom, I did all my womanly bits before finally resurfacing about fifteen minutes later. I had to do some major make-up retouching since I didn’t plan on waiting to get to Dimitris’s place once I landed on Greek soil.

  I was lost in my own dreamy world when my stomach decided it was high time for me to take notice. Scampering towards the nearest bistro, my eyes immediately darted towards the menu, just as the hostess appeared into view, welcomingly greeting me.

  “For one please,” I murmured before she told me to follow her through, and just like that, something caught my eye.

  It was a newspaper and the headline that came with it.

  ex-movie star turned greek tycoon rekindling romance with ex-lover

  What the fuck? My mind froze, as did the rest of my body. I could hear the hostess calling me, but I was too caught up in my own fright, solely focused on the newspaper that was neatly tucked in its stand. I was staring at it with animosity until my legs realized they needed to function, unsteadily walking tiny steps until I reached it.

  Pale and shaky, my hand reached out to the damning paper before pulling it out of its neat pile. Then I saw the photos, shattering everything inside me.

  Chapter 14

  Lindsey

  “It’s two quid, Madam.” The person behind the counter informed me while I blankly blinked back at her, as if not fully hearing her.

  “Sorry, I need to—” I stammered, not finishing what I was about to say, I abruptly left, needing seclusion to breathe, to cry, to fucking hurl myself somewhere and slowly die without a care in the world.

  Dimitris had broken everything. He had the audacity to accuse me of cheating when it was he who was carrying on an affair with that French whore? How could he? I thought angrily as I tore through the crowd, needing some solace.

  It was only a week ago when Trista brought me something of similar nature, though it was French media that time. What made me think that type of gossip news wouldn’t reach England? Of course it would. I mean, Dimitris was popular in Europe because he was into acting, but he was more famous due to his last name and his family’s net worth.

  In automation, I retraced my steps back towards the bathroom, but that time, I locked myself in one of the cubicles before I started silently weeping.

  Though I had only glanced at them for a fraction of a second, the photos were ingrained in my mind, vividly embedded there on repeat, just so I could relive my pain over and over again. As I sat my pitiful ass down, my body went cold as my tears freely flowed. I wondered when those photos had been taken. It sure as heck couldn’t have been right after I spoke to him, now could it? Who knew anymore, but those God awful pictures were far worse than before. This time, it went straight to heart while it gouged it repeatedly, bleeding it raw.

  Those vile, disgustingly despicable pictures of Dimitris naked in bed with Claudine’s leg barely covering his genitals while she, too, was naked. Both seemed to have been asleep with her resting her head on his chest. Whatever the article had stated about them had been lost on me because I couldn’t see past those photos.

  Dimitris and his endless babble of speeches about not wanting to marry me had all been lies. He clearly didn’t want to end the lifestyle he had. Maybe, through it all, he somehow felt comforted having her around. After all, she had apparently “nursed” him while wounded from the pain I caused during our breakup. I was paying for my sins. Big time.

  Suddenly, the speaker in the bathroom was announcing my impending flight to Athens, stating it was now open for passengers to board. Should I even bother going to “surprise” him? I derided myself for being so utterly clueless about Dimitris’s indiscretions. How could I have been so blind and naïve, thinking he would change his sex life because he was in love with me? He was probably used to not having to commit to anyone. Maybe that was why he was finding it rather challenging to do it with me. Yet wasn’t it him less than twenty-four hours before making innuendoes about me and Brody? Was that why he kept talking about it? Because, deep down, he wanted me to look like the bad guy again so I wouldn’t catch him and see what he had been up to with Claudine? No wonder he never wanted to give her up. I fully saw his reasoning.

  Biting my lip, I weighed out what I ought to do from there on out. Should I simply go back home and simmer in my hate and distaste of the man I unfortunately loved with my whole heart? Or should I still follow through with my plan, pretend I had no clue what was going on, and give him the chance to come out and fully explain himself without any malice or doubts, simply giving him a platform to disclose all the good and bad with all honesty and sincerity?

  I found myself surprised that I was even weighing things. The old me wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. She would have boarded the plane back to the states the second the newspaper caught her attention. It was disheartening that this change had come too late to save my relationship with Dimitris Kosta.

  Making a decision not to go back home came at a high price. I had to set my pride and ego aside, putting on a mindset that I was doing this for the both of us and would endure the pain until I knew there was nothing salvageable in our distorted bond of love. The future was unpredictable, but I didn’t want to keep having regrets. Therefore, I would go through the next few weeks or months, depending on how long it took him to confess and what that confession entailed, with an open mind as well as a guarded, shattered heart and unveiled eyes. I wasn’t sure how I would manage it, but I would get through with this, even if it killed me. I wouldn’t give up until I knew we were irrevocably over and done with.

  It took me another five minutes to cry a little more and gather my bearings before coming out of the cubicle, heading straight to where the mirror was, needing to take care of tattered lashes and red-rimmed eyes.

  I only hoped that, once I land on Greek soil, my old self would awaken. I needed all the armor I could get. Being the w
oman I was right then—vulnerable, too shaken, and too hurt to even make a decent decision—wouldn’t fair properly if I was to defend what was supposed to be mine. I would go there, ready to face whatever shenanigans Claudine had for me, equipped to handle the lies Dimitris might dish out to me.

  Before booking my tickets at the airline kiosk, I remembered thinking the flight from London to Athens was too long. So long, in fact, that it would keep me on edge from too much excitement to see his happy face the moment he realized I had come out early to see him.

  For the entire duration of the flight, I didn’t put myself through the hellish nightmare of recalling our good memories; instead, I willed myself to ingrain the photos to memory, as if they were the Catholic’s top-secret code to unlocking the Holy Grail. I wasn’t deceiving myself into thinking everything was Claudine’s fault. Of course not. Dimitris absolutely was involved, too, because this wouldn’t have taken place had he not been in her home. I just wondered how long it would take him to tell me and how much of it would be lies and half-truths, knowing he could very well lose me in a heartbeat.

  Even a man in love could cheat. I knew that saying to be true. Carter, for one, was a prime example. He had done what he did, even though he had known Emma was crazy for him. And, deep down, he was in love with her, too; however, he had pushed those feelings aside for a moment of fun and pleasure. As had Brody. Even the perfect Bass Cole. Though he hadn’t cheated on Emma, he had pretty much dated Nikki because it was the easiest thing to try to get over his lost love. He had functioned and done all that stuff with her while he secretly pined for the love of his life.

  That was how men were. Even though they would secretly be in pain, they would still carry on doing their manly jobs through sexual endeavors and bolstering their egos, as if they needed validation that they were still a man. Because a real man didn’t fall for pansy shit like love. Because a real man didn’t back down from free vaginas on display. Because a real man was a beast who could do as he pleased without feeling sorry or remorseful, even though they knew what they were doing was wrong. Still, they would carry on as if they hadn’t stumbled, as if they weren’t wounded, as if they weren’t holding on to the torch that was burning them alive, inside out.

  But let’s be honest here, if Dimitris did confess to doing the deed with Claudine, did I have it in me to forgive him? I mean, after all, he had forgiven me for a lot of things, including leaving him for Brody. Could I be a magnanimous person and simply focus on how much he truly loved me, how much he had fought to have me, and how much he had battled to keep loving me, even though I had denounced his love from the very beginning, tainted his name and shamed him by walking out on him only ninety-six hours after saying I do?

  The daunting question weighed heavily on me since I wasn’t really sure what I would do.

  All I knew was how much I loved the man and how much I would suffer to have him. The rest was an endless question mark.

  *

  When the airline crew announced that we were landing, I had a short moment of indecision, tormenting myself with the thought that I was heading into a disaster and that nothing could ever change the fact that Dimitris had been naked with his very naked ex-lover/fiancée. It was too late to have a change of heart, though. I had already made a decision while crying my heart out in Heathrow’s bathroom, and I must whole-heartedly stick to it.

  Never in my life had I experienced such overwhelming anxiety. I was forgetful of which baggage claim terminal I was supposed to be at and had to check it four times. I was so distraught that my luggage passed me twice before I realized that the dark brown luggage that circled me two times was actually mine. Though my eyes weren’t as red as before I had boarded the plane, they were extremely dry and grainy.

  The cool night was a little wet yet an agreeable temperature that didn’t chill my bones as I stepped out to wait for a taxi. I hadn’t taken into account how bothersome that would be at that early morning hour.

  The moment I secured myself a cab, I gave Dimitris’s address, feeling as though I had to prepare myself for the most important acting role of my life—portraying the clueless, trusting girlfriend I once had been.

  The Greek driver was too jovial in contrast to my fake smiles. His sunny personality made me realize that it was Christmas, after all, and I could spare a smile or two, not making someone else’s day just as miserable as mine. The situation was no one’s fault but myself. I had placed too much trust in one man’s hand, and I was paying for that gullible decision.

  With a heavy heart, I looked out the window, haplessly studying the scene before me, hoping Dimitris was still at his Pappou’s home, still celebrating the night. From what I could recall from our prior conversation, he had meant to stay over for dinner and beyond since his family was rather large. It consisted of aunts, uncles, cousins, and distant relations that came to celebrate the holiday at Elias’s palatial home. As he had told me before, those things could go on forever, so I shouldn’t be expecting his call.

  That is, if he truly is with his family and not spending his precious time with the French slut. God, if he really had cheated, I was going to raise hell like he had never seen. He had met the crazy Lindsey, but I doubted he could mind the psychotic side of me.

  The sadness and betrayal I had immediately felt after seeing those photos had somehow evolved into a twisted sense of strength and empowerment. I had the power to control how this played out as long as I kept myself and my feelings in check. I could very well manipulate it to my favor if I played the sweet, clueless, loving victim to a fault.

  Lost in the sea of scenarios that played through my mind, I had nearly forgotten I was a passenger in a taxi and on my way to his home until the driver parked then killed his engine. He climbed out of the vehicle and went around to the trunk for my luggage.

  Dimitris’s household had security all around, with a few men shifting from night to day and so forth, but it always consisted of four buff men guarding his home. Ever since he had taken the reigns of their family company, he had said he was a favorite target of the media along with unknown and known enemies and loony trespassers; as a result, the drastic change in lifestyle was a necessity.

  Thea, the woman who had taken care of him since infancy, was the person running his household. I wasn’t sure if she would be there, but I did hope the security personnel had been given authority by the boss to let me through. I vaguely recalled him mentioning it, but that had been months before. Things could have changed since.

  Upon paying the driver with a hefty tip, I dragged my belongings to the double-gated entrance, putting myself in clear view for the security cameras. It didn’t even take a full minute until someone came out of the small, detached entry gate, greeting me in Greek.

  “Hi. Sorry—” I started to say, but immediately stopped myself when I realized I meant to apologize for bothering them at this time of the night. If I was to stick to my old wretched persona, apologizing in situations that need not be should be scrapped from the get-go. “Lindsey Mason,” I stated in a succinct tone before handing him my passport. “I’m your boss’s ex-wife and current mistress, and I’ve taken two long flights to get here, so if you’re done walkie-talking to your buddy there, I’d appreciate it if you let me through so I can finally rest before jet-lag settles in. I’m going to be a dreaded walking zombie that will bite the head off anyone who greets me ‘hello’ otherwise.”

  He considered me a moment before he spoke into his walkie-talkie in rapid Greek. I only caught the word wife before he politely apologized and took hold of my belongings just as the gate opened to let me through. Through our short journey from the gate to the house sitting atop the hill, he informed me most of the household staff wouldn’t be back for two days, and the boss was at his grandfather’s house. Therefore, if I needed something, I would have to call the security post, which was a small office adjacent to the main house, and someone would immediately take care of it for me.

  I gave the young Greek man na
med Leo a grateful smile before thanking him once we reached the front entrance of the home. He seemed friendly, with enough Greek charm to make anyone swoon a little. However, I was too out of it to even spring back the fiery flirty side of me. I doubted that side would ever resurface, since the only man I wanted more than anything was fucking around with my Godforsaken mind.

  The moment I entered Dimitris’s home and the kind Leo left me all to my lonesome, I stood still in his brightly lit foyer, gazing over his gorgeous home, remembering the first time I came here. He had asked me what I thought of it and how fitting it would be for his new life and what he ought to personally achieve since he’d planned to move on from me. His old home, which had been an entire building fitted to his liking, was actually the place where he had blessed me with so much love and devotion. That place consisted of so many amazing memories of the beginning of us that this home palled in comparison. Sure, we had fought and made up in this beautiful place, but it held another significance—this house had been bought because he had meant to house Claudine in it along with his future children.

  This house had nothing to do with me; it was entirely about him and Claudine. Staring at its gorgeous lavishness, I wondered if he ever came home and stood there, just as I was doing right that instant, pondering what life might have been had he pursued what his mind was set on. Had he done so, he would possibly be greeted by his first child with Claudine.

  It was pointless to torture myself in such a way, yet it was my way of thinking with perspective, seeing what the future was supposed to be. A part of me understood why Claudine hadn’t left his life—that she was fighting for what she thought was rightfully hers—because, in a way, she had healed him; thus shaping him to the man he was. It was she who had cured him. It was she who had listened to him spout the brokenness that was eviscerating his existence. And, if he was right in his statement that he had meant to head down the same route Carter had, then it was Claudine who had saved him.