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Cecily

CHAPTER FORTY

I know what happened to Joseph was an accident, but I still feel guilty.

It’s as if God is punishing me for straying completely from the path I had set myself.

I didn’t come to New York to have fun, nor to fall in love with Keith’s son’s adoptive father, but to make sure that, unlike the monster that was his mother, our boy was being well taken care of.

He is. Of that, I have no doubt anymore, so half my mission is accomplished, because even though I continue to love Keith like a brother, I will fail him in one thing.

I can’t go to court against Dionysus for custody of his son. I only needed a short interaction with them to understand that blood, in this case, means nothing. Joseph and Dionysus belong together.

The Greek is my boy’s sun, and I would never have the courage to fight for Joseph in front of a judge, to try to take him away from his father or request custody, supported by the letter I have from my friend and which serves as his will.

I have experienced a lack of familial affection for years, so I can recognize the opposite of that: dedicated, faithful, and absolute love. And that is how Dionysus acts with his heir.

He loves Joseph with his whole heart, as if he were his own, and I can’t imagine a better father to raise him.

This would be the moment for me to turn around and leave. There is nothing more to do here, but apart from the fact that I have become much more attached to Joseph than I ever imagined, I also find myself entangled in a web of omissions so large that I have no idea how to get out.

I remember the conversation with Elina. That day, the possibility of staying with my boss was remote, didn’t even exist. Everything has changed now.

Maybe we are not a couple in the full sense of the word, but neither are we boss and maid.

I, who have always hated lies, am deceiving the man I’ve fallen in love with.

I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from crying as I run my hand through the sleeping boy’s hair. So pure, innocent, without having the slightest idea of the nightmare that was his parents’ relationship or of the vile human being who gave birth to him.

Dionysus stayed with us until his son fell asleep, but he had to go downstairs to make some work calls and I asked for permission to stay with the little boy.

I’m hiding, of course. Terrified and very ashamed too.

I listened quietly as he recounted the lies he probably heard from Sue, destroying Keith’s image and reputation.

What could I do? Say who I am?

He will hate me because he will know that everything I did to meet him, get the job, and slip into his home, was nothing more than a setup.

With the best of intentions, only aiming for Joseph’s good, and without any self-interest, but still a setup.

I think about the conversation earlier today and how serious he was when he said he would marry me if I was pregnant. If it is confirmed, and he finds out who I am, will he take custody of the baby from me?

With his power and money, I have no doubt he could do it.

Jesus, what do I do?

Tell the truth , a voice warns. Tell him who you are before this mess snowballs.

I don’t have the courage. Not yet. I need more time to do this in a way that causes as little damage as possible.

He said he wants to renegotiate our relationship.

Would he agree to stay together if I told him the whole truth?

If not, would he at least let me see Joseph, watch him grow, even if there was nothing left between us?

Or on the contrary, would he hate me?

There are too many doubts for me to risk so much.

I have to be sure of the pregnancy first. If I’m really expecting a Kostanidis, I’ll have a lot more to lose if my son’s father starts to despise me.

The door opens, and I see him, backlit, big, and powerful, but also a family man.

I remember what he said about Sue. How he loved and protected Joseph and how he took on the treacherous snake that was his mother to keep the baby close.

He was generous to Keith’s ex-wife, but I have no doubt he would have destroyed her if he’d found out who she really was. The problem is that I have no proof. It’s my word—a stranger’s, technically speaking—against the dead ex-wife’s.

Dionysus is essentially good, I know, but there is something cruel about him too. And that’s what I’m afraid of. Of being the target of his anger and revenge.

Would he take our child away from me? Would he prevent me from having contact with them?

I feel like I’m suffocating, and giving the excuse of leaving the two of them alone, I get up and walk to the door.

He doesn’t move but shakes his head, as if telling me not to leave. He goes to the bed and places his son in the crib.

I watch the scene, and my chest tightens because I don’t want to leave them. I want both of them, because the reckless voice that screams inside me that Dionysus is mine, that they both are, won’t shut up.

I see him turn on the baby monitor and then come over to meet me.

He takes my hand, and after we leave, he closes the bedroom door. I continue to stand there, staring at him. My heart pounds inside my chest because of what I’m going to do, but I can’t see any other way out.

“I want more too. I don’t care about the deadline. As much as possible, I want more.”