Page 51

Brooklyn

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

“I’m not sure I understand.” I try to keep my voice steady as I look at him, trying to figure out if I’m imagining more than what he’s actually saying.

Over the past month, our relationship has gradually changed. It’s no longer just the almost-desperate sexual desire that ties us together when we’re in the same room. Slowly, a stronger bond is forming between us.

Athanasios shares his day with me and lets me see a vulnerable side of him that I suspect he doesn’t show to anyone else. For example, when he loses a patient, I notice that, no matter how emotionally detached he tries to appear, it affects him deeply.

He’s also becoming more involved in the twins’ lives, and I’ve noticed that the children already see him as a constant in their routines. They light up when he comes home from work to pick me up, and more than once, they’ve refused to have dinner unless they could sit on his lap.

At first, I was afraid it might seem like I was trying to impose my kids on our relationship. But the truth is, I’m a mother. That’s an immutable fact, and I’ll never stay anywhere my children aren’t welcome. Whoever wants me has to want them too.

“I love you, Brooklyn. I know you’re still afraid, and while my nature is to push for what I want, I won’t force things faster than you’re ready to go. But you need to know—I’m crazy about you, and that’s not going to change.”

“I love you,” I say, snuggling into his arms. “I’m terrified of loving you, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Don’t fight it. Trust me.”

“And do you trust me too?”

To my surprise, he glances toward the bed and then says, “Let me just check her vitals to make sure everything’s as it should be, and I’ll meet you outside, okay? We need to talk.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him half an hour later, sitting in the restaurant he brought me to. “Kassia is your biological mother?”

I feel like an idiot for repeating the question, especially since he already told me the whole story. But it’s so heartbreaking, I feel like crying.

“Do you think the people she said wanted to hurt you two are the same ones who left her like that?”

“I believe there’s a chance they are, and I will move heaven and earth to uncover the truth.”

“And then?”

“I’ll punish those responsible.”

Days later

NEW CANAAN, CONNECTICUT

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be,” I tell the driver so he can relay it to the bodyguards as well.

I’ve just travelled for fifty-eight minutes to try to resolve, once and for all, the situation with my boyfriend’s mother.

I step out of the car, nervous as hell, unsure whether I’ve made the right decision by coming here. But now that I know more about Medeia Pappakouris’ relationship with Athanasios, I want to give her a chance to prove she isn’t the despicable person I judged her to be at first glance.

That episode with Febe still sits like a lump in my throat. Yes, I’m resentful. I’ve been trying to change that, but it’s not an easy task. Knowing his mother spoke to that woman about me, indirectly encouraging her to try to break us apart, still drives me crazy.

Two days ago, Medeia called me.

I almost had a heart attack but kept my composure as if it were no big deal. Even though I was dying to tell her we had nothing to talk about and hang up, she’s my boyfriend’s mother—the one who raised him, at least—and I can’t just erase her from my life now that our relationship is heading toward something more serious.

If I’m honest, I felt a bit sorry for her after Athanasios told me about his biological mother. There’s no comparison between the adoration in his voice when he talks about Kassia and the way he speaks about his adoptive mother.

Could psychology explain that, in some way, he never accepted Medeia as his mother because he felt she was “stealing” his real mother’s place?

Honestly, I don’t know. The fact is, I feel immense sorrow for Kassia being in that state, but I also sympathize—yes, that’s the mother in me speaking, not the daughter-in-law—with Medeia Pappakouris for not having her son’s unconditional love.

I’m not here to judge whether she’s perfect. Mothers make mistakes. I have no doubt I’ll make plenty with Silas and Soraya. I came because I don’t want to be the reason she and Athanasios drift apart. If one day they decide they can’t stand to be around each other anymore, it won’t be because of me—it’ll be their decision.

I ring the doorbell, and to my surprise, she answers herself. Athanasios told me his parents’ house has twelve bedrooms and countless staff, so I didn’t expect her to act with such informality after that first impression.

“Brooklyn, how are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. And you?”

She invites me in, and I silently pray that at the very least, we can treat each other civilly.

“I asked my afternoon cook to prepare a snack for us. Are you hungry?”

I could say no, but I decide to be myself and see what happens. “I’m always hungry. My mom says I have a bottomless pit instead of a stomach.”

She looks at me, surprised, but seconds later, she smiles.

Point one to me.

We walk to a beautiful living room I’m sure I didn’t see the last time I was here. It’s all white—furniture and rugs included—with light blue accents.

“You’re referring to Eleanor? She’s your stepmother, right? I remember you mentioned her at that dinner.”

“Yes, she is, but I love her like she’s my real mom. Even more because she chose to stay with me and my sister when no one else wanted us—not even our father.”

I don’t even know why I’m saying so much. I didn’t plan to open up like this, and I’m annoyed with myself for being so foolish and giving this woman ammunition to insult me like she did before.

“What am I doing here, Mrs. Pappakouris?”

“You can call me Medeia.”

“I don’t feel like calling you Medeia yet. First names are for friends, and you didn’t seem interested in being mine when you first invited me to your house.”

“I want a chance to start over with you, Brooklyn.”

“Why?”

She serves us tea. “I could lie and say I suddenly woke up and realized you’re a wonderful person, but that’s not my style. So I’ll be honest: I want to fix things between us because my only, very beloved son is in love with you.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good enough reason. We could break up tomorrow, and then all your effort would be for nothing.”

She sweetens her tea and then smiles. “There are two things you need to know, Brooklyn: one about me and the other about Athanasios. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my son’s love. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Even if it means putting up with a woman you dislike?”

“I don’t dislike you. You just weren’t my choice for a daughter-in-law,” she says. And despite the sharpness of her words, I admire her honesty.

“Febe was,” I finish for her.

“Yes, but Athanasios doesn’t love her. He told me he’ll stand by your side until his last breath on Earth. That’s the second thing I said you needed to know: I’m not the best person in the world—I’m pretentious and full of flaws—but I love my son and, above all, I know him well. You two aren’t going to break up. You’ll get married and give me many grandchildren. Athanasios isn’t the kind of man who loves more than once. He’s decided you’re his, and he won’t stop until he makes it a lifelong commitment.”