Alex
My ploy to make Chloe come to me and emotionally distance myself fell flat exactly five minutes after I decided to go through with it. I let myself forget that I was talking to a nineteen-year-old and she did not need me the way I needed her. Not even a little. If she didn’t want to text first, she wouldn’t, if I wasn’t overly affectionate on the phone, she wasn’t either. She mimicked me, mirroring my behaviour and forcing me to accept that I didn’t want to be separate from her and had to put the effort I also wanted in return.
Weeks passed quickly, I spent as much time as I could in Sacramento and San Francisco, taking up parttime residence at hotels in each city so that we always had somewhere to go. Marie was becoming angrier with me for every day that I spent away from home, she’d taken the guestroom over completely and now I no longer felt welcome in my own home.
But I felt more than welcome with the sweet girl lying beside me.
I reached out and brushed her hair back while watching her side rise and fall with her gentle breathing. I remembered laying with Marie like this when Peter was born, holding them both and feeling like there was nothing in the world I couldn’t do. That feeling wasn’t a common one, and it just made me want to stay in this bed for as long as we could.
Light had begun to stream through the open curtains, slowly filling the room with the early morning sun. The shadow of it moved across the bed as the sun rose, eventually falling across Chloe’s face, causing her to scrunch up her nose and turn her face into the pillow. I pulled her tighter to my body and kissed her bare shoulder.
“Glykia mou,” I whispered against her skin. “I know you’re awake.”
“No…”
“Yes. Do you want breakfast?”
Silence. I waited.
Her head popped up suddenly and she turned to me with an excited smile. “Are we ordering in?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me get dressed, so that would also be a yes.”
She grinned and flopped back onto on the mattress, throwing her arms wide. “Alright, I’ll let you feed me.”
I smirked and promptly reached for my phone. Part of staying in the new apartment while in Rome instead of a hotel meant we had to do more for ourselves, but I hadn’t exactly stocked the fridge before we came so we still ate takeout instead of making anything. Not that I was about to ask Chloe to cook for me, I’d loved her mother’s food, but I didn’t pay her to be my personal chef.
She lounged there while I flipped through several takeout menus until I settled on a creperie around the corner. They promised to have the order ready for us in about forty minutes and I thanked them before tossing my phone down the length of the bed and stretching out beside her. I might have only relaxed for less than a minute before my phone was vibrating again. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back against the headboard.
“You get a lot of calls.”
I turned to look at Chloe who was studying me closely. “Are you keeping count?”
“No, I just noticed you just excused yourself to take calls a lot last night.”
Marie always became clingier when she knew I was a short flight away, it was just how she was, but this was also an important weekend. “I have responsibilities at home,” I reminder her. “And I’ve been spending more time away than usual.”
“But you’re getting divorced,” she argued. “What responsibilities do you have with your ex-wife? Can’t she take care of herself?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Does it matter?”
Chloe scoffed and got off the bed. “I was just asking a question.”
Here we go. Slowly she’d started picking at me, little things here and there, asking questions that I avoided and pressuring me to divulge more than I was ready to share. She didn’t know when to stop. I bit my tongue instead of trying to defend myself. Some people would never understand, Chloe was one of those people, I just chalked it up to her inexperience. I watched her stalk off to the bathroom and heard the telltale clicking of the lock. Apparently I wasn’t invited this morning.
She’d been attitudinal with me off and on, argumentative with me at Gianni’s gala the night before and asking invasive questions when we were alone. I didn’t know what was wrong with her lately. I’d still gifted her a jewellery set for this event, as promised, and she was thankful for it but outside of that her behavior had done a complete turn-around. I wasn’t sure what I had done wrong and I was caught between wanting to retaliate and wanting to beg her forgiveness, I just didn’t know what I needed to be forgiven for.
My phone started vibrating again and my eyes drifted across the bed to it. At least she doesn’t yell, I thought as I reached for the device.
“I promised you I would call back,” I said in lieu of hello. “Is something wrong?” I got up and stepped out of the room.
“Is something wrong,” Marie mocked. “You’re missing your son’s birthday to be with one of your whores.”
“I tried speaking to Peter and he told me not to come,” I reminded her quietly as I went to the living room. “I’m not going to come if he doesn’t want me.”
“He doesn’t think you want to be here!” she cried. “If you actually showed up sometime, he might want you around more!”
I sat down on the couch and swept my hair back. “You need to let me handle this—”
“Oh, don’t give me that macho man bollocks,” she hissed. “If I let you handle it you won’t ever speak to him. You haven’t even come to meet Lena.”
“If I came to meet every girl he was fucking, I would never leave the house!” I snapped. “I don’t ask him to meet my girls, he doesn’t care if I meet his girlfriends, that’s how it is. Now leave it alone.”
“There’s a big bloody difference between your girls and his partners, Zander.”
I took a deep breath and leaned back against the cushions. “I have to go. I’ll call him later.”
“You only have one son, don’t ruin your relationship with him over nothing,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “Please, Zander, at least call him.”
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
She didn’t say goodbye before she disconnected the call and I knew that she was going to run to Mike to console her. We could have had this exact conversation a dozen times, the difference was that I didn’t know way back then that she was running to him afterward. It still depressed me just as much, if not more, to know that our son was turning twenty-four and we still had the same problems we did all those years ago.
I stopped trying when he turned sixteen, when I’d rushed to get from Texas back to Greece, taking almost fifteen hours in travel time to make it home for him only to fight with him as soon as I got back.
“Why did you even come back?” Peter demanded. He got up from the table and charged over to me until we were almost nose to nose. When did he get this tall? “You don’t even call, why would we want you back now?”
“I did call,” I protested. “And I promised you that I would be home for the party.”
“You called once!” he yelled. “You called mum and you didn’t even talk to me! You didn’t say fuck all.”
I had to take a step back, I was feeling cornered and I could hear my father in his voice. Peter matched my step back, following me and not allowing for any more space between us.
“Peter, please,” Marie said as she rushed over. “He’s here now, that’s what matters.”
“No – why are you always making excuses for him? He does nothing except run off and party and leave us here.”
“We can talk about it later,” she urged. “Let’s just enjoy this for now—”
“No! He doesn’t need someone defending him for being a deadbeat.” He glowered at me from over her shoulder and I had nowhere else to look but his icy gaze. “He’s fucking worthless.”
My fist balled up before I even registered it and suddenly Marie was screaming. Peter grappled for me, tearing the shoulder of my shirt while she fought to push us apart—
“Alex?”
I jumped and twisted around to see Chloe standing behind me. wrapped in a towel as she pointed to the door. “I heard the buzzer go, do you mind getting it? I don’t really want to give the delivery boy a peepshow.”
“No, of course not,” I said, getting up quickly. “You can go back to the bedroom; I’ll bring it in there for us.”
“Alright, thank you.”
I nodded and watched her go, praying she didn’t notice how badly my hands were shaking. No amount of apologies could get Peter to forgive me, I’d certainly never forgiven Kanavas, and I didn’t blame him for that. I had lashed out at him in anger, I’d hurt him because he hurt me, but I was the adult, he’d been a child. I should have been better than that, and I wasn’t. I didn’t understand why Marie thought all could be forgiven, she wouldn’t have forgiven me if I’d hit her instead.
I was still shaking as I took the bags from the deliveryman who must have thought I was either dying or decrepit. I brought them to the bedroom and found Chloe sitting on the balcony, now wrapped up in my robe at the small table. She helped me divvy up the food and I was certain she noticed my shift in demeanor.
I took the spot beside her, we could look out over the stone railing down at the river while we ate. I watched from the corner of my eye as Chloe spread some strawberry jelly over her toast and daintily licked the edge of the butterknife afterward.
“I can see you staring at me,” she said as she chewed. “And you’re not very subtle about it.”
I laughed and leaned over to give her cheek a kiss. “I wasn’t trying to be subtle, I like staring at you.”
She rolled her eyes but I caught the way her mouth twitched at the corner. “You’re such a weirdo.”
There was no argument from me, I agreed with her and I continued to glance at her while we ate. The sun caught her hair perfectly, making it appear a lighter than the normal dark gold, her skin was getting darker from the time we were spending outside together and now her tan seemed to glow too. I couldn’t wait to take her to the Bahamas and see her in a bikini every day. Even now, I watched as my robe slid down, revealing her bare shoulder and all I could think about was the chance to rub her down with tanning lotion, seeing her stretched out on a sun lounger…
She glanced at me; her brow raised in confusion. She wasn’t as playful this morning, I wondered if she was still annoyed with me.
“You seem off lately,” I told her after clearing my throat. “Is something wrong?”
She shrugged and looked away quickly. “No, why?”
“It just felt like you’ve been mad at me. That’s all.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and turned in her chair, hazel eyes wide. “I’m not mad at you,” she assured me. “I don’t want you to think that. I’m not mad at you.”
Relief lightened the weight on my chest and suddenly I could breathe better, but she didn’t look any happier. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” I pressed, leaning forward in my chair. “You can tell me anything, glykia mou.”
Chloe stared at me for a moment, her eyes scanning my face while she fiddled with her bracelet. She’d slept in her jewellery last night and I couldn’t help but smile to myself at the way her necklace dipped down between her breasts and the robe hung open, allowing me to see even more of her.
In the two and a half months that we’d been together, I watched her slowly acclimate: her hair was shinier from visiting salons regularly, her nails perfectly manicured and pedicured, she wore lighter makeup, and her wardrobe consisted almost entirely of skin-tight dresses that managed to be classy only by virtue of being knee-length. She strived to appear older and professional, and it suited her. But at moments like this, when her hair was still damp from the shower, her makeup not completely washed off, relaxing with me on the patio – I felt like she was more comfortable.
She swallowed and turned around fully in her seat to face me, making sure to pull the robe closed as she did. “You were asking me about my brother last night because I told you he was sick,” she began slowly. “Which is fine, I don’t mind talking to you about that, but I just feel like it’s unfair for you to ask questions that you won’t even answer.”
My brother wasn’t sick, he was dead, I couldn’t exactly tell her that he was doing fine or eating chicken noodle soup. However, I understood that that wasn’t what she was getting at. “I already told you that was a dealbreaker for me.”
“I know, I just—”
“No,” I interrupted flatly. “You don’t just anything. I don’t want to talk about my family and I’ve asked you not to press the issue, Chloe.”
“I’m Chloe when you’re mad at me?” she demanded. “But you’ll use pet names to butter me up?”
I sighed and got up from the table, taking the empty plates with me. “I need some space for a minute.”
I left her on the patio while I went to do the dishes in silence, stewing over her words.
Why did this matter – why couldn’t she leave well enough alone? It wasn’t like this was a new development, I’d told her from the first date that I don’t talk about family. I had the chance to stop being Zander when I was with Chloe, I wasn’t the failure of husband and a father, I was Alex, the man that could do anything for anyone. I didn’t want to be Zander with her, I wanted her to see me as a sort of god who would give her anything she asked for. But arguing with her made my chest hurt, it reminded me that this wasn’t permanent, and I was just a normal person that couldn’t avoid my mistakes.
How would she feel if I told her I didn’t go home for my only child’s birthday and instead spent it in Rome, with her? She told me about her family all the time, we’d already discussed that major holidays were fine for trips, but birthdays were off-limits, along with name days. There was no way she would find it acceptable for me to choose her over my son.
I scrubbed at the dishes until my hands were wrinkly before finally coming to my senses and stopping. Chloe was in the bedroom with the door closed. I took a seat on the sofa and checked my phone again – nothing more from Marie, but Amelia was interested in getting together with us tonight. I messaged her back to let her know that was probably a no, somehow I didn’t think Chloe was going to want to spend time with my friends today.
The door opened and Chloe came out again, this time dressed in her pink and white loungewear. I got up immediately, ready to apologize and try to get us out of the apartment for the day to make up for it. She stopped me in my tracks by holding her hand up.
“I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to ask questions once in a while,” she said as she stared me down. “Both of us should be allowed that freedom.”
“We are,” I replied. “That’s the only topic I don’t like talking about. I’d accept it if you didn’t want to talk about yours.”
“But we’re at this point where I want to know you better, and every time I ask you about anything, I’m shot down. Every. Single. Time.”
“That’s not true, I tell you plenty.”
She laughed mirthlessly. “Like what?”
“I told you about Amelia and Zamir, I told you about my companies—”
“You don’t tell me anything about your work! Whenever I ask you just say it’s real estate and leave it at that.”
“Because it is real estate.”
“You party and chalk it up to work, that’s not real estate.”
I had to roll my eyes. “I buy properties, refurbish or renovate them and then sell them again. I buy a lot of old estates with custom woodwork that need specialists to fix them and do the work myself. Sometimes I bring in my contracting company. That’s it.”
She crossed her arms. “If you can do that with your job you should be able to do that with your family.”
“I can’t,” I told her sharply. “I can’t talk to you about it, end of story.”
“You should be able to talk to me about that!”
“Why does it matter?” I demanded. “Why is this such an issue for you?”
“Because I want to know you, I feel like I can’t really do that when half your life is completely hidden from me.” She paused and I watched her swallow. “I’ve shared everything with you.”
Everything. Her words hung in my mind as I thought back to Spain. I’d earned her trust in such short time and I knew that my actions now were tearing that down. My ache for her, the love that had blossomed so quickly just felt like it was smothering me now. I wanted to give her what she deserved, to tell her everything, but the fear of losing her was too strong. If she just left this alone, we might be able make it past this.
We stared at each other and I could see the hope in her eyes, the yearning for more. I just couldn’t give that to her. “You don’t need to know about my family to know me,” I told her sternly, forcing myself to sound more certain than I was. “You don’t need to know anything about my wife, my son, or anyone else. We aren’t a couple, I pay you to be here, and I’m paying you not to ask questions. That’s all.”
The words tasted like acid and I knew they were going to hurt her more than I wanted them to. Chloe’s eyes started to water and I felt like I’d kicked a puppy. She sniffed suddenly and spun around, wiping her cheek as she ran back to the bedroom. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of her suitcase rattling, my heart plummeting at the telltale noise. When I opened them, I had to watch her shove her things into her bag frantically.
“Chloe—”
“No!” she yelled, turning to me with barely concealed rage. “I don’t want to hear it and I don’t want to stay here. Not with you.”
I stayed quiet watching as she zipped the rest of her stuff up and grabbed her jacket. She slammed her suitcase down and pulled it along behind her, stopping only to shove an envelope into my hand.
“You don’t pay me for anything anymore, keep the fucking money.”
“No, this is yours,” I protested. “Please, Chloe—”
“I don’t want it.”
I watched her leave, the door slamming shut behind her, and taking every ounce of hope I’d had in years with her. I should have gone after her, I should have apologized and listed off every problem in my life that led me to this point. But I didn’t. I just watched her leave as the sound of my father’s voice played over and over in my head. I was failure, just like he told me I was, and she deserved better than that.
The envelope in my hand felt like a ten-ton weight and I dropped on to the chair instantly. Tears came hot and fast and I couldn’t stop them. I had no one to call, no one to run to now. And if I hadn’t let my insecurities get to me, she might have still been here.