He was gone. She awakened and, without even opening her eyes, Lucia knew he wasn’t there. The bed felt cold and empty.
She felt lost. She tried to tell herself it would be alright. Of course it would be alright! She would survive. Other people had survived broken hearts.
But she didn’t see how.
She got up, took a shower, washed her hair, put on a fresh sundress, even made an effort with a little makeup. Look happy, you’ll feel happy, Aunt Em always said.
Not this time, Aunty Em, sorry, Lucia thought.
But she tried. And she told herself she would have made it through the morning without crying if Alex hadn’t demanded to know where Damon was, and when she tried to say nonchalantly that he’d had to leave, Alex had burst into tears.
"He said he’d be here!’’ the little boy wailed. ‘‘He said if I needed him, he’d stay!"
“He was here when you needed him,’’ Lucia soothed him, pulling him into her lap and holding him close.
But pressing her face against Alex’s hair, rocking him in her arms, reminded her too much of Nikos too much of what she had lost. Her tears fell too.
And, seeing them, Alex had said fiercely, ‘‘I hate him!!"
“No, darling, you love him,’’ Lucia said. "That’s why you're so hurt.”
She understood the emotion, though. She felt the
grief. Hate and love all mixed up.
She made her escape when Julietta and Georgiana came home. She let herself out the sliding door and headed across the grass toward the dunes and the beach.
It was family time, she told herself. She shouldn’t intrude. A wise nanny knew when to step in—and when to step out.
This was a time to step away, to let Julietta and the children bond. In a few days Starvos would be with them and they would be a family, the family he had always wanted.
Of course he wouldn’t have Damon to run his business. But she thought perhaps he had a better understanding of his older son now—even though she didn’t think he knew yet that
Damon was a well respected naval architect. He knew enough. He’d seen enough of his older son with his younger one.
Mission accomplished. More or less.
So she could leave. Soon. And the sooner the better.
She would stay for a little while because Julietta would need some help for a few weeks to get back on her feet and get her bearings.
But it wouldn’t be long until the other woman was capable of handling both children easily, the way she wanted to, raising them herself.
And then Lucia would go.
She’d accomplished her own mission too. She would have enough money to save her aunts’ house and provide for their future, that was certain. She would get a good set of references. She was sure Starvos would provide that.
And she would have memories.
Memories of Damon.
She dropped down just below the crest of one of the small dunes and sat, arms wrapped around her drawn legs, and indulged herself in memories of him.
The wicked grin. The plaster cast. The stubborn jaw, the dancing eyes. The faraway look. The menacing scowl. The man who had taught her the meaning of love.
The man she would never forget.
The breeze blew her hair around her face. She scraped it back. It kicked up sand dervishes, and trickled down the back of her neck. She reached up her hand and swiped at it, trying to stop it, but it kept trickling. She turned and saw a pair of bare feet. Looked up into Damon's dark eyes. The wicked grin flashed for just an instant. Then he dropped the handful of sand he’d been pouring down her neck and Squatted on the sand beside her.
She looked at him, wide eyed, astonished. What was he doing here? He’d left, gone back to Cornwall.
“The old man made me stay," he said.
She’d thought her eyes couldn’t get any wider. Now they almost popped right out of her head. “What are you talking about?’’
“The old man,’’ Damon said impatiently. ‘‘My father. Remember him?’’ He slanted her an ironic smile.
‘‘What do you mean, he made you stay? Your father’s in the hospital!’’
"No. He tracked me down at JFK.’’
‘‘What? How could he? He’s under doctor’s orders ?!"
"I haven't met a doctor yet who could make my old man do a damn thing he didn’t want to do. And in this case he was determined. I thought he was bullheaded before, trying to run my life." Damon laughed “I haven’t seen anything yet.’’
Lucia could barely fathom this. ‘‘He went after you all the way to the airport? Why? To make you come back?”
"He wanted to tell me a story," Damon said. The wry grin faded from his face and he settled on the sand next to her. He funneled a handful from one hand to the other, watching the flow, not her. ‘‘Wanted to tell me about him and my mother. About the past. About a lot of things we should have talked about a long time ago.”
Lucia bit her tongue. She didn’t dare say it.
Damon said it for her. He slanted her a glance and said, "You're entitled. Go ahead. Say I told you so.”
Lucia shook her head wordlessly. She couldn’t seem to say anything at all.
"I understand now,” Damon went on. He was looking at the sand again. ‘‘I understand him.”
Lucia hugged her knees a little bit tighter. The weight she’d felt lifting earlier at the very sight of him began almost imperceptibly to press down again.
She tried to fight it. Told herself she ought to be glad. She was glad that Nikos(Damon's Greek name) and his father had sorted things out. She was glad he’d come to tell her, to allow her that. ‘‘I told you so." She wouldn’t say.
She wanted more. And she wasn’t going to get it.
"He’s still Starvos, though,” Damon went on. ‘‘After he told me why he did what he did, he told me not to do it, too.”
Lucia didn’t speak. She held her breath.
"He said, ‘Don’t be your father’s son, Damon."
Damon managed a passable imitation of his father’s raspy voice. ‘Don’t be a martyr to your love," he said. “You’re a fool if you do so.”
"I don’t want to go back to Scotland without you. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. I love you, Luci. I want us to get married. And you can be damned sure,’’ he added with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, ‘‘that I’m not just saying this because my father told me to!”
She said Yes.
He wouldn’t have blamed her if she hadn’t. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d told him she didn’t ever want to see him again.
But he was glad she hadn’t.
He’d laughed and rolled her in the sand the minute she said yes, she’d marry him, and that she loved him too.
She made him laugh a lot over the next months. She made him cry once, too.
They moved to Scotland happily married but tragedy soon came knocking at their door, read on to know what exactly happened to the two love birds.