not actually a surprise.’
He cracked open an eye and stared at her. ‘You can joke?’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ Talia admitted. ‘Let me help you, Angelos. I can tell you’re hurting.’
He closed his eyes again. ‘You have no idea.’
‘I know I don’t. So tell me.’ He just shook his head and she expelled an impatient breath. ‘You are the most stubborn, mule-headed man I’ve ever met!’
He smiled faintly at that, the barest quirk of his lips, but at least it was a reaction. ‘I must be.’
‘It’s as if you want to be miserable—’
He opened an eye, arched an eyebrow. ‘A glutton for punishment?’
‘It appears we both are,’ Talia answered, a flush touching her cheeks as she remembered how she’d practically begged for Angelos to care about her. The memory was enough to make her admit defeat. ‘Fine. You know what, Angelos? You can stew here for as long as you like. Drown in ouzo if you want to.’ She took a trembling breath. ‘You gave me the courage to face my fears but it seems I am not able to give you the same. So I give up.’ She turned towards the door, blinking back tears, hating how much this man affected her. How much she wanted to help him and couldn’t.
‘Talia.’ Her name was a whisper as she put her hand on the doorknob. ‘Don’t go.’
Slowly Talia turned around. ‘Do you mean that?’
His eyes were closed, his expression bleak. The word, when it came, was barely audible. ‘Yes.’
Silently she returned to her chair, and then sat down and waited, her hands clenched in her lap, her heart beating hard.
Angelos let out a long, low breath and opened his eyes. ‘I spoke to Sofia tonight, as you know. She told me...she told me the same thing you had told me. That she thought I was ashamed of her. That I kept her on this island to hide her from people, because I didn’t want anyone to see her scar.’ He scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘If I’d known that she would think that...the damage I would cause, on top of everything else...’ He shook his head. ‘I am the one who is ashamed. Of so much.’
‘What are you ashamed of?’ Talia asked softly.
She didn’t think Angelos was going to answer. He remained silent for a long time, his hands still covering his face, and then he slowly dropped them and stared at her. Talia nearly gasped at the utter bleakness she saw there.
‘Because,’ Angelos said heavily, ‘it was my fault that there was a fire.’ Talia knew instinctively there was more, and so she remained silent, waiting and alert. After an endless moment Angelos continued. ‘I was working downstairs. It had been a hard week, sleepless nights... Sofia was teething.’ He let out a sound that he choked off as soon as it came out of him, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. ‘She was such a sweet baby. So good-natured. Xanthe and I were so blessed. I’d never thought to have a wife, a family. Me, a gutter rat from the docks.’ He shook his head, lost in memory, awash in grief.
‘What happened, Angelos?’ Talia asked quietly. ‘That night?’
‘Xanthe was upstairs with Sofia. She was rocking her in the nursery. We lived in Athens at the time, a town house in Kolonaki. An old building, with leaky pipes and faulty wires...’
‘It was an electrical fire?’ Talia guessed, and Angelos nodded, his face twisted in regret.
‘I always meant to have the building inspected. I knew it was old—I picked it up for a song...’
‘You can’t blame yourself for that,’ Talia protested. ‘An electrical fire could happen to anyone, anywhere...’
‘It wasn’t just that.’ He drove his fingers through his hair, his head bowed. ‘I’d been drinking. A couple of glasses of ouzo, while I worked on reports. But I was tired and it must have affected me more than I’d thought because I was so slow.’ He dropped his hands and looked at her openly then, his pain naked, his face screwed up in anguish. ‘Talia, I was too slow.’
‘Oh, Angelos.’ His name caught in her throat and she blinked back tears as she realised the depth of the agony he’d endured then, and in the seven years since. Unthinkingly she dropped to her knees in front of him and took his hands in hers. ‘Tell me,’ she whispered.
‘It started in the nursery.’ He bowed his head, his hands clenched in hers. ‘The door was shut, and Xanthe had fallen asleep in the rocker with Sofia. By the time the alarm went off and I smelled the smoke, the fire was already raging. Xanthe was screaming, screaming...she couldn’t get the door open. The heat had swollen it shut. I tried to kick it down, I shoved my whole body against it over and over again, but I couldn’t. And the fire brigade was taking so long...’ His hands tightened on hers, hard enough to make Talia wince, but nothing would make her let go of Angelos now. ‘Xanthe told me to leave. She knew...she knew she couldn’t get out, but she wanted to save Sofia. She told me to go downstairs and she would throw her to me.’
‘Oh, Angelos...’
‘I refused. I refused, Talia, because I still wanted to save my wife. By the time I finally realised I couldn’t and ran downstairs, Sofia had already been burned. If I’d only listened...if I’d have acted faster...’ He shook his head. ‘Xanthe threw her down to me, and as I held our daughter, the flames engulfed her.’ A tear splashed onto her hand and wordlessly Talia put her arms around Angelos. He pressed his head against her chest, seeking comfort.
‘The fire brigade came then,’ he continued in a choked voice. ‘Too late. Too damned late. And Sofia’s face was badly burned, and parts of her body...she was so little. She spent six months in hospital, having to have skin grafts and surgeries. It was hell for both of us. She was in terrible pain and she missed her mother. She cried constantly—she didn’t want me, not even to hold her. She didn’t understand any of what had happened and I was so useless...’ He let out a choked sob and shook his head. ‘So useless, in so many ways.’
‘Oh, Angelos,’ Talia whispered as she stroked his hair. ‘How terrible for both of you. I’m so, so sorry.’
Neither of them spoke for a long moment and then finally Angelos eased away, his head still lowered. ‘It was easier to keep my distance from her afterwards. I bought Kallos and employed a nanny who could give her the care I never could. I thought I was doing the right thing, the best thing, for Sofia. But maybe I was just being selfish, keeping my distance because I couldn’t bear to be reminded of my own failings.’ He shook his head. ‘And I just made things worse.’
‘But you can make them better now,’ Talia insisted. ‘Sofia is only nine, and she needs you. She loves you. Make things better now, and love her back.’
‘I do love her—’
‘Spend time with her. Live on Kallos, or bring her to Athens with you. Show her and the world that you’re not ashamed of her.’
Angelos lifted his head and gazed at her, his brown eyes damp, his thick, dark lashes spiky. ‘How did a young woman like you become so wise?’
Talia let out a self-conscious laugh. ‘Am I really so wise? I’ve hidden away for the last seven years rather than face reality or try to conquer
