“Aarón said you were out of town.” He nodded toward the glass wall at the concierge, who was presently engrossed––or at least pretending to be––in the football game playing on the lobby’s flatscreen TV. “I was actually in my car about to leave when I saw you pull up.”
“Oh…” She bit her lip—a nervous habit he remembered well. “I was, um… I was out west closing a deal. It was just for one night.”
“Oh, you don’t have to explain.”
Helena’s gaze dropped to the elevator card in her hand before meeting his eyes again. “Rapheus, what are you really doing here?”
He kicked his toe into the pavement. “I was actually hoping we could talk…about us. I know it’s been a while, but there are some things I need to get off my chest––some things I really need you to hear.” He stepped aside as one of Helena’s neighbors arrived home, her high heels clicking on the sidewalk as she approached. “Could we go upstairs?”
She swallowed hard, her fingers moving to fidget with her locket. “Um…” She reached for the handle of her suitcase as if she needed to hold something tangible to steady herself. “I’m not sure…”
“It’s okay,” he said gently, her reluctance to invite him upstairs painfully obvious. “We can talk out here.” He nudged his chin toward a quiet spot near the wall, and she moved with him, away from the door and the path of passersby. “You really do look beautiful, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she said, offering him a forced smile. “You, too. I mean, you look well.”
“Yeah, I’ve been okay…” Another lie. “Work’s been keeping me busy, but I’m trying to make time for myself. Actually, I was just in Mexico for a few days. You wouldn’t believe how warm the water is this time of year.”
Helena pursed her lips.
He was stalling, and he knew she could tell. Raph took a deep breath, his mantra steadying his nerves.
I am a man, not a fortress. I am a man, not a fortress…
“Look, Helena, I’m just going to say what I came to say.” The words tumbled out of him then, ten months of pent-up emotions finding their release. He told her how sorry he was for the way he’d ended things, that he’d been a coward, and that he had regretted it every day since, realizing after that night that he didn’t want to live without her.
And he told her that he’d been going to therapy, and that he was ready to be more open with her––to really let her see him. Though, he didn’t reveal that he’d overheard her conversation with Anna. There was no need. Raph knew he couldn’t point the finger at anyone but himself.
“I know I wasn’t the partner you deserved, but I’ve changed––I am changing. I want to be the man you need me to be… And I miss you, Helena. I still love you.”
Tears began rolling down her cheeks, and for a moment, hope flared in his chest.
“Helena … Can we please give this another shot? Please?” He stepped toward her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, but she flinched at his touch, turning away from him.
“Helena, I’m sorry… You’ll never know how sorry I am that I let my own issues get in the way of our future. And I know you can have any man you want, but I want you to want me again. I want us to––”
“Raph, stop.” She shook her head and looked at him with an unbearable amount of tenderness. “Please stop.” She was sobbing now, her shoulders shaking like leaves in the wind.
“Helena…” Unable to stand by and watch her cry without trying to do something, anything, to ease her pain, he reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away from him again. All he could do was wait patiently for her to regain her composure.
Raph didn’t know what to think, but he was beginning to feel like a fool for surprising her like this. He had no idea what was going on in her life––she could be engaged for all he knew. Yet, here he was, like a desperate, lovesick teenager, begging her to take him back.
“Rapheus,” she finally said, meeting his gaze. “Please believe me when I say that you will always have a special place in my heart, and…” Her tears flowed freely again. “God, I do love you… Just not in the way you want me to.”
His vision blurred, his knees went weak, and the ground seemed to tilt beneath his feet. Every emotion he’d been working so hard to control—the fear, the pain, the vulnerability—slammed into him all at once. The dream he had let flourish in his heart was gone, replaced by a bitter, waking nightmare. “I see.” His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, hollow and distant.
Helena’s face crumpled. “I’m so sorry, Raph. I wish things were––”
“Don’t.” He held up a hand, unable to handle her pity. “It’s fine. I understand, and I wish you all the happiness in the world.” He bit his bottom lip, hard, forcing himself to maintain composure. “You deserve it, Helena. I mean that.”
Raph turned before his tears could betray him and walked toward his car, each step weighted like he was moving through quicksand. Behind him, he heard Helena calling his name––soft, affectionate––but he didn’t stop. He refused to turn around, to look even once more on the face that had been his joy and his undoing.
Once inside the car, the dam finally broke. Raph dropped his head against the steering wheel and let the tears come—harsh, ugly sobs that tore from his chest like shards of glass. His ego lay in ruins, crushed to dust for the second time by the same woman.
He wished he’d never agreed to go to Dimitris’ party, never set eyes on her, never brought her into his world. He prayed for time to fold and allow him to go back to Santorini and spare himself this exquisite agony. But as the fantasy took shape in his mind, Raph knew it wasn’t true. Even now, broken, and humiliated, he couldn’t bring himself to truly regret loving her.
That was what hurt most of all.
Chapter Eight
