A riot of vivid colour brush-stroked the horizon, signalling the approach of night. Silently awed, and my breath held, I watched the colours settle into breathtaking layers of a purple and orange sunset.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, lost in my turbulent thoughts, selfishly praying for things I couldn’t have. And even when I sensed Axios’s approach I didn’t turn around, didn’t give in to the raw need to fill my senses with the sight and sound of him.

Instead I gripped the rope barrier until my knuckles shrieked with just a fraction of the pain shredding my insides.

Whether he sensed my mood or not, Axios didn’t speak either. But when he stopped behind me I felt the intensity of his presence. And when he slid an arm around my waist and engulfed me in the poignant scents of father and son I couldn’t help the scalding tears that prickled my eyes.

With a soft moan I sagged into his hold, and the three of us stood on the platform, staring at the horizon as the bright orange ball of the sun dipped into the sea and a blanket of stars started to fill the sky.

‘Come,’ he said eventually, his voice low and deep. ‘The chef is almost done preparing dinner. Let’s go put our son to bed, hmm?’

Throat tight with locked emotion, I nodded, making sure to avoid his probing gaze as we made our back into the villa. After putting a dozing Andreos in his cot, we retraced our steps to the open terrace, where a candlelit dinner had been laid out.

There, Axios pulled out a chair and I sat, my stomach in knots and my heart bleeding, as I looked at the face of the man I was hopelessly in love with.

The man I could never have.

Theos mou, she was gorgeous.

The breath that had stalled in my lungs fought to emerge as I watched candlelight dance over her face and throat. Even the veil of melancholy shrouding her didn’t detract from the captivating mix of fire and calm I wanted to experience for a very long time.

For ever.

Our three-course dinner had passed in stilted conversation, and our appetites had been non-existent. She’d refused dessert and I’d downed my aromatic espresso in one go.

But it was time.

Business pressures had forced this conversation to the back burner for the last four days. It was time to lay my cards on the table.

‘About the divorce you requested: I would like to renegotiate...’

A vice tightened my sternum when wild panic flared in her eyes. The hand resting on the table began to tremble and she snatched it away, tucking it into her lap as she exhaled sharply. ‘What do you mean, “renegotiate”? You gave me your word!’

For the first time I felt a visceral need to take it all back, to smash it to pieces and rebuild something new, something lasting from the rubble created from greed and blind lust. Because there was something more here. This...distance between us had cemented my belief that this wasn’t just sex. That I’d fallen deeper, farther than even my imagination could fathom. Perhaps even into that dimension where Calypso could exist.