Her eyes burned and she looked away. “You don’t have to do that,” she whispered. “There’s no need to say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. I’d rather hear the truth from you.”

“And I’d rather protect you, agapi mou.”

Agapi mou. My love. Her chest squeezed, aching. “I remember when I really was your love.”

“You will always be my love.”

“But not the same way. It will never be the same.”

“No, it won’t be the same. It can’t be.”

He’d spoken gently, kindly, and for some reason that made it all even worse. “I hate what I did to us,” she said. “Hate that I destroyed us.”

“What did happen, Morgan? You were there one morning, and then gone that night. I just want to understand.”

She hadn’t planned on talking about what really happened, not here, not like this. “I wasn’t prepared for life as a newly-wed,” she said, stumbling a little over the words. “I … I had unrealistic expectations of our life in Greece.”

“What did you think it would be like?”

“Our honeymoon.”

“But you know I had to return to work.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know work for you meant twelve-hour days, every day.” Her hands twisted anxiously. “And I understand now, that’s just how you work, and I’m not criticizing you. But I didn’t understand then, how it would be, and it didn’t leave much time for me. I married you because I wanted to be with you, not because I wanted your money or a villa in Greece.”

“Looking back, I know now I wasn’t very flexible with my hours. I regret how much I worked.”

“You loved your work.”

“But I loved you more, Morgan.”

She’d looked into his eyes as he said it and for a moment she was lost, his amber gaze that intense, searing heat of old, and her heart felt wrenched and she fought to hold back the tears.

She couldn’t cry … couldn’t cry … wouldn’t cry….

“So where do we go now?” she murmured, holding back the tears by smiling hard, smiling to hide her pain and how much she’d missed Drakon, and how much she’d always love Drakon. “What’s next on our tour?”

“Lunch,” he said lightly, smiling back at her. “I’ve a restaurant in mind, it’s on our way home in Sorrento.”

They didn’t actually eat in Sorrento, but at a restaurant just outside the city, on the way to Positano. The simple one-story restaurant was tucked high into the mountain, off the beaten path, with a beamed ceiling and breathtaking views of the coast.

Normally the restaurant just served dinner, but today they’d opened for them for lunch, and Morgan and Drakon had the place to themselves.

With the expansive windows open, and course after course of the most delicious seafood and pasta arriving at their table, Morgan felt the tension easing from between her shoulders. After finishing her coffee, she leaned back in her chair. “This was really lovely, Drakon. I feel almost optimistic again. Thank you.”