She wasn’t going to delve beyond that, because she didn’t know enough about him to trade childhood snapshots. Not yet, anyway. And probably not ever, since she wouldn’t see him again once she’d left the island.
A pang went through her at the thought of going back to Toronto. As much as she loved her parents and her adopted city, she had put down the first tiny threads of roots on Mythelios. The second she’d stepped onto the island there’d been a sense of home. Of belonging. Maybe because of her Greek heritage. But her savings would eventually run out and she would have to go back to work.
The question was where.
He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen and turned toward her, propping his left shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms. “It must have been quite an adjustment moving to Canada, then.”
She had to backtrack for a second to realize he was talking about her being an only child.
“In some ways. But I think it made it easier for me to adapt. Toronto has a lot of immigrants, but I went to school. I had to learn English quickly in order to survive. Sink or swim. I swam.”
And Mark hadn’t.
He pursed his lips. “You’ve left your position there, though. Where are you off to next? Back to Canada?”
It was as if he’d read her mind. “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Her parents were there. And yet the last thing she wanted to do was face her and Mark’s old apartment. She’d have to, though, even if just to pack up her things. His belongings were long gone. Mark’s mom and dad had been tasked with the heartbreaking job of sorting through everything and deciding what to do with his personal items. She’d spent the week in a hotel to give them some privacy. That had been many months ago, but the sharp sting of those days still remained.
“I understand how that is.”
His arms dropped to his sides, his posture opening up as if he really did understand her uncertainty.
Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I think dinner is probably just about ready. Are you okay with eating out on the back deck? It should be cooling off outside by now.”
“Outside sounds wonderful.” She hoped her tone didn’t give away how relieved she was they were not to be seated at opposite ends of that enormous table.
The right side of his mouth kicked up in a way that said he was just as glad. “Good. Then if you’ll get the plates out of that cabinet by the sink, I’ll get the pan out of the oven.”
Opening the glass-fronted cabinet, she pulled down two ornate pieces of china, giving a quick wrinkle of her nose that she hoped he wouldn’t see. Maybe their conversation would be a little less brittle than the dinnerware. Maybe they could even put that awkward first meeting behind them and get off on a better foot. For as long as they both were here.
She grimaced at how close that was to another sentence. If Mark had lived they would be married. But he hadn’t. And they weren’t. And Lea had no plans to leap into another romance anytime soon.
Right now she just needed to focus on putting that painful period in her life behind her. While she never would have wished Mythelios’s earthquake on anyone, it had served to take her mind off herself and focus on doing good for those on the island. Didn’t she always tell her patients that giving back to others was a great way to derail self-pity? She should have taken a page from her own book months ago. But she hadn’t been ready to let go of the apartment which was a last connection to her fiancé.
She took a deep breath and accepted the steaming plate Deakin handed her with a murmured thank-you.
One thing was for sure, though. She was never getting involved with another man who carried a truckload of baggage. If she dated again, she was picking someone fun. Someone full of sunshine and light.
No brooding. No past trauma.
She gave a mental pinky-swear...to herself.
Happy, cheerful, and an eternal optimist. That was the best prescription she could think of.
And what better place to start than with herself?
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