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He had not seen Laurel, or heard her voice, in two months—but she ith hihts were even worse Alone in the darkness, in the bed where he’d once held his wife in his ar into restless, dream-filled sleep

He had considered returning to New York, but he could not i behind a desk, in the same city where Laurel lived And so he stayed on Actos, and worked, and sweated, and oversaw his business interests by computer, phone and fax He told hio away

It hadn’t If anything, it had groorse

He knew that Eleni and Spiro were almost frantic orry

“Is he trying to kill hione out the door “You must speak to him, Spiro,” she’d said

Daehaood for hih already Damian had told him so, on his return to Greece

“Was it you who permitted my wife to leave the island and follow me to New York?” he’d demanded

Spiro had stiffened “Né,” he’d said, “yes, it was I”

Damian’s hands had balled into fists “On whose authority did you do this thing, old man?”

“On my own,” Spiro had replied quietly “The woman was not a prisoner here”

A muscle had knotted in Damian’s cheek “No,” he’d said, “she was not”

Spiro had waited before speaking again

“She said that she had soreat importance to tell you,” he’d said, his eyes on Dae?”

Damian’s mouth had twisted “She did, indeed,” he’d replied, and when Spiro had tried to sayto discuss The woain”

She had not been, to this day But that didn’t mean he didn’t think about her, and drea for the feel of his ared for hers?

Did she ever think of how close they’d come to happiness?

Da the hammer hard, but his aim wasn’t true His vision was blurred—by sweat, for what else could it be?—and the ha blow

“Daain

“Damian,” Spiro’s voice was soft “The rock is not your enemy”

“And you are not a philosopher,” Daain

“What you battle is not the boulder, my son, it is yourself”

Daer faded when he looked at the old man Spiro looked exhausted Sweat stained his dark trousers and shirt; his weathered face was bright red and there was a tremor in his hands

Why was the old fool so stubborn? The heat was too ehaloves

“It is hot,” he said “I need so to drink”

“There is a bottle of retsina in my jacket, under the tree”

Daround and slipped it on

“I know the sort of retsina you drink, old h, without its help We will go up to the house Perhaps we can convince Eleni to give us some cold beer”

“Né” Spiro smiled “For once, you have an excellent idea”

It took no convincing at all Eleni took one look at thelasses out to the terrace Dalasses, handed one bottle to the old ainst the railing and took a long drink Spiro drank, too, then wiped his mustache with the back of his hand

“When do you return to New York?” he said

Daet rid of me?”

“You cannot avoid reality forever, Damian”

“Spiro” Da more It is hot, I am in a bad mood—”

“As if that were anything new”

Damian tilted the beer bottle to his lips He drank, then set the bottle down “I ao inside, where it is cooler”

“I suggest you stop pretending you do not have a wife”