He gave himself a mental shake, wiping his face clean of whatever was causing her cheeks to grow hollow and her eyes to widen with apprehension.
“Nothing,” he stated. It felt like a lie. A grave one. “Georgiou’s email the other day said things were going well with the officials in Istuval. He said we should have something soon. I thought this was the finalized postnuptial, but it’s also Illi’s adoption papers.” He showed her the official certificates.
Tanja’s eyes latched on to the Canadian passport and she snatched it up. “Oh, my God! When he asked me to get her photo taken for this, I thought it would take weeks.”
She flipped it open, saw Illi’s name and clasped the passport to her heart. Her eyes welled. “She’s mine? Really? Oh, my God, Leon. Thank you. Thank you.”
She hurried around to throw herself against him in a shaking mass of every emotion—joy and relief and things he couldn’t identify.
“It’s okay.” Leon reflexively closed his arms around her and ran soothing hands over her back. “Yes, she’s yours now.”
“I feel terrible for being this happy,” she said through her sniffles. “I mean, her mother should have her, right? And Brahim is still out there—”
“You’re still allowed to be happy, Tanja.” He wondered sometimes how such a slender body could contain such a big heart. “You want her to be safe and loved, and she is.”
“I just wish I could give him this, too. Bring him with us when we take Illi h-home.”
He stiffened slightly.
She felt it and jerked her head up, fighting to get hold of her emotions. “We are taking her home, aren’t we?”
He was tempted, so tempted to give in to what he wanted despite knowing it was the worst possible thing he could do to her. He refused to lead her on again, though. No matter how much he wanted to let this play out until what could only be a bitter end.
“You are.” His body was bracing so hard against the inevitable pain that was coming that he felt as though hairline fractures were creeping through his limbs and torso and neck.
“But—” Here came the hurt, the flash of betrayal that cut him in half, the profound anguish that filled him with guilt. “What do you mean? We’re a family. Aren’t we?”
His arms wanted to squeeze her in, but he made himself drop them away.
“You and Illi are. It’s time you took her to meet the rest of yours.”
“But—”
“This is what we knew would happen, Tanja.” He spoke over her. “It happened sooner than later. That’s good. I’m glad you didn’t have to wait years to know she’s indisputably your daughter. But this is what we agreed, that you would take her home when the time came.”
“But I don’t have to, Leon! I mean, I want to go home. I miss everyone and I want to meet my nephew and introduce Illi to everyone, but we could all go. And then—”
She stopped speaking, not saying aloud that they could come back here.
Because he was already dismissing the notion with a pained shake of his head.
“Think about this clearly, Tanja. This is the best outcome. It’s not a fight. We’re ending things on a civil note with a clean settlement already worked out.” He waved at his desk where the postnuptial contract sat, thick and heavy and not nearly as satisfying as he had anticipated.
“So I’m supposed to just leave? With Illi? And we’ll never talk to one another again? You don’t even care that I’m taking her away from you?”
That was a knife to the vitals that gave such a hard wrench he could hardly breathe. He waved again at the document he had thought would make all of this easy, but it wasn’t easy at all. He had to fight to hold on to a level tone.
“I have the right to expect regular updates. Photos and occasional visits.” It wasn’t enough. He already felt cheated. “We’ll each provide for her in our own way, but we’re both ensuring she has the best life we’re capable of offering.”
“And that’s enough for you?” she cried with disbelief, backing off a few steps as though she could hardly take in all the ways he was disappointing her. “A couple of photos and the assurance that she’ll have a good education is all you want from either of us? Don’t you feel anything else? You acted like I was your salvation the other night!”
It had felt that way, and that was why he had to let her go before he couldn’t.
“The goal was to end this on a civilized note,” he reminded her, dredging up the cool ruthlessness he’d been raised on. “Can we?”
She flinched at his tone, making him feel like a bastard, but that was exactly why they had to end this. How did she not see that, eventually, this was what their marriage would devolve into, only so much worse?
Tanja stood before him with her hands in knotted fists, her body trembling with impotence, mouth working with hurt. Angry tears in her eyes.
“You have put me in an impossible position, Leon.” Her voice was thick with outrage. “If I fight for you, for us, you’ll see it as me trying to prolong this argument, which will only drive you away. So fine. I won’t fight. If you want me to leave, I will. As soon as I can book a flight. But know this.” She held up a trembling finger. “I am leaving because... I love you. I’m doing this for you, because I want to give you the thing you think will make you happy.”
She started to walk out, paused at the door.
“But I won’t wait five years again.”
Leon spent the next weeks traveling. Each time he walked into his empty penthouse, he couldn’t stand the silence, the lack of clutter or the profound absence. He found excuse after excuse to leave town, but only felt emptier and emptier as time wore on.
Tanja, damn her, had sent one text to say they’d landed safely and nothing else.
He hadn’t reached out, either. They were back to the stalemate of their first five years of marriage.
Until she ended that, too.
When Georgiou sent him the notice that she’d finalized the papers and taken Leon’s ten-million-euro settlement, Leon was knocked onto his ass. He sat down to get drunk and couldn’t even do that. He just sat there with his bottle of ouzo on the coffee table, staring at the spot on the carpet where Illi had spit up and left a stain.
He should only feel satisfaction that she had taken the money. He wanted to provide for her and Illi, and some integral part of him was pleased he was able to do that much for them, but he genuinely hadn’t expected her to take his money.
Even though she had told him she wouldn’t wait for him, he hadn’t expected her to end it. That was the stark truth. She had said she loved him, and some distant part of him had known in those seconds that he loved her, too. That the emotional connection between them would never die. It couldn’t.