Book 2 Chapter 24
Dinner should have been peaceful since it was the simple end to a long day. Ioannis had ordered the table to be set out on the terrace instead of the dinning room, there were loft lights hanging around, the view of the sea glimmered beyond the terrace, and Loki rested near her foot.
But Yalda barely tasted the food on her plate.
Her fork pushed the vegetables around uninterestedly, dragging soft lines through the sauce she hadn’t touched. Ioannis watched her discreetly, not commenting at first, he chose to observe before intruding. And it didn’t take him long to pick up on the tension around her eyes and the stiffness around her shoulders.
She was upset, and he could tell.
“Yalda,” he said finally, his voice was gentle, “you’re barely eating.”
She gaze snapped to his at once and she forced on a smile.
“I’m just tired.” she replied quickly.
But even she knew she didn't seem convincing. She hadn't intended to Marina get to her, but somehow she had, and she was still upset about it.
“Tired,” Ioannis repeated softly, not believing it for a second.
His gaze tracked her face, he watched how she struggled to keep her expression neutral. And the fact that he was watching her so intently made it more difficult for Yalda to contain everything she felt at the moment, tears prickled the back of her eyes but she blinked quickly, forcing them back.
But he saw them, and his hand which had been reaching for his glass stilled immediately.
“Yalda,” he murmured, his tone changing. He was serious now, really serious. "What's the problem?"
She looked down at her plate quickly, her throat was burning, it felt so tight.
“I’m fine. Really.” she replied.
But she wasn't. It wasn't just about Marina, it was about what she had reminded her of; New York, the office, the whispers about how she'd only gotten her position because she was sleeping with Alexander.
Meanwhile, she'd worked so hard and put in her best in such a way that made Alexander not want to replace her even when he didn't want her working so much.
She recalled how Zayn has also said the same thing, how he'd told her she would have been nothing if she hadn't slept with Alexander. She recalled how much it had stung, how much she'd hated herself.
But Alexander had been there to reassure her and make her feel better about herself and her accomplishments. And she hadn't let such things bother her anymore till now.
It wasn't just about what Marina had said, it was about the fact that it had sliced through and old scar.
She blinked again, but this time the tears fell, and wiped them off quickly, not wanting Ioannis to notice, but he did.
“Stand up,” he said softly as he pushed his seat back and rose.
she began shaking her head, wanting to tell him she was fine. “Ioannis...."
“Come on,” he insited, he was going to hear nothing of it.
She hesitated, then pushed her chair back and followed him. He took her hand and began guiding her away, he didn’t take her upstairs or toward the living room. Instead, he guided her through the glass doors onto the garden pathway.
The night air smelled of citrus blossoms and rosemary today in the garden. The sky was darkening, and streaks of lavender and orange made it seem like a painting.
“Breathe,” Ioannis instructed.
And she did, she inhaled shakily as he brushed a thumb over the corner of her eye, catching another tear she hadn’t realized had fallen.
“Talk to me, Yalda.”
She shook her head once more. She was so bad at hiding things from him but still, she tried.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered.
“It’s something,” he corrected. “Tell me what the problem is."
"I....I don't want to talk about it." She croaked. "Please?"
She knew him, and she knew that he'd do anything to protect her. He would fire Helen and Marina, yes, but he would also be reluctant to let her keep working.
He seemed to think it through for a moment before nodding once.
Without another word, he slipped an arm around her waist and guided her deeper into the garden till they got to where the berry bushes grew. He reached down and gently plucked a few dark, ripe berries from the branches.
“Sit,” he said, nodding to the stone bench under the apple tree.
She sat quietly. And she watched him pluck more berries before he came to sit beside her, his warmth enveloped her at once and she was wasting again grateful for his presence.
“Open your hand.” he said, and she did. He placed the berries in her palm. “Eat.”
She wasn't sure she wanted to, but she trusted him more than she teusted herself and she knew that whatever we decisions he made were in her favor always. She lifted the first berry to her lips and but into it, the sweetness burst across her tongue immediately but it didn't make her feel better, nonetheless, she kept eating.
He brushed a knuckle along her jaw tenderly.
“Good girl.” he praised, causing her breath to falter.
She ate another berry more determinedly, and her shoulders began to relax.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek rewardingly.
"I'm trusting you to make the decision of whether or not you tell me what the problem is." He said. "You only have to say the word and I'll take care of it, I'll take care of everything."
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it, but he caught it with his lips.
“Look at me,” he murmured. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. "I'll take care of you, you know that right?"
She nodded. She did, she knew he would, and she was so grateful for that.
He leaned forward and kissed her lips deeply, his fingers slid into her hair and he cupped the back of her head firmly as his tongue slid into her mouth to taste the sweetness of the berries.
Her fingers curled into his shirt, holding on, she let herself melt into him completely.
The kiss grew warmer, his mouth traced hers with hunger, a hunger drawn out by seeing her hurt. His thumb stroked under her jaw, coaxing her to relax and forget everything.
She did.
He tasted faintly of the wine they'd been drinking during dinner, and she loved it. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.
“I hate seeing tears on you,” he murmured. “Especially when I know you’re holding them back.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Don't apologize for hurting.” he said.
And he kissed her again, slower now, like he was savoring every second of it. Her chest loosened, she felt the ache fading. He kissed her till she was breathless, to she wasn't crying anymore. And then he gestured toward the berries.
“Finish them,” he murmured.
She ate another, her heartbeat finally steadying.
Ioannis stayed sitting her, watching her with that quiet intensity only he possessed. There was no judgment, no more questions, just support and warmth.
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