Nodding, I say, “Thank you.” When he hangs around, I add, “You can leave.”
Looking uncomfortable, he starts to walk to the door. “Call the nurses if you need anything.”
As soon as he’s out of the room, Dad comes in.
“Shut the door,” I order, then I look at Helena. “The doctor said there’s a history of abuse. Broken bones.” I struggle to control the rage swamping me. “What the fuck happened to Theresa as a child?”
“N-nothing,” Helena stammers. “She was clumsy and once broke her arm. Another time she fell out of a tree and broke a couple of ribs. But that’s it.”
That’s not it.
The way Tess trembled when Irene was near tells me there’s more to the story. My gut screams at me to get to the bottom of this.
“Could Irene have hurt Tess?”
Helena frowns, clearly confused. “I thought you said it wasn’t her?”
“Did Irene have access to Tess? Was she there when Tess got hurt as a child?” I shout, making Helena flinch. She moves to Dad’s side as if he can protect her from me.
“Yes. We were living with Kostas, my brother-in-law, up until he passed away four years ago.”
My tone drops low, murder coating the words as I hiss, “And not once you thought your daughter was being abused?”
Helena starts to shake her head, her eyes jump between Tess and me, then she begins to pale. “Theè mou… I didn’t know. Theresa never said anything.”
“Because she was probably fucking terrified!”
“Nikolas,” Dad says my name in a way that’s meant to calm me, but I shake my head at him.
What did Theresa endure at the hands of Irene? How old was she? Eight?
“How old was Tess when her father died?”
“Eight,” Helena answers immediately.
She was subjected to that fucking evil bitch from age eight to seventeen.
Christé mou.
My heart.
Sinking down on a chair, I carefully pick up Tess’ hand and press it to my forehead as I focus on breathing.
I was a fucking asshole when we met. I threatened her, and even fucking enjoyed it. I relished in her fear.
Christé mou.
My guilt thickens until it threatens to suffocate me.
Tess’ tears. Her pleading with me to stop. It all becomes crystal clear in my mind.
She’ll never be able to love me, not after everything I did to her.
I fucking capitalized on Tess’ weakness – the fear instilled by Irene.
“Nikolas?” Dad asks.
“Leave me alone with my wife,” I whisper, too consumed with my own guilt and need for revenge to be concerned with them.
The moment they leave and I’m finally alone with Tess, I lift my head, my eyes drifting over her pale face. “I’m so fucking sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”
Her eyes flutter, and when they open, confusion tightens her features, followed by pain. When she looks at me, and I see recognition in her irises, I move to sit on the side of the bed. Gripping her hand to my chest, I use my free one to gently brush over her cheek.
“Hey, baby, you scared the living hell out of me,” I whisper as if speaking too loud might cause her more pain.
Tess’ tongue darts out to wet her lips, then she asks, “Where am I?”
“The hospital.”
“Oh…” Panic flares to life in her eyes. “Oh… right… I lost my balance. It was so stu–”
I shake my head hard, wondering how many times she had to lie while terrified for her life. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know what happened.”
Tess’ eyes widen. “You do?”
“Irene attacked you.” My fingers keep brushing over her cheek. “She’ll pay for hurting you.”
Tess shakes her head, pain flickers over her face, then she sucks in a deep breath, her features crumbling beneath the weight of all the hell she was forced to endure.
Leaning forward, I brace my forearm beside her head and press a kiss to her trembling lips. “It will never happen again, kardiá mou. I promise.”
Tess begins to cry, and whether it’s because of relief or trauma, I’ll never know.
Careful not to hurt her, I wrap my arms around her. I support the back of her head, and when she buries her face against my neck, I hold my wife as she breaks down.
I realize just how strong Tess’ has been to face me, to cope with Irene tormenting her for fucking years.
“I’m so fucking sorry for the times I threatened you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with regret. “I’m sorry for manhandling you and forcing you to obey me. I didn’t know about the anxiety or the abuse.”
Christ, am I sorry.
“Please forgive me.” I press a kiss to the bandage, the pungent smell of antiseptic fluid filling my nostrils. “If you can’t, I don’t know what I’ll fucking do.”
It takes minutes before Tess calms enough to whisper, “As long as you don’t do it again.”
“Never.” I pull back, carefully setting her head down on the pillow. “I promise.”