Alexandros looked to his brother, expecting him to subtly rein his wife in.
But Petros was smiling at Corrina in nothing less than approval. “As always, you are quite right, agape mou. She has never needed the stylists my brother insists on paying for.”
The look Corrina gave Petros was nothing short of adoration. There was something about that look that bothered Alexandros, but he could not put his finger on what it was. It was a good thing that his newly married sister-in-law looked at her husband like he was a superhero. That was as it should be.
So why did Alexandros get a strange, unpleasant feeling every time he noticed it? He looked sideways at his own wife. She was not returning his regard.
No surprise there. She never looked at him unless good manners dictated she do so. She stood now, removed from the conversation like a statue in a museum.
“I do not expect to be taken to task in my own home,” his mother said in freezing tones.
That didn’t seem to impact Corrina at all.
Petros, on the other hand, wasn’t so calm. Displeasure turned his expression dark and he snapped, “Giving Polly a compliment is not taking you to task. My wife is allowed to have a different opinion from you, and if you are not mature enough to accept that, perhaps we need to rethink these family dinners.”
“Petros, how dare you talk to me that way?” their mother demanded, sounding utterly shocked.
“Oh, Mama, don’t take on so,” their younger, and unashamedly spoiled sister butted in. “You know how protective Petros is of his beloved wife. It’s the way of the Kristalakis male. You remember how Papa used to be?”
As always, mention of her dead spouse brought a fragile smile to his mother’s face, and she unbent enough to nod. “I suppose, but still, Petros, I am your mother.”
His mother had fallen apart after his father’s death. After losing both her parents only a year prior, he maybe should have expected her broken response to further loss. But he hadn’t, and things had gotten very bad before Alexandros had taken action.
For a time, he had worried they would lose her to grief. They nearly had. She’d stopped bathing, stopped going out. In desperation, he had booked her into a luxury rest facility.
It had worked and she’d returned to the villa more herself, but Alexandros never forgot those dark days and how fragile of spirit his mother was under her society grande dame facade.
“And Corrina is my wife.”
There could be no doubt in that room which woman came first in Petros’s estimation. His mother looked furious again, and Stacia glared at their brother. “No one is denying that. We all love Corrina.” Then Stacia shook her head, put an arm around her mother and said, “You can’t be angry you raised him to be so much like Papa.”
“No, I suppose not.”
Stacia smiled. “Corrina and Anna are the luckiest women alive, being married to Kristalakis men. I’m sure no one will ever measure up for me. They are the most protective and considerate men on the planet. Right, Anna?”
Alexandros was surprised when his sister tried to bring his wife into the conversation. Even after five years, Stacia hadn’t warmed up completely to his American bride. But he was shocked stupid by Anna’s response.
“I wouldn’t know, Stacia. I never knew your father.” Pollyanna moved to take a seat in one of the armchairs, precluding him sitting beside her. She didn’t use to do that either. Another barely there wince worried him. Was she having pain in her back and pelvis again with this pregnancy? “But Alexandros has never been the protective and considerate husband to me that Petros is to Corrina.”
The words were so shocking that for a moment, his usually facile brain froze in trying to understand them. She had not just said that his brother was a better husband than him.
Pollyanna’s reply to his sister had been incomprehensible enough, but the tone in which she said it even more so. His wife did not sound angry. She did not even sound resigned. Pollyanna sounded like she simply didn’t care that he, Alexandros Theos Kristalakis, did not measure up to his younger brother in the husband stakes.
Worse was yet to come as he took in the reactions of his family.
Stacia managed to look both offended and satisfied at the same time. His mother’s expression showed offence and concern, but it was Corrina’s reaction that struck him like a blow to his ego. She looked at Pollyanna with undisguised pity. And his brother?
Petros wasn’t looking at Pollyanna at all; he was looking at Alexandros, and his expression was equal parts anger and disappointment.
It was not the type of look Alexandros was accustomed to receiving from any member of his family, but especially his younger brother.
Alexandros had a realization so stunning, it nearly took him out at the knees. His brother and his brother’s wife thought he was a poor husband. Even more staggering, the flat tone of his wife, the absolute belief that tone imbued to her own words said she thought the same thing.
A discussion he’d had with his brother before Petros’s marriage to Corrina came back to Alexandros now.
Alexandros gave his brother, Petros, a stern glance over the coffee they shared after a productive meeting with their top-level executives. “Is it really so much to ask that you put your honeymoon off for one week so you can attend this gala? You know how important it is to our mother.”
“Yes.” Petros’s glare was more than stern; it showed a stubborn resolve Alexandros was not used to his brother turning on him. “If you think I’m making the same choices in my marriage you’ve made in yours, then you are wrong. I know Mama had a hard time after Papa died, but her feelings are not more important than the woman I have chosen to spend the rest of my life with. I will never put her desires ahead of Corrina’s.”
“Family requires sacrifice. We balance the needs of our wives with those of the rest of our family.” It hadn’t been easy for Alexandros to watch his mother and wife jockey for position in his life.
But ultimately he’d never doubted Polly’s ability to hold her own and stand up for herself when it mattered.
There was no humor in Petros’s laugh. “You mean like you balance your wife’s needs against that of our mother and sister?”
“Precisely.”
“No thank you. I would like my wife to still be in love with me five years from now.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I am not putting off my honeymoon to make our mother happy.”
At the time, Alexandros had dismissed the dramatic implication of his brother’s words. But they came back to haunt the eldest brother now.
Had Pollyanna stopped loving Alexandros? She still responded to him in bed like a woman in love. Or a woman in lust. But love? It wasn’t an emotion he’d been particularly worried about when they first got together. He’d called her agape mou but had rarely told her he loved her, and she’d never pressed for declarations of that nature. Not even when he proposed.