Pollyanna and the Greek Billionaire

Part II: Chapter 9

"You're acting weird," Pollyanna ventured, but her unease was more out of concern than anything else. It was like he was drunk but not, like he was there but not there. She had been surprised to see him waiting for her at home and her godparents nowhere to be found. He had surprised her even more by telling her he was in no mood to go out and if she minded that they eat in instead.

She hadn't of course, but she did wonder why he chose to have dinner here, when things weren't still exactly okay between him and her godparents. She had tried asking about it once with Dinah, but when the older woman had told her it was up to Kyr to speak about it, Pollyanna had let it be.

Probably because of money, she had guessed sadly. Wasn't that the usual thing that made rich and not-so-rich people quarrel?

"You really don't look okay," she said worriedly. "Do you want to go up and rest?" She expected him to refuse, but when he nodded wordlessly, her worry increased. He must really be feeling bad if he was okay with spending even more time here at home with her.

When Pollyanna took him to her room, a part of him had already expected the inevitable. The house had only two bedrooms, after all. Where else would the Floros put Polly except in Ana's old room?

But he was even more disconcerted to find that the room had been preserved almost like a shrine.

"It looks amazingly modern, doesn't it?" Pollyanna was grinning at him. She had the same stunned reaction as Kyr did now, the first time she had seen the bedroom. While the rest of the house felt homey and rustic, this bedroom was all urban chic, with its mix of feminine colors and use of steel and plastic. None of the stuff was expensive, but the amount of careful planning that went its arrangement succeeded in giving the bedroom a classy feel.

Seeing Pollyanna so happy about Ana's choice of décor didn't feel right, and he heard himself say, "I think I should go."

Pollyanna gaped. "But you need to rest---"

He shook his head. "Sorry," he said tiredly. "I think it's best I should go home. I'm not terribly good company---" He stopped speaking when Polly suddenly bolted out of the room, as if unable to bear hearing him.

Fuck.

He knew he should go after her, and he probably would, in time. As soon as, he thought bleakly, he got over this heavy sense of emptiness that was spreading inside of him.

Ana was marrying someone else.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Had he meant nothing to her at all?

Fists clenching, he finally swung around to leave, and that was when he heard footsteps and, a moment later, Polly appeared on the doorway, breathing hard, a tray in her hands.

On it were a plate of cheese sandwiches and two glasses of milk.

"My mom makes me this when I feel bad," she said hesitantly. Raising the tray, she asked, "Want some?"

And that was how he found himself sitting on Ana's old bed, eating cheese sandwiches and drinking a glass of milk like a good little boy. Beside him, Pollyanna was nodding like a mother looking after a child, and he said irritably, "Stop that."

She gave him a look of feigned hurt. "I'm just concerned."

"No, you're not. Your face's a dead giveaway. In the past five minutes, you've been quietly rejoicing about the fact that you were able to take care of me or something like that." She responded like she always did, and he felt a smile tugging at his lips. Dammit, but that blowfish look of hers never failed.