The Choices We Made Read online

  The Choices We Made

  Lexie James

  This novel is a work of fiction, the characters, their actions and the events portrayed in this book owe their existence to the imagination of the author. Any similarity to real people, either living or dead is purely coincidental.

  TEXT COPYRIGHT © 2015 LEXIE JAMES

  Lexie James asserts the right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Thanks to Munroe Cunningham for my wonderful front cover that brought my characters to life.

  To aspiring writers, he was so helpful, find him at: www.coverdesign-ebook.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded or by any other means without the prior written permission of the author.

  To dreamers all, may you find

  your own magic

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTYONE

  CHAPTER TWENTYTWO

  CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE

  CHAPTER TWENTYFOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTYFIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTYSIX

  CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTYEIGHT

  SNEAK PREVIEW: THE SECRETS BENEATH

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Christos, will you please be reasonable for once in your life! I am simply asking you to attend a dinner with some old friends of mine. I know you are suspicious that their daughter will also be in attendance but she has been running the European side of her father’s business for years and I am sure you will find that you have a great deal in common. That is all I am asking you to do. It’s not as if I am asking you to please propose marriage to the girl, honestly I have more sense than to suggest anything as stupid as that! ”

  Maria was trying incredibly hard to sound calm when in reality she would have preferred to grab her son by the scruff of his neck and beat him until he showed some semblance of the common sense and courtesy that she knew he had been born with. Even if she had seen very little of it since his father had died and he had had to take up the mantle of running the family empire.

  “Mother, yet again, I am telling you that my answer is a definite no. When will you get it into your head that I will not allow you to continue to arrange these ridiculous pseudo-dates. What do you think I am? Some sort of prize stud? Your notion of the kind of woman you think will suit me is very different from the kind of woman that I prefer.”

  “Unless it has escaped your notice you will be thirty-two years old this year and I am no nearer being a grandmother! When I think of the type of women you seem to prefer…” She paused sighing dramatically, “I’m not blind you know, I read the newspapers and I’ve seen the pictures of women draped across your arms. Honestly Christos not one of them looks to have a single maternal bone in their beautiful bodies. If I don’t do something to introduce you to the right type of girl there is every chance that I shan’t live long enough to see a single grandchild born. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Butt out! That’s what you should do. Butt out of my life and just quit with your interfering.”

  He slammed the phone down hard, wishing she could hear the sound of it and understand how truly angry he was with her. Yet even as that thought danced around his head he instinctively knew that even if she had realised, she would have continued to ignore his anger in order to get her point across to him.

  Why, he fumed, do I have to be so unfortunate as to have a bloody mother who continually spends all her waking moments trying to interfere in my social life? If she could only manage to channel some of that boundless enthusiasm into coming into the office and offering to do a job or two then he would be able to give Adrienne some time off. But no, even though she was perfectly capable of doing that she had to commit all her time into finding him a wife. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, pausing to let his eyes wander unseeing around the room.

  Unlike many of his contemporaries he still wore his hair unfashionably long. Swept back from his face, dark black curls clustered around his neck, the whole creating a perfect frame for his sun tanned face and mesmerising eyes. Eyes that tempted with their tantalising, twinkling promise. Eyes that offered heaven on a plate-softness, kindness, understanding, sensuality as they smouldered with the warmth of melting chocolate laced with honey and sparkled with myriad specks of gold. Yet, whilst you were being bewitched and beguiled, you foolishly bypassed the rugged determined jaw and strong mouth that was so skilfully obscured by the designer stubble he carefully cultivated to the despair of his mother. It was that mouth that was, at this moment, clamped tight together in anger.

  That mouth could be as eloquent as his speech for it could change from bestowing a smile that would light up a room to resembling a line of granite that could render you silent and quaking in your boots, waiting for the fury that was about to be released upon you. From his Italian mother and his Greek father he had inherited the Mediterranean looks that had girls and women dreaming they would be the one to hold his hand and his heart.

  Unfortunately, for those foolhardy enough to cross him, he had also inherited from them their volatile tempers. The temper that was, at this very moment, about to explode with devastating effect upon the nearest object that he could lay his hands upon.

  He contemplated the cut class in his hand and the distant wall then thought better of it, he was rather fond of this set of glasses.

  Instead he stalked out of his flat and down the stairs to the gym, hardly pausing to pull on his gym gear before he was smashing the squash ball against the far side of the wall. Rhythmically the sound of the beaten ball echoed around the enclosure as he sought to control and annihilate his anger.

  His interfering mother had, yet again, obviously found the person she was sure would become his life mate and the mother of the grandchildren that she was absolutely insistent he owed to her. He went over and over in his head every single moment in his life when she had overstepped the mark and attempted to meddle in situations that were none of her bloody concern.

  His inability to stop her unrequited actions fuelled his anger almost as much as her interference did.

  The ball slammed against the back wall with such a force that it ricocheted off the front wall before he was finally able to again capture it with his racket. Doggedly he continued to punish the ball, focussing solely on that, until he finally began to feel as if his anger was nearly under control.

  He entered the shower with some degree of calmness and reviewed the phone call. He had been rude and he knew, eventually, that he would have to ring her and apologise but not today, definitely not today. He needed space today, space from her, space from her perpetual interference, she was just so damn annoying.

  Part of him totally understood her actions – yet another part of him wanted to shoot her, metaphorically speaking.

  His life would have been so different if his brother and father were still alive, but they were gone and with their passing the dreams he had had for his life had vanished. Instead he ha
d stepped into their shoes, become them and pretended that his aspirations were theirs.

  Was it living this lie that prevented him from forming a long term relationship? Was he afraid of letting someone close enough to see the real him?

  He began to relax as the stream of hot water worked its magic. Slowly he let his mind wander back through his life and, as the barriers he had erected quietly slipped away, he found himself facing the one event that he had tried for so long to forget.

  The face of Lindy Jagars danced before his eyes and pain again engulfed his senses.

  Like a film unfolding in his mind’s eye he watched his first fresher’s morning, as he had moved from stand to stand, sorting out his registration. He should have been starting college that day with his twin Mikolas, they had done everything together since the day they had first started walking; university was to be have been the first time they finally chose different paths. Mikolas had wanted to take over their father’s business and he had wanted to pursue his love of sports and become a sports teacher.

  It had been his brother’s idea to have time away and go climbing after the finish of their exams but that did not remove the guilt he had felt that in some way he was responsible for Mikolas falling and dying. Still reeling from his death it had very quickly become apparent that he would have to step into his brother’s shoes and train to take over their father’s business empire.

  He had not only lost his twin that day but also his own dreams, he had felt adrift in a world that he had no control over and he recollected how those feelings of grief had threatened to drown him each time he had spoken his twins’ name.

  Just as he’d come to the end of all the stands and thought he could finally escape and avoid people till the next day he had turned around and that was when he had seen her.

  Standing framed in the doorway, looking around uncertainly, there he had seen an angel hovering. Then as she had moved gracefully into the room the picture had exploded into life and a kaleidoscope of colours had shimmered and swirled around her. The closer she had moved towards to him the more she had come into focus. As if it was happening all over again he could see her long blond wavy hair cascading softly around her shoulders and that shy uncertain smile that had caressed her lips.

  He remembered that she had drifted past the other students so that she could join the registration queue just beyond him.

  His feet had stood transfixed as she passed him. For a split second her eyes had touched his and as he registered their pale jade colour he had jumped at the jolt of electricity that passed between them. He had felt his heart leap and pound erratically, so hard he had felt it threaten to break him in two. Dropping her eyes she had moved around him gracefully taking her place in the queue; leaving only a tantalising aroma of a perfume that gently soothed his soul. The essence of that smell had wrapped around him pervading all his senses, not cloying or sensual, but fresh, floral, somehow he had discerned the scent of rose, jasmine and an undertone of spicy carnation. Her scent, her eyes, they had bewitched him and he had moved to one side pretending to look at some leaflets so that he could, in reality, continue to stare at her.

  Standing, as he had been, had allowed him to feast his eyes upon her cute little button nose which he saw had wrinkled up as she’d concentrated on what she was doing. Her dress had fascinated him; it had been so different from the outfits most of the other fresher girls had worn. Somehow her scent and her clothes had set her apart from them all, made her mysterious, different, and desirable.

  He remembered how her dress had hugged her slender body before swirling out around her legs, the fabric iridescently dyed so that the colours merged into one another; all the beauty of a rainbow sparkling in a rainy sunny sky. Her arms had been gloriously bare and suntanned and he recalled how he had longed to find out if, under her skirt, her legs were that same glorious colour.

  Having finished her registration she had turned around as if looking for someone and, as their eyes had connected, she had quickly looked down at the floor, appearing confused and embarrassed. He saw again in his mind’s eye the soft blush that had gradually stained her skin.

  The sight of that blush had been his defining moment for it was then he had realised that it was possible for his frozen heart to begin to feel warm again. It was that knowledge which had given him the courage to step forward, across the space, and speak to her.

  “Hi!” he remembered saying, “I’m new here, are you new here too?”

  He knew he had inwardly cringed as he had spoken one of the most obvious, well used chat up lines of all time, but she had neither seemed to notice his lack of repertoire, nor had she laughed at him.

  “I am, very new, in fact I only arrived an hour ago, and to tell you the truth I’m really lucky I’ve arrived at all! My Mum and Dad argued over the map until I took it away from them. If I’d left it up to their map reading skills I believe we’d have been in Scotland by now.”

  She had giggled shyly and he had been immediately captivated by the slight accent that he had heard singing through her voice.

  “Really? I only came from Plumpton; my parents just had to follow the signs. Where did you come from?”

  He had mentally kicked himself for being such an idiot and spouting such boring conversation. Yet it was at the first moment of speaking to her that it became of the utmost importance to him to become the most scintillating conversationalist of all time so that he could bind her to his side forever.

  She had smiled at that inane sentence and he had suddenly felt as if had reached a safe haven, all would be well in his world again.

  “Are you asking me where I travelled from or about my accent? My father is Irish and my mother is Scandinavian and between them they insisted that I could speak both their languages. I suppose I should blame them for the accent it has given me. Does it sound very funny to you?” A trace of embarrassment had flitted across her face.

  “No-no- not at all. It’s beautiful. I mean your accent that is, obviously-not you. No- no-that’s not what I meant either, I didn’t mean that at all. I mean you are very beautifi-”

  His voice had faded as he had realised miserably that that was it, he had just blown it.

  Smiling gently she had laid her hand lightly on his arm and he remembered again the warm tingle of excitement that had shot throughout his being as he realised she was responding to his implied compliment. Once, that was, she had obviously been able to unravel what she thought he had been trying to say; then she’d answered shyly.

  “Thank you, I think.”

  An awkward silence had hung between them, both of them determined not to look too concerned at the emotions they had both become acutely aware of.

  He had broken the silence first, unable to look her in the eye for embarrassment; he had looked at the floor while he’d asked her nervously.

  “There is a coffee shop down the road just off campus, would you... um... I mean would you be interested in going there with me for a coffee or tea or chocolate or anything?”

  Plucking up the courage he’d finally raised his eyes to hers. What he had seen in them amazed him for she’d been looking straight at him as if she was able to delve into his very soul. Even now he could feel the pull of the cool depths that encouraged him to dive deep.

  A glorious smile had spread across her face, and as it did so it had lit up her eyes and crinkled the corners of her mouth. It was then and only then that she had solemnly replied.

  “I think I’d like that very much.”

  That moment he had first taken her hand was etched forever across his heart; he had held her as if she was the most precious thing he had in his whole world.

  He had walked out of the hall ten feet tall for he had just found his anchor, that precious reason for his existence.

  It was her, only her and he knew he would never be alone again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  From that totally inauspicious start they had been absolutely inseparable: sharing lecture notes, cups of
coffee, and their dreams for the future. He had introduced her to Greek literature and taken her to see some of the tragedies on stage; to this day he could still remember the anger and fire of their first argument.

  All over Medea’s actions.

  “You’re wrong! “She had shouted at him in frustration.

  “I’m not!” He’d stormed back at her. “Medea was past wicked; there was no justification for what she did. She killed her children just to spite Jason.”

  With total despair in her eyes she had hissed back at him.

  “But you’re missing the whole point! Jason didn’t want her did he? And he didn’t really want their children. He was going to make himself a new life with a new wife and thought it was okay to keep Medea around as his mistress; then have more children with his new wife and keep them all together. One happy family! For goodness sake what planet did that man spring from? Tell me what else could she do? She had nowhere else to go to and obviously, after what she had done, she could never return to her father.”

  He distinctly remembered trying to reason with her.

  “But she murdered Jason’s new bride and the bride’s father and then she went on to murder her own children by Jason. The children that she had given birth to. If you had been in that same situation you wouldn’t have reacted like that would you? You couldn’t have killed your own children just to spite their father, could you?”

  He’d silently, desperately, willed her to see his point of view and to agree with him.

  She had paused for a second while she’d considered all the different angles of the situation, then she spoke slowly, as if to a child, as she had finally answered him.

  “Well no, okay, obviously I wouldn’t have done that. No I definitely could not have possibly done that, but then that’s me. But you to recognise that Jason betrayed her; not only that but he also betrayed the love that they had shared and therefore he didn’t deserve to have anything more to do with his children. So if it had been I and I had been in that situation then I would have packed us all up and we would have disappeared without a trace. He would never have seen us again and I’d have not only protected them from his betrayal but I’m very sure that I would also have taught them what a bloody awful louse he was.”