I gestured to the small stone house behind me. I found all three here in a place you’d dismiss as primitive and backward. This isn’t you, he insisted, desperation edging into his voice. The Alexis I know wouldn’t choose manual labor and poverty over comfort and position. I smiled, recognizing the fundamental truth in his statement.
You’re right. The Alexis you knew wouldn’t have. But that woman died in Italy when her husband abandoned her as a joke. The woman standing before you made different choices. Elena approached then, pressing something into my hand, the partnership agreement we’d signed. Though she couldn’t follow our words, she’d sense the moment had come.
I unfolded the document and held it toward Gabriel. I have legal ties here now, a business partnership, responsibilities to people who value me for my contributions, not my appearance or social connections. His face flushed with anger. This is ridiculous. Whatever game you’re playing, it’s not a game, I said, reaching into my pocket for the envelope Katarina had prepared.
These are divorce papers, Gabriel already filed with provisions for division of assets. He stared at the envelope as if it might burn him. You can’t be serious. You’d throw away everything for this. He gestured dismissively at the modest farm. I’m not throwing away anything. I’m choosing something better, something real.
I stepped forward, placing the envelope in his rigid hand. You left me, Gabriel. You drove away laughing. You just never expected I’d find my way without you. His fingers closed reflexively around the papers, his expression cycling through shock, anger, and finally wounded pride. You’ll regret this, he said, but the threat sounded hollow even to his own ears.
When the novelty wears off and you’re still hauling olives in the hot sun at 60, you’ll remember what you gave up. Maybe, I conceded, but I’d rather risk regret from choices I made than live with the certainty of regret from choices made for me. Nikico stepped forward then, placing a weathered hand on my shoulder. Though he couldn’t understand our exchange, he recognized the conclusion in our body language.
He said something in Greek to Gabriel, his tone firm but not unkind. What did he say? Gabriel asked, his voice smaller now. He said, “The road back to Athens is dangerous after dark. You should leave now to reach the city before nightfall. Gabriel looked between us, finally registering that this wasn’t a negotiation or a rescue. It was a goodbye.
Without another word, he returned to his rental car. The divorce papers clutched in his hand. As the vehicle disappeared down the dirt road, Elena slipped her hand into mine. Together, the three of us turned toward the house. My house now, too. The evening’s work awaited. Oil samples to catalog. dinner to prepare tomorrow’s market inventory to check.
My husband had once abandoned me in a foreign country, assuming I’d be helpless without him, assuming I’d come crawling back once I’d learned my lesson. Instead, I’d found fertile ground to plant new roots, stronger and deeper than he could have imagined. Sometimes the crulest actions yield the greatest gifts.
In trying to break me, Gabriel had accidentally set me.
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