Page 50 of The Actor and His Secret

All the books I’d had an attendant from the private jet company buy him from the airport bookstore in London as I made him hide out before our flight - basically the entire romance section. It was the least I could do. Hell, I’d buy him the entire store if it meant making up for treating him the way I am.

It takes us five minutes to walk up to the house. I check my phone for signal and see it is completely without. I smile for the first time since landing in Greece.

No calls, no messages, no father, no threats.

I don’t need to worry if the key to the house was where I asked the estate agent to leave it. Even though it had been six years since I bought the property, there’s an element of community and trust in Greece. And, to prove me right, the key - although slightly rusted from time - is right where I’d expected it to be, in the chipped pot beside the front door.

It takes a few tries to get inside, the door sticking from the humidity. Oli waits for me to enter first, giving me a moment. He doesn’t know the importance of the house yet, but he can clearly read my silence for what it is. Oli knows me better than I know myself, it would seem.

I’m hit by the smell. Oregano and sea salt. I stand in the foyer, eyes closed and inhaling deeply. If I listen carefully, I can hear the gentle lull of waves in the distance. But if I pretend, really put myself back in time, I can almost hear my mother tinkering in the kitchen. Her soft humming as she cooked kleftiko or hung our laundry up on the exposed balcony on the second floor.

I almost break down, right then and there.

Until a presence steps into my side, a soft hand resting on my lower back. ‘Are you ok?’

I open my eyes, facing the dark and empty house I once called a home. ‘I will be.’

‘This place… it’s special to you. Isn’t it?’

I nod, doing everything in my power not to look in the direction of the staircase. The memories I have of that location are far from kind. Even though I know the floor had been cleaned of blood, and the bottom step scrubbed of my mother’s brain matter, I can still picture the scene as plain as day.

‘This is my…was my home. Where I grew up.’

Arms wrap around my back. Oli leans his face into my spine and exhales. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

I can’t reply. The air is too warm, the memories far too overbearing. Why I even thought this was a good idea is beyond me. In a moment of panic for my career, I’d somehow decided I’d rather face my own living hell than possibly be seen with Oli.

As if that would be such a bad thing.

I tug at my collar, trying to get some air beneath my stuffy clothes. ‘Do you want to go for a swim?’

Oli’s caught off guard. ‘It’s like, one in the morning. At least London time.’

‘Perfect time for it, then.’

I turn until I face him. I take his cheeks in my hands and bring his face to mine. Our mouths touch for the briefest of moments, enough that the horrible memories are forced to the back of my mind.

‘But my trunks are at the bottom of my suitcase.’

I pat his arse. ‘Where we’re going, you don’t need to wear anything.’

He grins crookedly. ‘This was your plan all along, wasn’t it, Adonis?’

I gift him another kiss, this one breathy and full of need and desperation. ‘It was.’

We leave our suitcases in the foyer. With Oli’s hand in mine, I guide him out the corridor, towards the back of the house where the small garden - once pruned and well-manicured - is now overgrown. A rickety gate leads to a stone path that takes us down the side of a cliff face. It’s so dark I can’t see where I’m going, so we take it slow, and I give into my muscle memory to guide me from step to step.

The ocean glows like a blanket of pure obsidian. The moon hangs in a cloudless sky, reflecting off the calm waters below us. Oli’s giggles soon become hearty laughs as we reach the sandy bed of the shoreline and begin stripping off. With each piece of clothing, I feel like I’m taking off a part of myself - the illusion of Nikos Ridge that I’d worked all my life to build up.

Completely naked, the waves lapping over my toes, Oli by my side, I feel free. Weightless. The water is warm, but I still shiver from anticipation.

‘Ready?’ I ask, looking at Oli. His features are hard to see in the dark, but I adore how the moonlight graces the planes of his face. Even clearly tired from the traveling, there’s energy in his stare that lights a pyre inside of me.

‘If a giant octopus comes and drags me into the depths, I expect you to come and save me.’

‘Just as Perseus slayed the kraken,’ I reply, ready to completely submerge myself in the waters, allowing it to wash away my worries. ‘I’ll never let anything happen to you.’

His smile falters, and I fear I ruined the moment. But Oli faces the ocean before I can ask what is wrong.

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