Page 30 of Hold Me Today

If sitting in Algebra and English felt like punishment most days growing up, then trying to learn a new language felt damn near impossible. The number of hours I sat holed up in my bedroom, trying to memorize what letter matched to which sound was . . . my stomach sinks with the memory—the utter hopelessness I’d felt knowing I was a complete disappointment, somehowlessGreek than my peers because the language remained a barrier I could never quite cross. Katya and Dimitri picked it up easily—born-naturals, I guess—and that felt like more salt in the wound.

Forget about the drastic age gap, marrying a man like Stavros would have been misery personified on the most basic, fundamental levels of communication. I shudder at the thought. “Your grandmother would be a better match for him.”

“Oh my God, I know, right?” Effie’s grin deepens. “But let’s get real, she’s putting all the weight on Nick’s shoulders. She’s convinced he’s her last hope for grandchildren.”

“Is she still working under the crazy assumption that you and Sarah can’t have kids?”

She rolls her eyes. “Interventions. We’ve literally sat down with hermultipletimes to tell her that yes, she will be getting a grandkid from us, but she’s so old school—”

“It’s the village in her speaking,” I cut in, wanting to soothe my best friend’s annoyance. “Not that it’s an excuse, but hey, the woman still thinks your dad should have gone to school for business instead of opening a pizza joint, and he opened House of Stamos, what? Like twenty years ago? And, I mean, sheactuallythought Nick was entering an arranged marriage. Nick of all people—actually, no, I can see it.” I tap my nose. “So orderly, so easy. How has this not happened already?”

That pulls Effie out of her funk. She laughs so hard that when the server comes around with our meat lovers’ pizza, she nearly tips over her wineglass. “Forget that, how about the fact that my mom is having ‘family’ dinner this weekend all so she can introduce my big brother to yet another girl.”

The cheese sticks to my molars as I swallow hastily. “Oh?”

“Yup.” Effie plucks a piece of sausage off her pizza and pops it into her mouth, chewing. “How’s that fake relationship working out for you two? Can you bust him out of family dinner? Also, I just want to point out how crazy clichéfake dating is. What? Are you practicing for a role in a Hallmark movie or something?”

I can’t manage to withhold a snort. “Hey, don’t look at me. It was all your brother’s thinking.”

“Figures. If it was up to me—”

“If it was up to you, I’d be married to your brother because you don’t do anything in half measures. Why stop at dating when you could complete the cliché circle and get me to exchange rings?”

She points her pizza crust at me. “I’ve got your best interests at heart.”

“My best interests oryours?”

“Well, mine, obviously. I’ve always wanted a sister. Nick doesn’t cut it. Too hairy.”

And, because Effie and I have known each other since before even puberty, I point at my freshly waxed upper lip. “We’realltoo hairy. It’s the Greek blood.”

“Mediterranean,” she corrects, “the Italians and Lebanese are in the same boat as us.”

I scratch my chin, pretending to think hard. “New idea. I’m bringing in an esthetician into the salon—it’s a surefire way to guarantee I’ll never go out of business.”

Effie and I break out into laughter, and it’s not until we’re settling the bill and leaving the restaurant that she grabs my hand. When I meet her gaze, she squeezes my fingers. “You know I love you, right?”

I tilt my head to the side. “I mean, there were a few times over the years when I wasn’t too sure—”

“Mina.”

The joke dies on my tongue. “Yeah, Effie,” I say, “I know. You’re my best friend.”

“Then, as your best friend, just hear me out.” When I say nothing, she releases me and twines her fingers through her scarf. “I know you used to like Nick, but I . . .” Her dark eyes search my face. “I love you both, and youknowI want to see you happy, but I don’t think he’s that guy for you. He’s not theone.”

My shoulders stiffen at her earnestness. Little pinpricks latch onto my heart, and I mentally pluck them off, one by one, until they’re all figuratively gone. This is Effie, and I know she doesn’t mean to upset me. “I’m not looking for the ‘one.’” I throw up bunny quotes just to emphasize my point. “I’m focused onAgape, andonlyonAgape.”

She doesn’t look like she believes a word I’m saying. “I know you secretly love those romance audiobooks you listen to all day, but Nick’s not one of your book boyfriends. He annoys you and you annoy him, and the two of you are just—”

“Opposites.”

“Yes!” She snaps her fingers. “Total opposites. And that’s not a bad thing, but you don’t want to get married or have kids—you’ve always said so—and Nick . . . it’s all he wants. All he’severwanted. I love you both, but you’ve never once wavered with your opinion on marriage. It’s not just that you two are opposites, it’s that you have different dreams in life.”

Marriage. Kids.

Even Effie doesn’t know all the reasons why I’ve avoided the possibility of a quintessential familial unit, and the reasons extend far beyond my hair salon. Husband. Babies. A dog—although I wouldn’t mind this one so much. It’d be nice not to feel so alone all the time. Yes, openingAgapeis my sole focus, but I can multi-task with the best of them. If I want to date a guyandrun a business, I know that I could—easily. When I want something, I make it work, no matter what.

But aside from youthful infatuations and uncomplicated flings, I’ve never craved anything more. Never craved longevity. Probably because my own parents have shown me that longevity doesn’t always equate to trust, to true love, to loyalty. Growing up in the Pappas household taught me one lesson that I’ve never forgotten: love comes with conditions. And I’ve never been the sort of person to let anyone hold power over me, especially not a man. Hell, the only men I’ve truly trusted are George Pappas, Effie’s dad, and my uncle on my father’s side, who we visited in Greece each summer before he passed away.

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