Chapter 24
Dimi was caught between dread and longing—the sense that something momentous was about to happen, something that might not be entirely good and yet something he couldn’t, wouldn’t stop. The pressure was crushing. For years, his had been a face and a name that others vaguely knew. Now everywhere he went people seemed to recognize him, to want to catch his eye, smile, engage, acknowledge, and be acknowledged. So, he smiled back, waved, and, for the most part, kept moving.
Only on his daily runs in Central Park, communing with nature alone, did he feel truly free. But even there not entirely. There were so many pretty young men—James’ New York cousins, no doubt, he thought with a grin—who seemed to beckon. I have made my choice, Dimi thought, smiling as he ran on. But did it have
