Throughout our marriage, I begged you to start a family with me. I deeply regret not pushing you to understand why you feared being a mother, but the one time I did, you left for two days, and I didn’t want to risk you doing that again. On our fifteenth anniversary, when you claimed you wanted children but weren’t ready, I realized youneverwould be ready. After that conversation I tried with all my heart to give up my desire to have a child, because I loved you and our marriage, and I knew if I pushed you, our marriage would be altered and might have ended.
I couldn’t imagine my life without you, so I struggled to let go of my dream. Soon after that I met Sophie who desired a child. I thought that because you never wanted to accompany me to France, you’d never know if I enabled Sophie to live her dream. I would never cheat on you, and so I donated sperm to Sophie through a clinic in Colmar.
I should have discussed my donation to Sophie with you, but I could not have borne it if you had told me not to do it.
I never imagined that I could love anyone as much as I love you. But the first glimpse of Luca was a coup de foudre. I love him with all my heart, as I do you. And I cannot imagine losing either of you.
After I met him, I should have told you about Luca, but I could not have borne it if you forced me to choose between you or if you stopped loving me.
My choice allowed me to continue loving you and loving my child.
Words cannot adequately convey my apology for hurting you, Claire. But I do ask for forgiveness.
When I weighed the risks of telling you about Luca, terror shook me. Oddly, at that moment my compassion for you grew. I tried so many times to talk to you about your apprehension that I believe stemmed from your mother and imprisoned your life. And it wasn’t until the thought of losing you and Luca struck me with horror that I understood the depth of your trepidation.
I hope you will one day have the courage to confront and unentangle yourself from that fright. I wish I could have helped you slay that dragon.
But who am I to talk? I don’t have the courage to write a will, for doing so would reveal my son. Being a coward, I left discovering Luca in your hands. That is why I always carried his photo in my favorite jacket, in the hope that should something happen to me, you would seek him out on your own—if you wanted to.
I am sorry I hurt and betrayed you.
But I’m not sorry I have helped bring a vibrant, intelligent, and beautiful boy into this world. I hope his love warms your life as it has warmed mine. I hope you have fallen in love with Luca. I hope you will learn what a wonderful mother you could have been.
I hope in time you can forgive me and accept Luca as my last gift to you.
Your adoring husband,
David
She wiped tears, refolded the letter, and stuffed it in the envelope.
“You left discovering Luca in my hands?” Anger pulsed up her arms, and she threw the letter across the room. “Well, you could have left a few more clues.”
Marti’s words rang in her mind,David was always protective of you. I am sure he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to hurt you.
“Wrong! He protected himself. Even he admits he was a coward.” She grabbed her phone and stabbed Marti’s number. The call went to voicemail. “Call me. I’ve solved the mystery of why my husband didn’t leave a will.”
She ended the call and tossed her phone on the bed. She didn’t need Marti to help her figure out how she felt. She was angry, rightfully so. It was good David was dead because if he wasn’t she’d murder him.
She dug out the photo of David she’d placed in a drawer and shoved it in her empty suitcase.
Scenes from her marriage whirled around in her mind, dizzying her. She flopped onto the bed and watched her interactions with David in a brighter light with darker shadows. Marti would say processing this would take a while. She rolled up her sleeves. She was ready to dig in.
But first, she was going to celebrate Christmas with a child she loved…and a man she was falling in love with.
Chapter 29
AjazzyChristmascarolplayed on the radio in the château kitchen, which was larger than the salon. Even Sister Georgette’s kitchen was a quarter of the size of this. A stove with eight, double-ringed burners shone in the bright morning light. A table for twenty sat near the wall of windows overlooking the vineyard.
Sister Georgette had allowed Claire to photograph her cookie recipe, so all Claire had to do was find the ingredients. Unable to find a mixer, she was up to her elbows in batter when Remy loped through the door toward her. This time she sat on the floor before he could knock her over and let him lick her hands and wooden spoon.
Gilbert walked into the kitchen and shouted, “Remy!” The dog bit the spoon, pulled it from her hand, and scampered to his bed in the corner, where his tongue chased every morsel of dough.
Claire laughed. “It’s all right. I’m getting used to him.”
Luca arrived carrying a bundle of packages. “Remy!” The child fell to the floor in giggles.
Gilbert helped Claire to her feet and handed her a bar of soap.
