Juliette rolled her lips, bracing herself for the fight she was about to start. “And what about Brock?”
“What about him?” Gigi’s expression was schooled and neutral, devoid of all emotion.
“You ruined us, Mama.” Accusation lit her tone with a fire she couldn’t control. It burned through her, hot and fast, and the smoke of her anger lingered, suffocating her. “I know all about how you made him stay away from me, how you wanted him to leave for boot camp and cut all ties. You told him he wasn’t good enough for me, and hebelievedyou.” She hoped her words scalded Gigi, but instead, her mother looked tired.
She sighed, tilting her head to one side.
“Let me tell you a story.” Gigi’s hands gripped the edge of the counter, and her shoulders sank in defeat. “I knew Brockton’s mother. She was a friend of mine, once upon a time.”
The fury faded as quickly as it came, and Juliette was filled with a kind of sudden numbness.
“What?” The word fell from her lips on a gasp.
“I went to school with Stella. We knew each other for years. Right about the time everything was going perfectly in my life, everything started to go wrong with hers. We went up to Maryland to see her once, your father and I. This was after Aidan had gained custody of Brockton. He was only a year old then, and I was pregnant with you.” She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, her gaze was distant, like she was visiting somewhere Juliette wasn’t allowed to visit. “Grandmama offered to keep Gabrielle for us since it was only a quick weekend getaway.”
Gigi dropped onto one of the green velvet barstools, her age more prominent than Juliette had ever seen it. Heavy lines fanned out from the corners of her eyes. Wrinkles crinkled across her forehead. She rubbed her temples with her thumb and middle finger, the large rings she wore twinkling like stars.
“I had morning sickness before with Gabrielle, but with you it was all day. I was constantly ill. Most of the time, I don’t even know how I functioned properly.” Gigi waved one hand through the air like an afterthought. “So, I went to sleep early one evening while we were staying with Stella since I couldn’t seem to kick the nausea.”
Juliette’s stomach twisted into an acidic knot of dread. Somehow, she knew what was coming, she already knew what her mother was going to say.
“I woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible cramp in my calf. Not enough potassium, I imagine, but that’s neither here nor there. And when I looked over, the other side of the bed was empty.” She pursed her lips, a tiny scowl marring her brow as she continued with her story. “I was used to your fatherstaying up later than me, so I went looking for him, and I found him. Or rather, I heard him. In Stella’s bedroom.”
“Mama.” Juliette clutched her chest. She knew that kind of agony, that pure and cruel torture. In fact, she remembered it all too well. Because it was still fresh in her mind.
Gigi lifted one hand. “Please, let me finish.”
Juliette swallowed down the rise of bile, blinked back the sudden threat of tears.
“The years went on, each one taking your father further away from me for longer periods of time.” Resignation haunted Gigi’s expression. Even after Papa’s blatant adultery, she’d stayed with him. “You and your sisters were born, but your father’s affairs continued, and all of them grew less and less discreet.”
Juliette swiped at the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her mother must have been mortified. The sting of humiliation would be unbearable. Catching Rodrigo in the act had been bad enough, but Gigi dealt with such embarrassment for years, turning a blind eye to his disloyalty. It must have killed her. “I’m so sorry, Mama. I had no idea.”
“How could you have? You were but a child.” Gigi smoothed back her perfectly coiffed hair, regaining her momentary lapse in composure. “We were officially separated right before the accident.”
Juliette tried to piece together the broken segments of her past. “Why did you stay with him for so long?”
Gigi’s slim shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. “I loved him. Foolishly so. But I did, and it was my burden to bear.”
Juliette sank into one of the velvet chairs next to her mother. “And Brock?”
“What I asked of him was selfish and unfair,” she admitted, her voice hollow. “And what I said to him is unforgivable. But he was joining the military, and the two of you were madly in love. I knew, I just knew eventually…you…well, you would?—”
“Leave,” Juliette finished for her.
“Yes.” Gigi hung her head, and from that angle, her classic looks seemed fatigued and drawn. “I had already lost your father. I lost Gabrielle to Jeremiah. I only wanted to keep you a little longer.”
“Oh, Mama.” Juliette’s heart broke a little.
“No apology will ever be enough for what I did. I want you to be happy, but more than anything, I do not want to lose you again. I know I’m a stubborn old woman who is set in her ways.” Gigi reached out her hand, and slowly her fingers curled around Juliette’s. “But can you forgive me?”
Juliette threw herself into her mother’s arms. She smelled of fresh florals, expensive perfume, and faintly of cigarettes. Gigi squeezed her tightly, sniffed once, then pulled away. She dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, being careful not to disturb the thick layers of mascara on her lashes.
“Je t’aime, ma petite fleur.” Gigi cupped her cheek with one hand. “And I am so proud of you. For believing in yourself, for following your own path, for finding your own way. Always.”
Juliette could forgive her mother, and maybe forgetting would come with time.
“I love you too, Mama.” She pulled back. “But I have news.”
