I finish my cognac in a single swallow. Around us, men laugh, gamble, and plot as they always have. Many of them would take a mistress without hesitation. I’m not one of them. Neither is Philippe. Which is why we’re both divorced.
“I don’t know if I can stomach such subterfuge. She deserves better than to be hidden.”
Philippe swirls his cognac. “How do you feel about her,vraiment?*?”
I lean back, the leather creaking behind my shoulders. It is a dangerous question as it’s perilous to even form an answer. But I find myself saying the truth I’ve been feeling. “I’ve never been this drawn to a woman. Not in years. Perhapsnot ever.”
Philippe’s brows arched, but his smile was wry. “Alors?*…that is not nothing, Gustave.”
“And I have to worry about Simone. How will she react? She’ll crush her…try to, at least.”
“You can protect her,” Philippe points out.
I shake my head. “All this for a short affair? She leaves in a few months. Goes back to America. This is not a relationship.”
“Maybe a quiet affair, then? Keep her close without raising Simone’s claws.”
“I…it feels wrong.”
“You can’t go on staying single and only fucking women when you’re out of Paris. You deserve to enjoy a woman’s company without fearing Simone’s reaction. Or the paparazzi’s.”
He has a point, but he didn’t have to deal with Aubert being chased around Paris. My son had been frightened out of his mind. Confused that the world had turned against him, all because his parents decided to divorce. It would be another circus—and a pointless one, when Tara was going to be just some sex and fun…nothing more.
“I have to think about Aubert.”
Philippe groans. “I have it on good authority that Aubert would be happy for you. He thinks you brood too much. He is his mother’s son in profile, butin spirit—he isyou. He wants you happy.” He takes another sip of his drink, his eyes softening. “You are fortunate.”
I know what he means. Philippe's ex-wife married within a year of the divorce, and his children, who were never close to their parents, are now even more distant. Philippe feels that he is only their banker, not a father.
I glance at him. “But how do I know that Tara makes me happy?”
“Your eyes light up every time you talk about her.”
“I barely know her.”
“And you will continue not to know her if you don’t spend time with her. Take the opportunity, Gustave. You have every right to be happy.” He shakes his head, bitter amusement tugging at his mouth. “You know the problem with our world is that marriage is a job. We take the wife who suits the family, we play the husband in public, and when it’s done, there’s nothing left but emptiness.”
I knew this as well as he did. “Do you know of any marriages that are happy?”
He thinks about it and then sighs. “I thought Sabine for sure…but then we find out that her husband is screwing around on her.”
Sabine, my sister, appeared to have a good marriage…appearedbeing the operative word. She lives in Geneva with her husband, a banker, whom we recently discovered has a mistress, a French opera singer, whom he’s tucked away in Vienna.
My mother holds up Sabine as the example of a good wife. “See, she stays married while you shirked your responsibilities.”
Sabine’s husband all but bought her every jewel ever made by Cartier tomake it upto her when the affair was revealed by the opera singer, who was hoping to cause trouble and become the wife.
Sabine took the baubles and forgave her husband. They have two children, grown, living their own lives, and yet, Sabine feels she has to keep up appearances.
I see them once or twice a year, when duty demands. We are cordial but not close.
She didn’t approve of my divorce, either.
“She’s wearing a brand-new Chopard necklace, according to Maman…so maybe he’s found a new mistress.” I raise my empty glass and nod at a server whose job is to keep an eye on the patron he’s assigned, ensuring they have what they need as soon as they need it. “I hope that Aubert is not bound to this world of titles, money, and appearances. I don’t want that for him.”
Philippe’s gaze lingers on me. “You mean you with Simonestillon your arm, and me with girls half my age.” His laugh is humorless. “I chase beauty because I never found love.”
Love! What a quaint word.
