“I did not. I mean, that Christmas I suspected she was unwell, but everyone at school had the flu. I did ask her, but she said she was fine.”
“I didn’t notice anything.”
“How could you? You were putting in an insane amount of work hours and after-hour client holiday functions for Pemberley and working on your jury show submissions, all the while trying to have a relationship. It was a lot to juggle at once.”
Finally, he turned his head to look at her. “Then what was my excuse after you left, and after the submissions, and when the holidays were over?”
“Life, William. Don’t beat yourself up. Anne was very private and clearly wanted to hide the cancer from her lovedones—and she did it well. It wasn’t your fault. It was her decision.”
“No. That’s not good enough. After you left, I became a self-absorbed, pitiful drunk for three and a half months. And by then, my mother was stage four, and I was a barely recovered alcoholic working micromanaged ninety-hour weeks to appease my father. Six months later, she went into hospice.”
She got up from the chaise and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. His eyes brimmed with unusual tears, prompting her tears to surface. How could she possibly help him heal a wound he’d been carrying for so long? What could she say?
“I’m still angry with her for not telling me. We shared everything.” He choked back a sob, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
Placing her hand on his cheek she softly soothed him. “Babe, we may have treated her differently had we known, and she didn’t want that. There was nothing you could have done more than what you did by loving her fully, every day, and sharing every aspect of your life. She was so proud of you. That’s how she wanted to leave this world.” She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “She’s still with you, my love.”
William pulled her up to him and held her tightly.
“Her last words were about you and me. She wanted me to follow you to Paris. It shouldn’t have taken as long as it did.”
She kissed his chin. “Sometimes we just get in the way of ourselves and can’t move on from trauma as quickly as we expect. I’m sure she’s grinning from heaven.”
“Yeah, she is.” Closing his eyes again, he said, “Losing Mom after losing you destroyed me. Apart from you, she was the only one who knew me, the real me, and genuinely loved me for me.”
“There is so much to love.”
“She knew you would see what I kept hidden inside.” He raised her chin and held her gaze in his. “Now I understand why she was so eager for us to date. She must have known about the cancer when she introduced us. That day, she was plugging for grandchildren.”
Softly smiling she admitted, “She once told me not to wait too long, that children were amazing gifts, and that our children would be very special.”
“Mom loved you like a daughter.”
“And I loved her like the mother I never had.”
That singular moment of sharing their vulnerabilities told her that they were still soul-bonded. He had shared his innermost emotions, something so precious and rare. There was still so much to discuss about Anne and his drinking, but she didn’t press, and he didn’t offer. They just held each other’s silent confidence and shared grief within their tight embrace.
Much like they had been when they were dating before, they emotionally connected on a level way beyond physical intimacy. With the sun streaming down upon them, they had made love twice, later contentedly falling asleep wrapped around the other. Where a hole had once dwelled, her soul had filled with joy at their reunion, but two elephants in the room weighed down her thoughts: Carrie and Jane.
At about one in the morning, she slipped out of bed and donned her robe. Her heart leapt, gazing down at him fast asleep. Drawn to the moonlight on the terrace, she lay on the chaise, captivated by the Eiffel’s dazzling lights in the distance. Despite words of mutual love and erotic acts, she had yet to hear William say anything about calling offhiswedding, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
“Hey, there,” William softly said from the open door.
“Hi. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Come back to bed?”
“Soon. It’s such a beautiful night.”
“Can I join you?”
“I would think you’re sick of me by now.”
“Not in the least.” He softly smiled, then walked onto the terrace, wearing boxer shorts. With a wave of his hand, he indicated for her to move down the chaise so he could sit behind her with her back leaning against his chest.
In silence, they watched the lights’ ten-minute dance on the Iron Lady, his hand slipping beneath her silken robe. Absentmindedly, he caressed her breast.
“Stay with me a few more days, Lizzy.”
