Chapter 13 #2
“Confused, sad. I’ve screwed everything up.
” He was in a dark mood, despite the joyous occasion.
“Leila and I are trying to break up. The relationship isn’t working for her either,” he paused and then looked at his wife.
She looked beautiful in white, and almost like a bride herself.
She had been a spectacular bride when they married in New York.
“I want to come back, Isabelle. I’ve learned my lesson.
You and the children mean everything to me.
” Now that Leila wanted out. Their affair had gone on for a year and destroyed Ian and Isabelle’s marriage, and shown Ian to be weak, dishonorable, and foolish.
“I’m not exciting enough for you,” she said.
“I don’t have a career or a talent, I’m just a wife and a mom.
It’s what I love. It wasn’t enough for you, or Leila wouldn’t have happened.
I think you’re looking for sparkle and glamour, and everything I’m not.
I’ve finally realized that Leila, or someone like her, is more your style. But now isn’t the time to discuss it.”
“I want to come home. Leila wants to take over the apartment, and I don’t want to get some other sterile furnished apartment,” he said, as Isabelle looked at him, seeing him clearly now. He was devilishly handsome and pathetic, but his looks weren’t enough to justify his selfishness.
“That’s not a reason to come home, because you’re homeless and like my decorating.
You’ve stayed with Leila a year, trying to figure it out.
If we were right for each other, you would have come home a long time ago.
You’ve squeezed that lemon until you’ve had every drop of juice out of it, and now you want to come back, until you find someone else more exciting and do it again.
I’ve learned a lot in these months. I deserved a lot better than what you gave me for almost a year now while you had fun with Leila.
Your parents told you in the beginning that I wasn’t good enough.
And you believed them. You can’t come back, Ian.
I’m done. I want a divorce. Or more exactly, I don’t want one and I never did.
I loved you, truly. But now I need a divorce, so I can have a life, by myself, or maybe with someone who appreciates me.
You don’t. I guess you never did.” She said it all in a flat, even tone, and when she had said it, she got up and walked away.
He didn’t argue with her, or tell her she was wrong.
He watched her go, then quietly slipped away, found his car in front of the house, and drove away.
One of the caterers saw him leave and discreetly removed his place at the table.
Isabelle saw it, and she was sad, but what she had said was true.
Whatever he did with Leila now, it was over for her.
He had kept her waiting and broken her heart for too long.
She was better off without him and she knew it.
He wasn’t good enough for her, didn’t treat her well, and hadn’t respected her.
The wedding guests kept the party going until after two in the morning.
They danced and had fun, and finally let the band go at two.
Even Charlotte’s kids had had fun, and she and Andy sat quietly at the end of the evening, enjoying the warm atmosphere.
Spencer had gone back to his house at one.
His heart was full of memories of Felicia but he’d had a good time.
He had danced with all the sisters and enjoyed talking to them.
It was a beautiful evening, and before anyone left, Olivia had turned her back to them in her chair and tossed the bouquet over her shoulder behind her.
It whizzed past Quinne, who moved aside and dodged it, and Charlotte took a step back—she’d already been married once—and it hit Veronica squarely on the chest and she caught it as everyone clapped, and she and Scott looked at each other and laughed.
He kissed her while she was still holding the bouquet.
“You’re next,” Quinne said with a grin, as she walked past them to Cooper at the bar. She still didn’t feel ready for marriage. Veronica wasn’t sure she did either, but she and Scott had been happy together so far, and he spent many nights at her apartment.
Charlotte had asked Isabelle how things were with Ian. She had seen that he left before dinner, after he and Isabelle talked.
“I told him I’m done. He and Leila are thinking of breaking up, so he wants to come home. I can’t. I want a divorce.”
“Are you sure?” Charlotte asked her.
“Very. He’s been with her for a year. If it took him this long to figure it out, and only because it’s not working for them, I don’t want him back. I want out. I deserve better than that,” she said, and Charlotte nodded. Isabelle seemed sure now.
“Yes, you do. I’m just sorry for you and the kids.”
“They’re fine, and I will be too. I’m feeling better. Game over,” she said, and Charlotte hugged her and went to find Andy for a last dance.
—
By three a.m., the house was silent and everyone was asleep.
They all had brunch in the dining room the next morning at eleven, and at noon, Francois and Olivia drove away to start their new life together.
They stayed at her apartment in the city that night, and at eight o’clock the next morning, they went to Olivia’s doctor for their appointment. They were both excited and hopeful, and Francois reminded her that if it didn’t work, they would keep trying for as long as Olivia wanted.
They did an internal sonogram to confirm that she was ovulating. She had been testing and taking her temperature all week, and the test had been accurate.
Francois was going to go into a private exam room to provide the sperm sample.
The room was small and depressing, with dog-eared girly and porn magazines.
There was even a video if he wanted it. Olivia asked him to stay with her, and laughing and nervous and feeling self-conscious but very much in love, she assisted with the sperm sample.
A nurse took it from them, and the doctor returned to inject it directly into Olivia’s uterus.
The procedure wasn’t normally painful, but she felt nothing at all.
They suggested she lie down for half an hour afterward, and they left the office two hours after they had arrived, possibly with a baby on the way.
They wouldn’t know for two weeks. They’d still be on their honeymoon then, and Olivia had bought two pregnancy tests to check.
She still didn’t know where they were going on their honeymoon. Francois had kept it a secret. He had told her to bring casual summer clothes and a few silk shirts and gauzy dresses for the evening.
They picked up their bags at her apartment after the medical appointment, and a limo he had ordered arrived on time and took them to the airport.
Francois put a hand over her eyes when they got to the gate so Olivia couldn’t see their destination, and a steward announced on the flight that they were going to Saint Martin.
“We’re going to Saint Martin?” She looked excited, and they accepted champagne.
It had been a busy morning. Olivia dozed on the flight, after the excitement of the wedding two days before and the doctor visit that morning.
Two handsome young men in white naval uniforms were waiting for them when they landed and whisked them to the port, where Francois led her to an enormous white yacht.
He carried her onboard, a deckhand set up her wheelchair, Francois gently lowered her into it, and she rolled herself around the deck to check out the boat.
It was the most beautiful yacht she’d ever seen.
“Are we on it for the night?” she asked him, and he kissed her. The yacht was called The True Love.
“The True Love is ours for three weeks. We can go wherever you want, eat what you want, do what you want. If you get bored with me, there is even a movie theater. The minute I saw the name on the brochure I knew we had to have it for our honeymoon.” Olivia was staring at Francois in amazement, and he sat down next to her and put his arm around her as the crew fired up the engines, removed the ropes that moored them to the dock, and took off for the Caribbean seas, where they were going to spend their honeymoon.
—
The first test that Olivia took two weeks later showed negative, and Francois thought she had done it too soon.
She was disappointed by the negative result but they were having a fabulous honeymoon.
And on the last two days of the trip, five days later, she tested again, and got a positive result this time.
Two clearly pink lines that said she was pregnant, and at dinner that night she told Francois.
They had just spent the most incredible three weeks of their lives on the most elegant yacht, and now Olivia’s dream was coming true, she and Francois were having a baby.
There were moments in life when everything came together and was perfect, and this was one of them.
He kissed her and for a moment he didn’t know what to say.
He had mourned her for twelve years after the accident and thought he had lost her forever.
And now they had a whole life together to look forward to.
They watched the sun set over the water that night, and they both knew that this was a day and a time in their lives that they would never forget. Their True Love had set sail on their wedding day, and long before that. Francois kissed her, and they smiled at each other.
“Thank you for the perfect honeymoon,” she whispered to him. It was more than that, it was a perfect life together.