CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
Manhattan, a week later
F AYE WASN ’ T SURE what day it was. Time had become something elastic...hard to fathom. When she’d emerged from that little house in the forest with her bag, Sadie had been waiting for her. Primo and Quin and the children had gone to some other place. Because they were family and they belonged together.
She was the outlier. Not welcome.
Somehow, Faye had kept it together.
Sadie had taken her to the airport and put her on a plane. She’d hugged her and said, ‘I really hope this isn’t it, Faye.’
But it was. Faye had always known, from the moment that the spark between her and Primo had got stronger, that she was playing with fire by not telling him the full truth of her past.
If only the marriage had been one of two moving parts, orbiting around each other but never really meeting...
‘Faye...?’
She looked up and saw Mark, her assistant, looking a little worried. ‘Um...someone is here to see you.’
In her little office? Hardly anyone came here. She always went out to meet people. It was a perfectly serviceable office, but it wasn’t all that interesting or sexy. It was in a building full of offices on the upper east side. Her window overlooked a tiny corner of Central Park that could just be spotted between two blocks.
‘Who is it?’
She tried to make her sluggish brain work. Was there something she’d missed in her diary?
‘It’s Primo...your husband.’
For a second Faye’s hearing and senses went. She felt as if she was under water, with everything muffled and sounding distorted. Mark was frowning, coming towards her. She waved her hands, sucked in breath. Came up for air.
She could do this. He was probably just here to discuss the divorce... But surely he could have done that through his lawyers?
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Send him in.’
Because, pathetically, even when she knew he must despise her, Faye wanted to just look at him. Breathe the same air.
Mark went out and a few seconds later Primo appeared, sucking all the air and light out of the room. Faye would have stood up, but her legs felt like jelly.
He was holding something wrapped in brown paper and he put it down against a wall. He was dressed in a three-piece suit. He looked... She frowned. He looked tired. A little of his golden aura slightly dimmed. She blinked. No, he was still gorgeous. She was imagining things.
She forced her legs to work and stood up. ‘Primo.’
He didn’t come any closer. ‘Faye. You look...’
She didn’t want to know that she looked tired too. She felt tired, in a bone-deep existential way that she’d never experienced before. And yet, in spite of her heartbreak, she also felt a measure of peace, after finally unburdening herself. Not that Primo would thank her for that.
‘Are you here to talk about the divorce?’ she asked.
‘No.’
She looked at him.
‘But I am here to talk.’ He started to pace. ‘You see, the thing is, Faye, you shocked me in S?o Paulo... I had no idea what you’d been through.’ He stopped and looked at her. ‘That was horrific. I can’t imagine what it must be like, at the very start of your young life, to be told that something as fundamental and basic as having a child is to be taken away from you.’
Faye sat down again, her legs giving way. ‘It was...one of the worst days of my life.’
Primo paced again. ‘And then, instead of supporting you, your husband turned his back.’
‘Yes.’
He stopped. Looked at her. ‘He made no attempt to understand it? To make you feel better?’
Faye stood up again. She couldn’t wilt like this. She came around her desk but stayed close to it.
‘No. Look, Primo, are you here to remind me of what happened as some kind of punishment? Because if you are, it’s working...and, believe me, it’s not as if these memories are ever that far from my mind.’
He looked at her, and his face was stark with something she couldn’t interpret. It made her broken in pieces heart pulsate a little.
‘No, I’m no..., I’m sorry... I just had to try and piece together what happened...’
She had to know. She could already feel the treacherous sprouting of hope. ‘Why are you here?’
He looked at her, his eyes very blue. ‘Because I’m not prepared to give up so easily. You thought that I’d fall at that hurdle? Just because your first husband did?’
Faye looked at Primo and remembered those moments when he’d joked about winning, not quitting.
‘This isn’t a game, Primo. You don’t have to try and beat him. If it’s any consolation, he really didn’t turn out to be all that great. I believe he’s on wife number three, and he’s locked in bitter custody battles to see his children from the first two marriages.’
Primo waved a hand. ‘I’m not trying to beat him—he’s a fool. I’m just saying that having children can happen in so many ways.’
Faye’s insides clenched painfully. This man had made her want to dream of that again, of the possibilities. Even if she would never actually give birth.
He was still talking. ‘There’s IVF, Faye. We could use my sperm and egg donation...find a surrogate.’
Without even thinking about it, Faye heard herself divulging, ‘I harvested some of my eggs...’
‘What?’
She nodded. It was as if that piece of information had always been there, but she’d pushed it down so deep because she’d never thought it would be of any use.
‘After I had the operation, my ovaries were... are still intact. I was advised to freeze some eggs because I was so young. To be honest, I was so traumatised at the time that I hardly noticed the couple of months they spent stimulating and then collecting eggs. And I still have my ovaries, so even if those eggs aren’t viable any more I could go through the process again.’
Primo looked shocked. ‘But do you not see that this gives us a chance to have a child of our own, Faye? How could you not have realised that?’
‘Maybe because when it was offered up to my husband as an option he dismissed it out of hand, saying, “I’m not having some stranger give birth to a child of mine.” He had a similar opinion of adoption.’
She looked at Primo.
‘After the divorce, I shut down. I buried any hope of having a child and kept my relationships strictly superficial, so it never came up. And then, when you and I married... I just assumed it wouldn’t become an issue because we would be divorcing in six months.’
Without even realising it Faye had retreated back behind her desk, as if seeking protection.
Primo came closer...to the other side of the desk. ‘First of all, your husband was a prize idiot. And I hope I never meet him because I’ll be tempted to do him some damage. Secondly, I can understand why you behaved the way you did... But we have a chance, Faye, aren’t you willing to explore that?’
Faye could see the satisfaction on Primo’s face: problem sorted. And, yes, she could acknowledge that there might be a chance for them to have a family... But he hadn’t lived with the demise of a dream for ten years. He had lost the possibility of having a family with her for only a week. And now he was learning that there was hope.
Part of Faye was angry with Primo—totally irrationally—because he wouldn’t ever understand the pain of her grief. The devastation.
‘Primo, it’s not that simple. Just because the eggs exist, or can exist, it doesn’t mean that we can create successful embryos or even find a surrogate.’
‘There’s adoption...’
Faye shook her head. ‘Are you really willing to bring up someone else’s child? And what if nothing worked and we were still alone? Without a family? Then what?’
He came around the desk, even closer. ‘Then we’d have each other.’
Faye shook her head, terrified to let herself believe that for a second. ‘It’s not enough, Primo. We’ve been together a month. We still don’t really know each other.’
‘I know you better than I know anyone else in this world, and I know that you know me.’
‘It was intense between us—’
‘It’s still intense, Faye. It’s not going anywhere.’
She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. She was aware of every minute movement he made. Every inflection of his voice. The humming electricity between them.
‘Primo, I can’t do this...’
He moved even closer, and now nothing separated them. If he touched her—
Faye sat down.
Primo went down on his haunches before her.
‘Faye, what I’m trying and failing to say is that if we ended up alone then that would be okay. Because I don’t want a family without you. It’s you or no one. The dream only exists because of you, and that dream can be just the two of us, if that’s what’s meant to be.’
Faye’s eyes prickled. ‘You can’t say that for sure, Primo, because we’re not facing that wasteland. But I know. It wrecked my first marriage. And I’ve heard stories all my life about failed IVF, about adoptions that go wrong because people aren’t honest about how much they want their own DNA in their children. It tears relationships far stronger than ours to shreds. You’ve only just decided that this is something you want...and you should have it. But not with me. There’s not enough to sustain us if it doesn’t work.’
He took her hands and looked at her. ‘I love you, Faye.’
His words fell into a numb place inside Faye where she couldn’t feel them. Or believe them. She was in self-protection mode.
‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because it’s true. I fell in love with you and I didn’t even know what it was. Because I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone before except for Quin.’
Faye stood up again, dislodging Primo’s hands, moving behind her chair. He rose in a fluid movement. Watched her. She felt panicky because what if she believed him and he was just saying this to win her over...
‘You don’t love me, Primo, it was just amazing sex. And now you think we might be able to have a family. We’re already married, and it’d be a hassle to divorce, and—’
‘Stop.’
Faye clamped her mouth shut.
Primo said, ‘I do love you. And, yes, I would like us to try and create a family. Because you’re the one who has broken me apart and made me want things I never thought I wanted. A whole life, Faye. Not half a life.’
But the truth was that it might only ever be half a life. Faye could see into a future where in spite of everything she and Primo couldn’t create that family. She saw how their desire would wane and how empty their lives would become. How he would realise that he didn’t love her. And then he would blame her for being empty, useless, like her first husband had. And he would walk away and leave her like a piece of unwanted baggage. And even though she now knew she was enough, she knew she would not survive Primo’s rejection.
She was barely surviving now, but in time she might just be able to claw back some sense of herself again.
And who’s that? asked a small voice. A woman skirting around the edges of life in case it hurts her?
She shook her head, hands gripping the back of her chair like claws. ‘I can’t, Primo. I won’t .’
‘Do you love me, Faye?’
Her heart beat out the answer.
Of course. Yes. For ever.
But she couldn’t speak. This was the last bastion of any kind of defence.
‘Don’t make me say it,’ she pleaded.
Because he knew. Of course he did.
He backed away to the door.
He said, ‘I won’t. For now. But it’s there, Faye, and you can try and hide from it, or deny it, but it’s futile. There are no guarantees of anything in life and, yes, I think after realising that I want to try for a family, and the kind of life I never knew, it would be disappointing if it didn’t work out. But all of that is secondary to the fact that without you none of it is even worth trying for. I’m not your first husband, Faye. I’m me, Primo, and I deserve the chance to show you how much I love you. For you, alone.’
When Primo was gone, Faye deflated like a balloon. She saw the packaged item he’d brought and went over and picked it up. She took off the paper. It was the Lara Lopez painting.
Faye put it up on a shelf and looked at it. It got her right in the gut. It was all there in its messiness. Life. All the pain and heartache and agony and tumult. But also the energy and the never-ending hope that made people get up every day and believe in something outside of themselves. And finally she saw it for the first time. Love . Big and terrifying and loud and potentially heartbreaking. But it was there. Like a beating heart. Never giving up. Hoping. Striving. Failing. Getting up and trying again. Doing better. Trusting.
She loved Primo. More than anything. More than her fear that he would walk away one day because she couldn’t deliver him a child.
There was a knock on the door and she turned around, heart slamming against her ribcage. Just as she was thinking it couldn’t be Primo, because he wouldn’t knock, her assistant appeared and handed her a note.
‘Primo wrote this just before he left and told me to give it to you.’
The paper was folded over and Faye opened it.
You’re braver than this.
I love you.
P (Your husband)
That evening, Primo sat at a dining table with three other men in one of Manhattan’s most exclusive restaurants. And he was bored silly. How had he put up with this for so long? He wanted to loosen his tie. Throw off his jacket. Upend the table. Smash plates and glasses. Demand that everyone see and acknowledge the pain he was in. The pain of loving a woman who had been so hurt by her past that—
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out.
A text.
From Faye.
Primo felt like a teenager as excitement surged in his blood.
You’re right. I am brave.
Primo tipped his head back and sent thanks to every god that existed. He texted:
You’re braver than anyone I know.
I am pretty amazing.
You are.
Go ahead, take off your tie. I’m sure they won’t mind.
Adrenalin filled Primo’s body. She was here.
He looked to his left.
Cold.
He looked to his right.
Getting warmer.
He turned around and looked behind him and he saw her. She had her back to him, but there was a big mirror along the wall and she was watching him in the reflection.
Her hair was down. She was wearing that dress again. The one with the sequins. She was on her own, and he vowed in that moment that she would never, ever be on her own again.
He stood up from the table and said, ‘Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me? There’s someone infinitely more interesting and beautiful that I need to talk to.’
And he went and sat down with his wife.
Much later, in Primo’s bed in his apartment, he and Faye were lying facing each other. They hadn’t even managed to get from the restaurant to the car without making love.
Faye giggled a little at the memory. ‘Do you think they have CCTV in that office?’
Primo grinned. ‘I hope so. It’ll be the scandal of the year. Primo Holt and Faye MacKenzie Bring One of Manhattan’s Most Respected Institutions into Disrepute .’
‘Faye MacKenzie Holt, you mean,’ she corrected him.
They linked hands. Fingers entwined.
Primo said, ‘Say it again, Faye. I need to hear it.’
Faye’s heart squeezed. She hadn’t fully acknowledged yet that, for Primo, handing himself over to someone after watching his own mother abandon him hadn’t been easy.
‘I love you, Primo Holt.’ She pressed a kiss to his mouth. ‘I love you.’ She kissed his chin. ‘I love you.’ She kissed his forehead. ‘I love you.’
‘What made you realise you could do this?’ he asked.
‘The fact that my love for you is greater than my fear of you walking away. I’d always associated the grief I felt that I couldn’t have children with my heartbreak over my husband’s rejection, but I didn’t love him at all. I just loved the idea of being married and having a successful life together...’ She bit her lip, a faint lingering doubt niggling at her. ‘What if it doesn’t work and we can’t have children? What happens to your legacy?’
Primo shrugged. ‘Nowadays, I don’t think succession matters like that. And we have a nephew and two nieces who, in case you hadn’t noticed, are already running rings around their parents and who bear the Holt name.’
Faye felt relief flood her. She chuckled, thinking of Sol.
Primo became serious. ‘I’m not going anywhere. Faye. Ever. No matter what happens. And I have a proposal.’
‘We’re already married.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Primo kissed her. And then he said, ‘No, a slightly different proposal. I think we should give ourselves a year. A year of getting to know one another, living together, with no talk of children, or a family, and no trying anything. How does that sound?’
‘Still trying to get me to move in with you?’ Faye joked. But she felt emotional.
It was an amazing proposal. A chance to really get to know one another before they went near the subject of children or family. She hadn’t even realised until that moment how much she needed some sort of show of trust from Primo like this.
‘Oh, you’re not going anywhere, Mrs MacKenzie Holt. Whether it’s here, or your apartment, I don’t care where we are—as long as we’re together. And never apart for longer than about...an hour? Would that do?’
Faye buried her head in his shoulder, overwhelmed with love and emotion.
He tipped her chin up. ‘So, what do you say?’
She smiled. ‘I think that sounds just perfect... But let’s add a little clause. If we want to talk about it in six months, let’s talk about it then.’
Primo groaned and rolled onto his back, taking Faye with him so she lay over him. ‘What is it with you and six months? Do I have to point out we only got as far as a month before the wheels came off and this marriage became a love-match?’
Faye grinned. ‘Well, then, let’s see where we are in a month. Because from where I’m currently lying, anything is possible.’
Primo rolled over again, and this time he was perfectly positioned between Faye’s legs.
Just before he joined their bodies he kissed her and said, ‘Bring it on. I can’t wait.’