Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
JOSEPHINE
I watch my train leave the station.
The ticket Ellis gave me is a ball of shredded paper bits in my hand. I can still see the manic, fearful look he had in his eyes when I walked into his room earlier. Something is wrong, really wrong , and he doesn’t trust me enough to tell me what it is.
As I slump into one of the well-worn wood benches at the train station, staring at the chipped tile on the opposite wall, I’m not sure he ever will.
It’s agonizing to accept, but I’m learning that trusting someone means offering them a piece of yourself, and Ellis has never done that for me. Even with all his promises of wanting this to be real, he still hasn’t offered more of himself than the bare minimum needed to keep me.
In all my worrying over this man breaking my heart, it never occurred to me that I might be the one who needed to walk away, or that the prospect of not being in Zoe’s life forever would be just as gut-wrenching.
I have to keep my lips pressed together to stop a sob from escaping. The village gossips about us enough, the last thing I need is to be spotted crying my eyes out in the train station.
Ellis doesn’t know I stayed. As far as he’s aware, I’m on my way to Paris, and I still could be. Just because I didn’t take the last train doesn’t mean I can’t get on the next one and go by myself. Maybe it would be good to get some space, then go back on Monday with a better idea of what I want.
Another train rattles into the station, and I’m only vaguely aware of travelers getting on and off. I don’t notice the brown-haired woman taking the bench across from mine until she speaks.
“ Excusez-moi .” Having spent the past few months surrounded by native French speakers, and being playfully teased enough for my own accent, I know a foreigner when I hear one. She’s older than me—maybe thirty—and has a large leather bag beside her. She’s dressed in much more formal, trendy clothing than I’ve seen so far in the village, and wouldn’t look out of place at one of my mother’s faculty luncheons.
I smile politely. “Do you speak English per chance? My French is a work in progress.”
Her shoulders sag in relief. “Oh, thank god,” she exclaims in a clear American accent. “I wasn’t prepared to embarrass myself this early in the day.”
“You’re in luck. I’m from Connecticut.”
“Oh wow, small world. I lived there for a while.” She sighs. “Well, I’m glad to have found a fellow foreigner, but I’m not sure if you’ll be able to help me. I’m looking for this address, and I can’t connect to the station Wi-Fi to get my GPS going or make a call.”
She holds her phone out and I lean forward, squinting at the address. As soon as I make it out, the room around us seems to go unnaturally still. It’s a challenge not to let my shock show as I straighten up, staring at the stranger with new eyes.
She’s going to the chateau.
Now that I’m looking at her— really looking at her—a ball of suspicion and dread drops into the pit of my stomach. Her face is familiar. Not because I’ve ever met or seen her before, but because I see parts of her every day.
This is Zoe’s mother.
“I know where that is.” I tell her, surprised by how even my voice is.
“You’re my savior,” she says with a grateful smile. “Can you point me in the right direction? I can’t imagine this town is huge.”
I can barely process what she’s saying, because Ellis’s ex-wife is going to see them, and he sent me away .
“I—” My words falter, and I clear my throat, struggling to speak. “I work there.”
The woman across from me, Zoe’s mother, the woman Ellis once pledged to spend the rest of his life with, is staring at me too now with a look of dawning realization. “You’re Zoe’s nanny.”
My answering nod is jerky and uneven. “Yes.”
Silence falls between us and, with a sudden burst of vicious satisfaction, I know exactly what I’m going to do. “I’ll take you.” I stand, hitching my overnight bag over my shoulder.
She frowns at me, unsure. “I don’t want to trouble you. You’re obviously on your way somewhere.”
I shake my head. “Nope. My trip was canceled. Let’s go.”
Without waiting to see if she’s following me, I march out of the station, and out onto the hot street. I hadn’t realized it, but a while must have passed since Ellis left me here. How long did I sit on that bench, wondering how things went so wrong, so quickly ?
“What did you say your name was?” Ellis’s ex-wife asks as she falls into step beside me.
“Jo.”
I’ve never disliked anyone this quickly. Ellis might not trust me enough to confide in me about his divorce, but what I’ve pieced together is plenty.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jo. I’m Miranda.”
I don’t respond, her name settling in at the top of my—admittedly short—shit-list.
A few more minutes pass in silence, and we turn down the long, tree-lined dirt road that leads back to the chateau, passing the clump of bushes I once shoved a basket of groceries into because Zoe was having a meltdown and I couldn’t carry them both. Up ahead is the hole in the road that she tripped in two weeks ago and scraped both knees. She screamed all the way back home, and Ellis had to hold her still while I bandaged them up. We can’t see it yet, but there’s a patch of wildflowers a little way from here that Zoe always plucks for the vase in her bedroom.
So many memories that are hard and happy and everything in between.
Miranda breaks the silence. “How long have you been Zoe’s nanny?”
God, just the sound of her voice puts my teeth on edge. “Three months.” Long enough to negate any possible excuse for her absence in her daughter’s life. Zoe hasn’t mentioned her mother or asked for her a single time. Ellis might be a lot of things, but he isn’t a liar. I doubt he’s been sneaking around, arranging video chats or phone calls between the two of them when I wasn’t around.
“You must think I’m horrible.” Miranda’s tone is mild, as if we were discussing the weather.
Yes. I do.
I don’t look at her. “It’s none of my business. ”
She laughs slightly. “I saw your face when you realized who I am. Ellis mentioned he was supposed to go away this weekend, too. Something tells me you’re not just the nanny.”
That’s none of her business, but I keep my mouth closed. I have better things to worry about than what this woman thinks of me. Every step we take brings me closer to the chateau, and probably the end of my relationship.
“Do you visit a lot?” I change the subject, endeavoring to keep my voice level. I already know the answer, but I’m curious if she’ll lie.
I glance over in time to see Miranda’s smile slip. “Not as much as I’d like. I’m a journalist, a foreign correspondent. It keeps me on the road.”
“Wow,” I reply flatly. “Sounds exciting.”
“It is,” Miranda answers at last, and there’s no way she hasn’t picked up on the animosity. “Stressful at times, but I enjoy it.”
“Cool.”
Though I pretend not to notice, I see her glance at me out of the corner of my eye.
“How long have you been together?” There’s no judgement in her voice, or jealousy, only polite curiosity. I ignore her, busying myself by switching my overnight bag to the opposite shoulder. Miranda tries again. “I really don’t mean any harm, Jo. I’m thrilled he’s found someone. Ellis has probably told you a lot about me, but I swear I’m only about three quarters as evil as he says.” Her attempt at humor falls flat.
Probably because Ellis hasn’t told me a single thing. Until fifteen minutes ago, her existence was all I knew of Miranda.
Far ahead, I can see the first pillar of the stone columns which flank the chateau’s iron gates. If my stomach sinks any more, it’ll be dragging behind me on the ground.
“Why don’t you tell me why?” I ask wildly, so desperate for any kind of distraction that even listening to Miranda talk seems preferable to wondering what will happen when we turn that corner.
“It’s not an unusual story. We met in undergrad and, well, you know what Ellis is like. If you meet a man who is good and kind and reliable, you marry him. It’s what anyone would do. I let my dreams get caught up with his, and before I knew it, I was married, living in the suburbs and having his baby.”
The weary tone she uses to describe this life makes no sense to me. That sounds like paradise. Spending my days surrounded by people who love me? How could she not want that? How could that not be enough?
I swallow, slowing my pace just a little. “It didn’t work out, though.”
“No,” Miranda confirms, her voice hollow. “It didn’t. I had Zoe, and for a while, I thought I could ignore the restlessness. I figured it would pass. My mother told me everyone feels like this from time to time.” She lets out a hollow, humorless laugh. “It didn’t, though. Ellis didn’t understand. He tried, but…” She shakes her head.
“I don’t regret my daughter, but I do regret becoming a mother. I wasn’t suited to it. I was barely keeping it together, and suddenly she was having all these huge, overwhelming issues. It was a struggle to connect with her, to connect with Ellis, all of it. I felt like an imposter living in someone else’s life. How it ended wasn’t pretty. I’m not proud of it, or my lack of presence in Zoe’s life, but it’s better this way.”
Better for who? I want to ask. Miranda threw away the two people I want with all my heart. The newfound loathing is a welcome distraction from the heartbreak.
As we round the corner at the gates, we pause, staring up at the beautiful structure before us for very different reasons.
“Wow,” Miranda offers, breezy and cheerful, as if twenty seconds ago she wasn’t trying to justify why she abandoned her family. “Looks like a tough work assignment. ”
We’ve reached the middle of the drive before the heavy wood door bursts open. Ellis is standing there with Zoe in his arms, and his face is chalk white, horror evident even from here.
“Hi Jojo!” sings Zoe, waving at me enthusiastically.
I plaster a smile on my face for her benefit, and wave back. “Hi, honey girl,” I call, but there’s no disguising the tremor in my voice.
Maude appears at Ellis’s shoulder, and when she sees me and Miranda, her expression darkens. I don’t look at them, though. My attention is on Zoe, my heart aching when I see the pinched look on her face, a sure sign of trouble approaching.
It’s hitting me all over again that she’s never mentioned Miranda to me. Not once. The kid talks about the man who sells ice-cream in a shop back in Connecticut, but she’s never said a word about the woman who brought her into this world. Without warning, I stop dead in the middle of the drive. Miranda pauses too, looking at me quizzically.
“Are you alright?”
God, I can only imagine how I look right now. “No,” I tell her, and my voice is so low, so threatening and unfamiliar, that if I didn’t know it was me speaking, I wouldn’t have recognized it. “I love your daughter, Miranda. She’s curious and funny and amazes me about twenty times a day. You’re not here for her, though, you’re here for you . If you have any awareness at all, you must know that these whenever you can visits are going to hurt her. Haven’t you done enough damage? When is it enough? Either step up and be her mom, or...” my words falter.
Or let me be.
That’s what I was going to say. That’s what I want. Will Ellis ever let me, though? Or will I forever be striving to be good enough to cancel out this woman’s bad ?
I shake myself. “Never mind. Enjoy your visit.” And I turn, continuing on toward the chateau, keeping my gaze trained down. If I meet his eyes, I’m going to cry, and I refuse to do that in front of Zoe. Not now.
As my foot finds the first of the steps into the house, I hear Ellis’s voice, quiet and pleading. “Josephine.”
I don’t stop and look at him. I walk straight into the house, Maude’s voice carrying after me, speaking in rapid, clearly furious French. The tears finally break free when I’m halfway up the stairs. It’s not until I’ve reached the long upstairs hall which leads to all our bedrooms that I hear him.
“Josephine! Merde —Jo. Please stop!”
Reluctantly, I slow, sniffing and wiping the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. It takes a lot for me to override the urge to run as far from him as I can, but this is important.
I wait, hating that my heart twists at the broken expression on his face when he stops three feet away from me, his chest heaving. “Go back down, Ellis. You should be with Zoe. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Maude has her,” he says in a rush. “I need to explain.”
I scoff. “No. You don’t. You didn’t have time, remember?” His hands come out, preparing to touch my face like he must have done a thousand times by now, but I step out of the way. Ellis’s expression flickers with panic. “You keep telling me you want this, but I think you’re terrified, Ellis. You think I’m going to leave like she did, and I’ve been trying to prove you wrong for months without even realizing it. Since the very first night, you’ve been sabotaging our relationship. Better to have it end sooner rather than later, right? Better to never give me the chance to hurt you the way she did?”
Ellis shakes his head, looking paler than ever. “That isn’t true.”
“It is!” I cry, raising my voice for the first time. “Do you trust me?”
The question hangs in the air between us. Ellis swallows. “I think that in time?—”
“No.” My voice breaks. “This isn’t an I think , Ellis. It’s not fair. I’m not Miranda! I love Zoe! How do you not see that I would do anything for your little girl? How do you not see that I would do anything for you ? If that still isn’t good enough, there’s nothing I can do to change your mind.”
Ellis's face transforms from anxious to devastated. “I do trust you.”
“No. You don’t.” I swallow, and when I speak again, my voice is hollow. “I can’t do this anymore. No more arrangements, no more back and forth, no more letting you twist me up and think we have a future when we don’t. You’re not a bad person, you might even be an amazing one, but I deserve better than to spend god knows how long trying to prove I’m not your ex-wife.” He makes a noise in protest, but I hold up a hand to stop it. “Don’t worry. You don’t need to find a new nanny. I’m staying for Zoe .”
He stares at me, his chest heaving. “Josephine , I—” His words falter as, from downstairs, we hear the echo of Zoe’s familiar cry. We look toward the grand staircase in unison, and—unthinking—we both start toward her.
That’s not my job, though. I’m not a part of this family and Ellis has made sure I never will be.
“Go.” My voice wavers. “Make sure she’s okay.”
I turn away first, so he doesn’t have to.