Chapter 32 Andrea #3
Miranda fixed me with a look that said I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Kind isn’t a word one often associates with Sebastian.”
I shrugged and tried to smile, but seeing Sebastian had rattled me more than I wanted to admit. Was everything I’d told myself about my art for so many years … wrong?
“I did … love it. It’s just been a while since I’ve been able to paint.”
“That’s a shame, my dear. But things like that don’t disappear. People just get busy being too sensible. Loving something usually means it’s not finished with you yet.”
“I—I’m not sure I’ve ever thought of it that way.”
It all sounded so simple, the way Miranda put it. Nothing like the spreadsheets and targets and mental arithmetic of keeping everyone afloat—Eliza, Mum, me. It had been so long since I’d allowed myself to want something that didn’t come with a measurable return.
Miranda patted my arm, then looked away, as if she wanted to say something else but decided against it.
“It’s a beautiful wedding, Miranda. Thank you for inviting us.”
“It is, isn’t it?” She looked out over the terrace where the land fell away down to the forest, the music from the string quartet carrying across the grounds. “Nice to bring people back together.”
From the other side, I saw Liam looking across the heads, and he caught my eye and raised his hand. Then closer, there was Bonnie, staring at me. She turned back to the group she was with.
“I’m so glad you and Liam met,” Miranda said, following my line of sight. “He so evidently cares about you, Andrea. Whatever this is … it’s different for him.”
Something bright flickered through me. It sounded so real, I didn’t like how quickly my brain reached for it.
Was this what women told themselves when they sold out? That the man funding the life they enjoyed wasn’t really responsible for what it cost? That once you’d been chosen, the rules bent? Was this who I wanted to be?
No.
I wasn’t that woman.
“You’re like his mother, Eleanor, you know,” Miranda said. “She’s artistic, like you. Photography was her thing, but she had the same spirit. It’s a shame she and Liam don’t see each other much now.”
I nodded. “It is.”
“And have you met his father yet, Wilhelm?”
My mind snapped back to the moment. My script.
“Oh, not yet. Liam’s been so busy with Novexia. We’re planning to meet them next year. Both his parents, I mean.”
Miranda took a sip of her drink. “He sees him even less, of course,” she added. “He’s … not the easiest man.”
The man who’d sent Liam to boarding school against his mother’s wishes. Who thought his son’s childhood interests were “silly.” Who’d wanted to “make a man” of him.
No, he didn’t sound easy.
“It’s been difficult for Liam,” she said. “His father was very … well. I’m sure he’s told you.”
“A little.”
Not enough.
“It’s why he joined the military, you know,” she said. “He had such a commercial eye, like his father. A natural business leader. But that wasn’t the path he wanted.” She laughed. “God forbid he turn out like his dad. And then, of course, I expect you know the rest.”
“I—”
“Eleanor will love you,” she said.
“I hope so.” Would I ever meet her? Sometimes it seemed like it might be possible …
“We were so worried about him for a while there,” she said. “The drinking, the parties … it wasn’t like him. Hugo said he was concerned Liam was trying to—” She paused. “Well. Trying to disappear into noise, if that makes sense. But you’ve been good for him, Andrea. He seems … present again.”
“Oh. I’m glad.”
She looked away again, at the view. A couple of fireflies hovered over the bushes. The sunlight was almost completely gone.
“Hugo and I have known Liam most of his life,” she said. “He’d stay with us during the holidays, sometimes.”
“Yes.” The less I spoke, the better.
“He’s much more sensitive than people realize. It’s why Afghanistan hit him so hard.”
“I—of course.”
The scars. The box he kept shut.
“It’s good he has his focus back.” She smiled. “I think what he’s doing with Novexia will help, but it won’t be enough.”
How could buying a pharmaceutical company help with whatever had happened in Afghanistan? Was that what she meant? Nothing about this was on his CV. Just company names, wins, success.
Was it just a distraction?
It didn’t seem to fit with what she was saying.
But what else could she mean?
“Andrea—” She stopped and looked at me, her face serious. “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but—”
“It’s fine.” I tried to keep my voice light.
“I can sense you have some reservations,” she continued.
“I—I don’t—”
From the corner of my eye, I could see Liam trying to catch my attention. A small wave.
Please. Stay there.
“It’s understandable, Andrea,” she said. “What he’s been through. Some of the things you might have heard—”
No. I haven’t heard. Tell me, Miranda. Please.
Liam was closer now, maybe thirty feet away, weaving his way toward me.
“He’s a good man,” she said. Her eyes searched mine. I kept them focused on her, Liam’s shape approaching in my peripheral vision. “He just needs—”
“Andrea.” Liam was smiling. “Shall we take a seat?”