Chapter 26
She locked the door, leaned against it, and sighed.
A sense of tranquility fell over her. The room was out of a decorating magazine, furnished in antique white pine and French linen drapes and bed hangings.
She hoped the framed Monets on the wall were prints.
Gilbert had done all this. His choice of plaid and complementing print fabrics was brave and elegant.
Marti would be impressed. A lovely prison she’d sentenced herself to.
She had promised Marti and herself she’d have the courage to ask Gilbert to help her.
But she’d used every drop of courage she possessed to remain calm after looking at that photograph of Sophie, Luca, and David—the happy family that she didn’t belong to.
It was too early in Seattle to call Marti, even if she’d told her to call anytime, this was not an emergency.
Claire could handle these emotions herself… maybe.
Her face burned as she searched to identify what she was feeling—like a sense of having been slapped. She was jealous. Jealous of something she’d known nothing about for at least seven years of her marriage. Beneath her jealousy lay a swamp of betrayal.
She paced. Why wasn’t she seeing David for who he was?
He’d kept Luca a secret. For years. David might have been afraid to tell her about Luca, but she struggled to comprehend how he’d left his son after every visit.
She’d been with the child for a few hours over the past two days and already missed him.
She’d never figure out how David could leave Luca.
She’d been loyal to her husband her entire married life, but David wasn’t here anymore.
He’d betrayed her by keeping Luca a secret.
She wasn’t betraying David by feeling attracted to Gilbert.
She rubbed her thighs and saw the wine had stained her caramel pants.
She groaned and looked around the room for a saltcellar and found one on the desk.
Folding the slacks into the bathroom sink, she sprinkled the salt over the stain and turned on the cold water.
A knock startled her. That was Gilbert, and she was half naked. She grabbed a chenille throw from the bed and wrapped it around her hips like a skirt. “Come in.”
The doorknob clicked. “It’s locked.”
“Oh, how did that happen?” Could she pretend she couldn’t unlock it? She gnawed at her chapped lip. Stop lying. Clutching her blanket-skirt, she bent and unlocked the door with a flick of her finger.
He placed her roller bag on the floor, encircled her in his arms, and pulled her to him.
She put up her hands and resisted for half a second, then leaned into him, inhaling the cedar scent of his cologne.
“I am sorry about the photograph. I should have put it away, but I forgot. It must have been a shock for you.”
How had he known in an instant how she felt? She nodded. He rubbed her back. His heart beat against her palms, strong, slow, steady.
“David and Sophie admired and respected one another, but they were only friends.”
And David had kept Sophie a secret, as well as Gilbert and Luca. A stiffness spread across her shoulders. She was angry with David. Marti would say: About time.
“Would you like to return to the salon? The fire is lonely, and so am I.”
She reluctantly backed away. Her blanket-skirt fell to her ankles.
“There’s a fluffy robe hanging in the armoire.” He grinned.
She was surprised she wasn’t embarrassed. She wanted him to look at her. Being in his arms felt safe, and she already missed his warmth. “D’accord. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Your French lessons are going well.” He quietly closed the door behind him.
She began unpacking her bag and held David’s photo.
I feel cheated that you never shared Luca with me.
It feels good to be angry with you. Guilt swept in and back out.
David always protected her, but whatever he protected her from was cloaked in darkness.
Why hadn’t he helped her to uncover her feelings?
Or encourage her to excavate them herself?
Or at least urge her to talk to her best friend, who happened to be a doctor.
She placed the photo in a drawer, under her clothes.
David wasn’t alive anymore. She needed to see him for who he really was, not who she thought he’d been.
The darkness in her life had restricted her and her marriage from growing. She wanted an intimate relationship, and she’d have one if it killed her. Hiding from the octopus’s tentacles was no longer possible. She aimed to shine light on that Kraken and evict him from her life.
She freshened her makeup, changed into her nightgown, put on the fluffy white robe embroidered with tiny pink rosebuds, and fussed with her hair.
Gilbert was right, David wouldn’t want her to be lonely. He’d want her to be happy. And since she had the rest of her life to live, she wanted to be happy, too.