Chapter 8
Dominique wasn’t sure why, but when they came back from Courchevel this time, she had a harder time adjusting to Bill going back to his “real” life, and no longer waking up next to him every day.
For the first week she couldn’t sleep, for the second she had nightmares, except for the two nights he stayed with her.
It was as though she needed him now to a degree she hadn’t before, as though her heart was refusing to accept the limited rations of time he gave her.
Suddenly she needed more, and he had a particularly busy month, with two court cases and a major negotiation to deal with.
During the third week they were back, he could only spend the night with her once, and Dominique was upset and out of sorts all week.
She was even jealous of Eileen because she got to see him every day and lived with him, which was all that Dominique longed for.
Everything her mother had said to her recently came back to her, and she felt as though she had a vise on her chest. It made her feel physically sick when she couldn’t see Bill.
It didn’t even make sense to her. She had always been able to control her emotions with reason before.
Now it was as if her heart and body keened for him, and refused to accept less than she needed.
She looked tired and had dark circles under her eyes the next time she saw him, after his not having seen her for a week.
He’d been in court all day and in meetings after that, and he couldn’t even call her.
It had taken a heavy toll on her and Bill saw it immediately but didn’t know the reason why.
“Are you okay?” he asked her over a quiet dinner in her kitchen.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, unwilling to admit that she’d been in withdrawal ever since their vacation. It seemed weak to her, and embarrassing to be so needy.
“You’re not sick? You look tired.”
“I’ve been working hard, we’re doing another big bridal show during Fashion Week,” she explained, which was true, but it wasn’t what was keeping her awake at night.
He was, by not being with her. But she understood that there was no way he could be, unless he left Eileen.
That wasn’t an option, and she knew it. They’d had a fantastic time on vacation, but he could only do that once a year, when Eileen was at the spa with her sister.
They made love after dinner that night. Bill was starving for her, and said he was having a hard time adjusting after being with her constantly for two weeks.
He was miserable now without her. And she was so easy to be with.
He said Eileen complained constantly, blamed him for everything, was unpleasant with him every time he saw her, and started arguments with him over nothing.
He didn’t know what had gotten into her, but she was the worst she’d ever been with him, which made him miss Dominique even more.
It was a bad combination. Too little Dominique, and too much Eileen.
She reminded him daily of everything that was wrong with their marriage and had been for years.
He was doing everything he could not to take the bait, and to keep the marriage together.
He still believed that getting a divorce would cause bigger problems, financially and for his kids.
With no prenup, he and Eileen would have to admit failure, sell their house and split everything they had, and support two households, with two boys in college.
It would cause serious financial problems that he didn’t want to deal with.
He had stayed married to her, at great personal sacrifice, to avoid just that, but it was a miserable way to live.
He was even short-tempered with Dominique when he saw her.
It wasn’t her fault that she was so wonderful he wanted to be with her.
But giving in to his desires and throwing caution to the winds would cause serious financial risks.
He didn’t want to have to rely on Dominique for support.
She had no idea why Bill was suddenly like a volcano, ready to erupt all the time.
He had been fine on their vacation, relaxed and happy.
And a bear as soon as they got home. They were both suffering from being apart and missing each other.
His bad mood had a ripple effect and impacted her, and she was then short-tempered at work, and with her girls when she saw them.
They could tell that something was wrong but couldn’t guess what, and didn’t want to pry.
* * *
The wedding planning added more stress. Felicity was on edge too.
The Whitfields had added fifty more people to the guest list than they said they would, which Felicity didn’t think was fair to her mother.
They were crowding the list with their friends, and still contributing nothing, and in Felicity’s opinion, their friends were dull and old.
She and Taylor talked about it one night when Felicity brought it up as politely as she could.
She had called her mother about a wedding detail that afternoon and Dominique had snapped at her, which wasn’t like her.
She was usually inordinately patient, but Felicity knew the wedding planning was enormously time-consuming and expensive, and her father hadn’t offered to pay for anything either, and he had a long list of friends too.
He and Taylor’s parents were getting a free ride, at her mother’s expense, which really upset Felicity.
She had offered to make a contribution herself from the monthly income from the trust her mother had set up for her, which wasn’t enough to make a big difference, but Dominique was touched and apologized for barking at her.
Felicity was worried about her, she had so much on her shoulders, and no one to share the load.
Felicity knew that her mother loved Bill, but he always remained on the periphery of their lives and her mother’s, and he had his own.
He was the eternal visitor but never really on the team, and careful not to be too deeply engaged in their lives or Dominique’s.
Felicity had no idea that that was what was upsetting her mother now.
It was so obvious to Dominique after the vacation.
They had been so close for two incredibly wonderful weeks, and then Bill went right back to his own life as though the vacation had never happened.
Every time they came home, she felt like Cinderella after the ball, as the coach turned into a pumpkin and the mice scampered away.
Her mother was right. It was a hard way to love a man.
“I’m so sorry the wedding is so expensive, Mom,” Felicity said apologetically.
“It’s all right. That’s the nature of weddings, it all adds up.”
“And Dad and Taylor’s parents just keep adding more people.
I sent him an email to stop, and I’m going to tell Taylor to put a leash on his parents too.
I hate the way everyone expects you to pay for everything and no one offers to help.
I really hate big weddings. I wish we had kept it small and had done it at some nice inn in Connecticut or something.
Who are we showing off to at the Met? Probably no one on their lists cares about the art there anyway.
They just want to be there and be seen.”
“It’ll be a beautiful memory for you and Taylor in the years to come,” her mother said gently. “We’re fine. We won’t go broke from the wedding, and it will be a special day you’ll both treasure.”
“Dad and the Whitfields will. I don’t care. I’d rather not bleed you dry for people we don’t even know or care about.”
She was still upset when she talked to Taylor about it that night. He’d had a bad day at work and was in a bad mood. A deal had gone sour and they’d lost the account, and listening to Felicity complain about his parents didn’t help.
“Why are you always complaining about my parents?” Taylor snarled at her, and helped himself to a glass of wine.
“Because they keep adding to the guest list and making it more expensive for my mother. We’re over three hundred guests now. And the last time I checked, your parents aren’t paying for anything.” She was more strident than she meant to be, but she was upset for her mother.
“Are you saying my parents are bilking your mother out of money?”
“I’m saying she’s spending a hell of a lot of money for people I don’t even know at a wedding I didn’t want. I wanted it small so it wouldn’t turn into the circus it’s becoming. It won’t even be fun, it’s already too big.”
“Are you trying to back out?” he said aggressively, his face close to hers. “Is your mother?”
“Of course not, she’d never do that.” She lowered her voice. “Maybe your parents don’t realize how expensive it’s getting. Maybe they could help?”
“Why should they? It’s not their responsibility. They’re paying for the rehearsal dinner, which is the groom’s only obligation. That’s enough. The rest is up to your mother.”
“Their dinner at your father’s club will cost a fraction of the Met. The club provides the flowers from a cheap florist, and the food tastes like hospital food. I went to a wedding there once. It was awful.”