But away from all of it, I realize how na?ve I was. Love is only part of what makes a marriage work. Marriage isn’t about keeping tabs on who’s fucked up the most. It’s about taking those mistakes and working through them. Marriage is about commitment and forgiving—truly forgiving—and not giving up.
Is it stupid to let him back in once again? I don’t know. But I can’t throw this away because of a beautiful dream. Sébastien was more than that, my heart yells, but I ignore it. I tuck that love in a place that William will never be able to reach, a place that belongs to Sébastien and Sébastien alone; a place between heaven and hell, torment and delight. I focus on William who anchors me to the present, to the now, to this life. Underneath all the hurt and disappointment, he’s still my husband and the man I fell in love with a long time ago. Besides, who am I to judge him? My hands are just as dirty as his. My aunt used to say that those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. Therefore I take my dirty stones and put them back in my pocket. I capitulate. I open the door and let him back in.
I cup William’s jaw and make him look at me as I say goodbye to my sun and beautiful dream. “It’s all in the past.”
“I will make this right, I promise,” he says earnestly before kissing me, and this time I don’t turn my face away. He erases the memory of another man’s kiss and replaces it with his. My heart shouts that this is wrong, that these aren’t the arms, the lips I want, but I ignore that voice and its pleas as I try to lose myself in the taste of his mouth. And when he reaches for me, taking my clothes off, touching every part of my body, I let him.
He spreads my legs and settles between them, entering me in one swift thrust. I let him fill me over and over again, come inside me, claim me until I can’t feel or think anymore, and I’m swallowed by darkness. Welcome it.
There’s no more music. No more laughter.
I do anything to make the pain and memories go away until there’s nothing but numbness. But it doesn’t work.
Every part of my soul cries for another man.
Oh, Sébastien …
NIGHT HAS FALLEN, but the wedding reception is just getting started.
The rich scent of roses drifts in the air, and the band’s playing a Tony Bennett oldie, the male singer crooning charmingly for the audience. The expansive lawn of the country club has been turned into a magical forest lit by twinkling lights. Part of me says, enjoy, Valentina! But I can’t bring myself to feel anything. Not one damn thing.
As I look around me, surrounded by so many people, so much exuberance, I have never felt more alone. There are times when I feel like a small fish in a vast sea, swimming against the direction of the current, unable to break free from it. And the more I fight the current, the harder it is to swim. I’m drowning, and I can do nothing but smile.
I take a sip of wine and watch the bride as she slow dances with her handsome husband, one of William’s cronies from grad school. He leans forward to whisper something in her ear while his pinky finger caresses her shoulder, and she throws her head back, laughing. It’s the perfect shot. I hope the photographer caught it. I hope they remain that happy for as long as they can …
“Hey, you,” a woman says, bumping my shoulder with hers.
I turn to look at my friend and smile naturally for the first time in what feels like a long time. “Gigi, hi.”
We kiss on the cheeks and stare at each other. “Couldn’t miss the wedding of the year,” she adds saucily.
I chuckle. “Like you would care.”
Her gaze lands on the bride and groom, her features softening. “Actually, I love weddings. Always have.” She shrugs, raising her glass to her lips and gulping some of the white wine down. “Anyway, I’d heard you were back,” Gigi says, focusing on me once again.
“Yep,” I say, popping the sound of the p. “Paris was nice, but it was time to come home.”
She raises a perfect eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” But I know. I know.
“What about, oh I don’t know…” She traces a crack on the balustrade. “A certain gorgeous French man?”
And there it is again, the pain. The kind that no amount of alcohol will soothe or make you forget. I hide it behind smiles I don’t feel, but my heart knows. It remembers every single day. And no matter how long it’s been, there are times when it hurts so much I can hardly breathe.
“We were just friends,” I say softly.
She scoffs in an unladylike manner. “Friends don’t look at each other that way, Val.”
“Please, Gigi. I’d rather not talk about it.” Suddenly cold, I fold my arms across my chest and look at the ground, dispassionately noticing green and brown stains from the grass on the bottom of my gown. “It’s all in the past.”
“Is it?” Gigi asks wisely.
Ever since I came back a month ago, I’ve thrown myself into my old life while trying to make a new one with William. Days have turned into more days and more days, and William has been true to his word. Gone are the long hours at work. The lonely nights. He showers me with love and affection every chance he gets. He’s also accepted to go to marriage therapy with me. But late at night, when my guard is down, it’s hard not to admit that it’s all a fraud.
I’m a fraud.
Sébastien is everywhere. In rainstorms. The taste of wine. I close my eyes, and he’s there waiting for me to come back to him. Lost in agony, I wish, beg, for one more glimpse of him. But I continue to hold onto this pain because it’s all I have left of Sébastien, and I would rather live in hell for the rest of my days than to let him go. It’s his memory alone that sustains me, giving me the strength to keep going in the empty vastness that is life without him.
I place my hands on the stone balustrade, still warm from being exposed to the sun all day. Raising my eyes to the sky, I try to admire the dark blanket twinkling with embedded stars. It reminds me of another evening similar to this when the night was young and a hypnotizing man invited me to dance. In that single, eternal moment life was full of magic, beautiful possibilities.
I chuckle when I really feel like crying. Bring a hand to my chest almost expecting to find a gaping hole there. I ripped my own heart out when I left him, and now there is nothing there. Nothing. Sometimes doing the right thing breaks you the most. “You know why people lie, Gigi?”
“It’s easier than facing the truth?”
I bite my lip, a rock lodged in the back of my throat. “Because sometimes the truth hurts more than a lie ever could.”
She reaches for my hand. “Val—”
“There you are,” I hear my husband say before he wraps an arm around my waist, his heat seeping in my bones. He places a soft kiss on the curve of my neck. “I’ve been looking for you, my darling.”
I give my head a tiny shake as I try to compose myself, pasting a smile for William. “Hey ... I’ve been here catching up with Gigi.”