“I wound up all over the tabloids with her. I think she saw to that. We had a torrid affair, which you politely ignored, which was gracious beyond belief. And she got pregnant two weeks after I met her. She refused to have an abortion, and wanted to get married. She told me she loved me, and wanted to give up everything for me, her career, modeling, her country, her life, and stay home and raise our kids. Music to my ears. I was ready for a full-time wife by then, and you weren't ready to do that, or likely to, from what I could see. Who knew? I never asked you. I just lost my mind over her.

“She was having my baby. I wanted more kids, and having Chloe had been too hard on you. Besides, given your schedule, it would have been crazy for us to have more kids. It was hard enough dragging two kids all over the world, even I couldn't see you doing it with three or four, and Anthony was getting older. And I wanted my kids at home with me. Don't ask me how, but she convinced me that marriage was the best solution, for her. We were going to be a cozy little couple with a bunch of babies. I bought a house in Greenwich, and called a lawyer. I think I lost my mind. Classic midlife crisis. Wall Street financier goes nuts, and destroys his life, and fucks over his wife. I flew to Paris and told you I was divorcing you. I never saw anyone cry like that in my life. For about five minutes, I wondered what I was doing. I spent the night with you, and almost came to my senses. Our kids were adorable and I didn't want to make them or you unhappy. And then she called me. She was like a witch, weaving a spell, and it worked.

“I went back to New York, and filed the divorce. You asked for nothing except child support. You were making plenty of money on your own, and you had too much pride to take anything from me. I told you Natalya was pregnant, and I think it damn near killed you. I was the cruelest sonofabitch I've ever known. I think I was getting even for every minute of your success, or every second you didn't spend with me. Six months later I was married to her, and you were still in Paris. You wouldn't speak to me, understandably. I came over a couple of times to see the kids, and you had them delivered to me at the Ritz by the nanny. It was total blackout from you. In fact, you didn't speak to me directly for two years, only through lawyers, secretaries, and nannies. You had a lot of all three. The bad joke was that two and a half years later, when you moved to L.A., you slowed down your career to a dull roar. You were still making movies, but fewer, and spending time with the kids. I could have lived with that, a lot better than your earlier pace. I never knew you'd do that. But I didn't have the balls to wait it out or ask you.

“Natalya had the baby two days after I married her, and another one a year later. She gave up her modeling career for those two years, and then told me she was bored to death. She left me and went back to modeling. She left the kids with me for a while, and then took them. She met some fabulously rich playboy, divorced me, and married him, and took me to the cleaners in the process. Don't ask me why, but I didn't bother to get a prenup. So she cashed in her chips and moved on. I didn't even see those kids for five years. She wouldn't let me. They were out of our jurisdiction, and she was floating all over Europe and South America, collecting husbands. It was basically high-end prostitution, and she's terrific at it. And meanwhile, I had destroyed you and our marriage.

“When you moved back to L.A., I kind of waited for the dust to settle, and eventually I came out to see you, allegedly to see the kids, but I came to see you. You had calmed down, and I told you what had happened. I was honest with you, and told you the truth as I saw it. I don't think I had the insight then that I have now, that I was jealous of your career and your stardom. I asked you to give it a shot with me again. I said it was for the kids' sake, but it was for mine. I still loved you. I still do,” he said simply. “I always have.

“I went totally nuts with that Russian girl. But you no longer wanted me when I asked you. I don't blame you. It doesn't get much worse than that. You were polite, gracious, and you very nicely told me to get fucked, in so many words. You said it was over for you, and I had destroyed all the feelings you'd had for me, that you had truly loved me, and you were sorry that your career had upset me so much, and you were gone so often. You said you would have slowed down if I asked you, although I'm not entirely sure that's true, in the early years anyway. You had a good head of steam up, and it would have been hard to let that go, at that point.

“So I went back to New York, and you stayed in L.A. Eventually, we got to be friends. The kids grew up. And we did too. You married Sean about four years after I came out to see you, and I was happy for you. He really was a good guy, and great to our kids. I was sad for you when he died. You deserved a man like that, a really good one, not a shit like I'd been to you. And then he died. I felt awful for you. And now here we are, we're friends. I'll be turning sixty next year. I've been smart enough never to marry again since Natalya. She lives in Hong Kong, and I see the girls twice a year. They treat me like a stranger, which I am. She's still beautiful, after a lot of surgery. Shit, she's only thirty-nine years old. The girls are seventeen and eighteen and very exotic looking. The child support I still pay for them could finance a small nation, but they have a pretty racy lifestyle. They're both modeling now. And Chloe and Anthony have never met them, which is probably just as well.

“So here we are. I'm sort of part brother, part friend, an ex-husband who still loves you, and I think you have a good life on your own. I've never had the feeling you regretted not coming back to me and giving me another chance, particularly once you met Sean. You don't need me, Carole. You have your own money, which I invested pretty well for you a long time ago, and you still ask me for advice now. We love each other in an odd way. I'll always be there for you, if you need me. And I suspect you'd do the same for me. It'll never be more than that now, but I have some incredible memories with you. I'll never forget them. I'm sad for you that you don't have that now, because we had some wonderful times. I hope you'll remember them again one day. I cherish every moment we spent together, and I'll never stop regretting the pain I put you through. I paid in spades for it, which I deserved.”

He had made a full confession to her, and listening to him, Carole was deeply touched. “I hope you forgive me one day. I think you already had. Long ago. There's no bitterness in our friendship now, no sharp edges. It all wore smooth over time, in part because of who you are. You have an enormous heart, you were a good wife to me, and you're a terrific mother to our kids. I'm grateful to you for that.” He fell silent then, and watched her, as she looked at him with deep compassion.

“You've been through a lot,” she said kindly. “Thank you for sharing all that with me. I'm sorry I wasn't smart enough to be the wife you needed me to be. We do such stupid things in our youth.” She felt very old after listening to him. The story had taken two hours to tell. She was tired, but she had a lot to think about. Nothing he had said had jarred her memory, but she had the strong impression he had tried to be fair, to both of them. The only one who had been lambasted in the tale was the Russian supermodel, but it sounded as though she deserved it. He had picked himself a major lemon, and he knew it. She was a dangerous young woman. Carole never had been, and had always tried to be loving and honest with him. He had made that clear to her. She had little to reproach herself for except working too hard and being away too often.

“I'm grateful you're still alive, Carole,” he said gently to her before he left, and she could tell he meant it. “It would have broken my heart, and our kids', if that bomb had killed you. I hope you get your memory back. But even if you don't, we all love you.”

“I know,” she said softly. She'd had proof of that from all of them, even him, though they were no longer married. “I love you too,” she said softly. He bent to kiss her cheek and then was gone.

He added something to her life, not just memories and information about the past, but a tender friendship that had a flavor all its own.





Chapter 10




After the Thanksgiving weekend, Jason and Anthony announced that they needed to go back to New York. And Chloe felt she had to get back to her job. Jake had also called her several times. There was nothing anyone could do for Carole, and they all knew she was out of danger. The rest of her recovery process was liable to be slow, and was a matter of time.

The children were coming to Los Angeles for Christmas, and she was expected to be out of the hospital and able to fly home by then, in another month. Carole invited Jason to join them for the holidays, and he accepted gratefully. It was an odd arrangement, but they felt like a family again, in some form. He was taking the kids to St. Bart's over New Year's after all, and invited her to come along, but she couldn't travel after she got back to L.A. The doctors didn't recommend it. She was still too fragile, and it was confusing for her. She wasn't walking yet, and with no memory, everything she did was harder work. She wanted to stay home once she got there. But she didn't want to deprive her children of the trip with their father. They had all been through so much since Carole's accident. She knew the vacation would be good for them.

Jason spent an hour alone with Carole on his last night in Paris, and said he knew it was too soon to talk about it, but he wondered if, once she recovered, she would be open to trying things with him again. She hesitated, still remembering none of their history, and she knew she had feelings of deep affection for him. She was grateful for the time he had just spent in Paris, and could see the good man he was. But she felt nothing more for him, and doubted that she would in time. She didn't want to lead him on, or encourage him to hope for something she couldn't give him. She had to concentrate on getting well now, becoming whole again, and she wanted to spend time with her children. She was in no condition to think about a man. And it sounded like their history was too complicated. They had come to a good place before her accident, and she didn't want to spoil or risk that again.