He drove to Paris on Friday night, and they spent a peaceful weekend together. He stayed for the fourteenth of July, and they watched the parade on the Champs Elysées. He thought it was fun but said he missed the Yankees. He also missed his kids. He had wanted to see them again before he left the States, but they were away on a trip with Beth, and he had promised to visit them again in September.

The gallery was always quiet in July, and she was looking forward to her vacation with the children. She said as little as possible about it to Liam, so as not to rub salt in his wounds about not being invited. Tatianna was finally speaking to her again, though barely. Sasha had talked to Xavier, and he had agreed with her that it was probably a better idea if Liam didn't join them on their vacation. More than likely, it would drive Tatianna right over the edge again, and result in a confrontation. Xavier had said as much to Liam, he told his mother. Tatianna wasn't being reasonable, and only time would help the situation. She was obsessed about Liam's existence in Sasha's life being a disrespect to her father.

On their last weekend before the trip, walking in the Bois de Boulogne with the dog, Liam turned to look at Sasha.

“What are you going to do about your vacation?” The question took her by surprise. She thought they had settled it, although neither of them liked the sacrifice they would be making. She wanted him along too, but it was out of the question. As it turned out, he had been waiting for her to change her mind, or Tatianna's. The fact that she hadn't, he interpreted and felt as the ultimate betrayal by Sasha. She was failing to defend him and stand by him. It seemed childish and unreasonable to her. But it was a deal-breaker to him.

“What do you mean? What am I going to do? I thought we agreed that it won't work this year.” If they stayed together, and she hoped they would, there would be other vacations. This one just wasn't going to work. She needed time to work things out with Tatianna.

“You're not going to confront her, are you?” Sasha sighed and looked up at him. His face looked like granite.

“Not now. I will later, if I have to. I hope I don't have to do that. She'll get used to the idea of us in time. Sometimes even adults have a hard time getting used to their parents dating other people.” Sasha attributed it to that and not the horrifying scene at the house in Southampton, which had certainly been an unpleasant way to introduce him to her daughter.

“She'll never accept me, if you don't make her.” He looked stubborn.

“She only started talking to me again last week,” Sasha said sadly. One of them was going to lose here. She didn't want it to be them. “I can't cram this down her throat, Liam. She needs time.”

“She's acting like a brat,” he said truthfully, but unkindly. Sasha knew it, too. But Tatianna was still her daughter. He said it with a nasty tone in his voice, which annoyed her.

“So are you,” she said softly. He walked away from her then, to play with the dog. On the drive home, he said nothing. He looked petulant and angry, a small boy furious with his mother. A man betrayed by his lover.

She was cooking dinner for them, when he came downstairs with his backpack in his hand and walked into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as fear darted up her spine. She knew before he answered.

“I'm leaving. I'm not going to be treated like a dirty little secret by you, and humiliated by your daughter.”

“Liam, please…,” she said, as panic filled her voice. “Give us a chance. We knew right from the beginning this would take time. And you're not a secret.” Tatianna knew, which was the problem.

“No, I'm a disgrace. You're ashamed of me.” They both thought of the Fourth of July barbecue when he said it, and Sasha didn't answer.

“I'm not ashamed of you. I love you. But you're asking me to choose between you and one of my children. That's not fair. Don't ask me to do that.” There were tears in her eyes when she said it. He was asking her to do the impossible for him, and dooming them if she didn't.

“That's what it takes sometimes. I need you to love and respect me. You don't.”

“If you loved and respected me, you wouldn't ask me to choose between you and my daughter.” He stood and looked at her and said nothing. And then finally he spoke again, as he picked up the backpack.

“It's over, Sasha. I'm done. We've used up all our tickets. You were right in the beginning. It is impossible. I guess it always was. I thought we could do it. I was wrong, and you were right.” She didn't want to be right. She wanted to be wrong. She wanted that more than ever. It felt as though they had come so close this time. Until he gave her this awful choice.

She started to come toward him, and he put up a hand to stop her. “Don't! I love you. I'm going back to London. Don't call me. It's over.” And then the final cruelty. “Give my best to Tatianna. Tell her she won.” Without another word, he walked out of her house. He closed the door quietly this time. She heard the big bronze outer door bang shut shortly after, as she stood alone in her kitchen, staring after him, at the spot where he had been standing only moments before, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She hadn't felt as terrible about anything or anyone since she lost Arthur.

She sat down on the kitchen floor, next to the dog, and stroked her as she sobbed. Socks was all she had left of him now. He was gone, back to his own life, and she knew he meant it this time.

She sat there crying for a long time in the dark kitchen. She didn't bother to turn on the lights. She just sat there, crying, and whispered one word into the darkness. “Impossible.” By then, Liam was on the road to London, convinced of the same thing.





Chapter 17




The time in St. Tropez would have been fun for her, if her heart hadn't been aching when they got there. Xavier knew instantly when he arrived and met her at the Byblos Hotel, where they were staying, that something terrible had happened. He hadn't seen her look like that since the awful time twenty-two months before, when his father died. Xavier had suspected as much when he ran into Liam in a pub the night before he left, with a beautiful young girl. Liam had been kissing her, and was extremely drunk. Xavier felt his heart drop into his stomach. He knew then it must have ended between Liam and his mother. Except for the single slip that led to his divorce, Liam was no cheater. If he was out with another woman, openly, it was over with Sasha.

“Did you two have a fight?” Xavier asked her quietly, as they had a Pernod on the terrace.

“He wanted me to have a showdown with Tatianna. I told him it was too early. He wanted to come on the vacation. Maybe he's right. But I'm not willing to jeopardize my relationship with her. He wanted too much too soon. I couldn't do it. She's not ready. I think this is about his history with his family. All his life they told him he wasn't good enough, and shut him out. He thought I was saying the same thing. I wasn't. I just wanted some time for Tati to calm down after Southampton. And this vacation was too soon.” He acted like a child sometimes, and they both knew it. He was, in some ways. A brilliant, talented child who acted out when he felt rejected. The worst part of it was that she knew she loved him. But she loved her daughter more.

“It was stupid of him,” Xavier said, looking annoyed. At twenty-six, he was a lot more mature than Liam. “I told him the same thing you did. All he had to do was relax, and give it time.”

“I guess he couldn't.” The echoes of his past were still too strong, and maybe always would be. At a certain age, people who loved each other had to accommodate each other's baggage, and if they couldn't, it didn't work. It hadn't for Liam.

Without thinking, Xavier glanced at his mother then. “I saw him the night before I left London. He was in a pub, drunk out of his mind. It didn't seem like the right time to ask him any questions, but I knew something had happened.” The way he said it told her more than he intended. As she looked into her son's eyes, she asked him a question that would tell her all she needed to know.

“Was he alone?” She could hardly get the words out. She felt a vise squeezing her chest, and Xavier didn't answer for what seemed like a long time, and then shook his head.

“He was with some stupid girl. He probably met her at the pub. It doesn't mean anything, Mom. He was drunk. I'm sure he didn't know her.” Xavier didn't tell her Liam had been kissing her, and she looked about twenty-two years old. But even with what he did say, she felt a knife go right through her heart. It really was over. After that, the rest of the trip was an agony for her. It would have been anyway. It wasn't Xavier's fault. Liam was gone. It was all she could think of.

They spent two weeks in St. Tropez, seeing friends, going to the beach and restaurants at night. They had lunch at Club 55. They had drinks at the Gorilla Bar, and once Tatianna arrived, she and Sasha checked out the shops. Sasha looked agonized from morning till night, and Tatianna didn't seem to notice. Neither of them ever mentioned Liam. And Xavier didn't dare bring him up again. He could see how miserable his mother was from the look in her eyes, even when she tried to be a good sport and pretend otherwise, which she did most of the time. And when she went to her room at night, she cried herself to sleep. She missed him beyond belief. She knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to bring him back. All she could do now was accept it. She couldn't call and invite him to St. Tropez. Tatianna would have walked out. Sasha didn't want to risk it.