They were invited out by friends several times, and Sasha agreed to go when they had children the age of her own, or were clients. But having to sit there and talk to people made her want to crawl out of her skin. She had never felt like that in her life. After Arthur's death, she had remained in seclusion for months. Now she was out in the world, pretending to be fine, which was almost unbearable for her. Nothing she did gave her relief. Day and night she ached for Liam, and knew she couldn't have him. She didn't call, and he never called her. Night after night she imagined him in bars, chasing young women. She felt half-crazed with grief by the time they got on the boat they'd chartered. It was a relief when they pulled up anchor, left St. Tropez, and headed out to sea.
Xavier and Tatianna had both invited friends, at her suggestion. They all enjoyed each other. She didn't need to entertain them. She could lie on deck with her eyes closed, near the bow of the boat, thinking of him, and aching with grief. She stayed on board when the young people went ashore at night. She said she didn't want to spoil their fun. In truth, she just didn't have the strength to talk to anyone. She needed time to grieve.
They went to Portofino, and she went ashore there for a short time. They had dinner at the Splendido, and she agreed to go with them that one time. But in spite of her best efforts, she looked so miserable that night that Tatianna asked her brother what was wrong with her after her mother went back to the boat, claiming a headache.
“Is Mom sick?” Tatianna asked, oblivious to the damage she had caused, or acting as though it had never happened. Xavier wasn't sure which.
“No,” Xavier said unhappily, “she's miserable. I haven't seen her like this since Dad died.” Tatianna didn't answer, as Xavier looked at her accusingly. “You made things awfully hard for her, Tat. She didn't deserve it. She and Liam broke up before she came to St. Tropez.” He was sad for both of them, and believed they genuinely loved each other, whatever their age. Liam had looked crazed too the night he saw him. He just expressed it differently than Sasha. He acted out, and she went inward with her grief. Tatianna showed no remorse when he said it.
“She's better off. He was a creep,” Tatianna said, and Xavier wanted to slap her.
“That's a rotten thing to say. Why would you want her to be miserable?” He was furious with his sister. “I told you, he's a nice guy, and he loves her. And obviously she loves him. What are you going to do now? Sit and keep her company? Hell, no. You have your own life. So do I, and she's alone again.” He was livid, and distraught for his mother.
“She loves Daddy,” Tatianna said stubbornly.
“She did. Now she loves Liam.”
“She was making a fool of herself, and he was probably laughing at her anyway. Besides, it was a shitty thing to do to Dad.”
“She didn't do anything to Dad. He's dead, Tat. He's not coming back. She has a right to have a life, whether you approve or not. The reason they broke up is because she didn't want to upset you, and invite him here. You owe her an apology. Maybe it's not too late for her to fix it. They love each other. They have a right to that. And you don't have a right to interfere.”
“I don't want her to fix it,” Tatianna said, looking devastated.
“After everything she does for us, how can you be so selfish?” He wanted to strangle his sister for her attitude and lack of compassion for their mother, who was obviously suffering the agonies of the damned over Liam, which more than convinced Xavier of how much she loved him.
“Maybe I did her a favor.”
“You should have your ass kicked. He's right, you are a brat.”
“Is that what he said?” She looked furious again when he said it. “He stood there with his dick hanging out, ready to club me, after screwing our mother,” she said in what she felt was righteous outrage. Xavier just thought she was being a bitch, and said so, which only made her madder.
“You're disgusting. Maybe he should have clubbed you. You deserve it,” Xavier said angrily. Tatianna stomped off in a huff after that, and Sasha noticed the next day that they weren't speaking to each other. She had no idea why. It didn't even occur to her that they had been arguing over her and Liam. Xavier was even nicer to his mother after that, and Tatianna was more pleasant. She was relieved to know that Liam was out of the picture, and considered it a blessing. She never said anything about him to her mother, and Sasha had decided not to bring it up and upset her again. There was no point now. He was gone. And it hurt too much to talk about it.
They had a nice time on the boat, in spite of Sasha's miseries, and they were all sorry when they pulled into port in Monaco. They had a last dinner on board. The young people went to the casino that night, and Sasha went to bed early. The next morning, they all left. Tatianna flew back to New York, Xavier to London with promises to visit his mother in Paris soon, and Sasha caught a flight to Paris, after the young people had left. It had been a long three weeks for her. She had enjoyed her children, but she was relieved to go home, and crawl into bed with Socks. The house in Paris seemed incredibly quiet and lonely when she got back.
She had nothing to look forward to now, except work, which had kept her going before, after Arthur died. But this seemed harder. When Arthur died, she had no choice but to accept it and adjust, however hard. There was no other option. Now, knowing that Liam was alive and well, working in his studio, and probably chasing young women, it was harder still. There was always the remote chance that he might call her, or come back again, except she knew he wouldn't. He was far too stubborn, and she knew how betrayed he felt over her refusing to confront her daughter. It opened too many old wounds of abandonment and betrayal for him, and she knew he wouldn't get over it. She knew him better than that, and she was right.
She had mentioned to Bernard on her first day back to work that if Liam called, she wanted him to handle it for her. She wasn't going to take his calls. She knew he might call the gallery about his upcoming show at some point, and she couldn't face talking to him. It was too painful.
“Is something wrong?” Bernard asked, with a look of concern. She didn't look well, despite her long vacation. Beneath the tan she'd gotten on the boat, he could see that underneath her eyes were dark circles, and she looked strained. He also thought that she'd lost weight, and she had.
“No.” She started to say something, and then decided to be honest. “It's over.” Her eyes looked grim.
“Oh.” He didn't know what else to say as he looked at her. He could see how unhappy she was. It was in direct proportion to how happy she had been only months before with Liam. “Are we still doing his show in New York?” Bernard wondered.
“Of course. We're his dealers,” she said, sounding professional, and then walked silently into her office and closed the door. The subject of Liam was as closed as the door.
Eugénie noticed how quiet she was too. When Sasha went to New York in September to curate a show, Marcie was worried about her. Sasha steeled herself not to cry when she told her it had ended with Liam. It had been two months now. She felt as though she had been crawling on her stomach across barbed wire since July. She looked exhausted now that her tan had faded. Marcie thought she looked awful, which was how she felt. Everything reminded her of him, everything seemed empty to her without him. Her bed in Paris was too big. The one in New York was an agony. The doorman asked her how he was. As careful as they had been not to tell anyone, everyone asked for him now. Everybody loved him. And worse yet, so did she. Only Tatianna didn't. She never even acknowledged that she knew he was out of her mother's life. In exchange, Xavier called her often, and she always enjoyed talking to her son.
Xavier had seen Liam several times, but he didn't tell his mother that. He didn't mention him at all. Each time he'd seen him, Liam was with a different woman. He seemed to be making up for lost time, and talked a lot about his divorce. He never mentioned Sasha, which made Xavier suspect that he was still in love with her too. His not mentioning her seemed too odd.
Xavier spent a weekend in Paris with her in October. The weather was beautiful, and they had dinner at Le Voltaire, which they both loved. She looked better by then. She had just gotten back from Amsterdam and had signed two new artists. She didn't mention it to Xavier, but she was steeling herself to go to New York for Liam's show. It was still six weeks off. She knew she had six weeks to get strong enough to see him, and not react at all, no matter how she felt. She had decided to be professional about it. She was his dealer after all. Xavier had seen his recent work, and said it was very good. Bernard had flown to London to see his new pieces too. He was very pleased, and thought Sasha would be too.
The show was on December 1st. Sasha and the children had agreed to meet in New York for Thanksgiving, since she had to be at the New York gallery on the Monday after. She was going to curate the show over the weekend. Thanksgiving in Paris never made any sense. It would be more fun for all of them to celebrate it in New York.
Xavier saw Liam just before he left for New York. He stopped by his studio, and there was a young woman there. Xavier had no idea if she was his new girlfriend or not. She looked about twenty-five, and Xavier just prayed he wouldn't take her to New York. It would kill his mother if he did, and he hoped Liam had the good taste not to do that to her, although they both had the right to pursue their own lives now, in whatever ways worked for them. But Xavier knew how painful it would be for his mother to see Liam with another woman. She wasn't seeing anyone. Xavier had asked her over dinner at Le Voltaire, her eyes had filled with tears, and she just shook her head. He didn't mention it again. He had the frightening feeling she had just given up. At forty-nine, it seemed an incredible waste to him, but she seemed to have withdrawn into herself, except when she was at work. The gallery seemed to be the only thing that could distract her, and he was grateful for that.
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