“Was it the holiday?” She shook her head. She didn't know what to say to him, but she knew now that she wanted to share it with him. She walked over to where she had left her handbag, pulled out An-drea's letter, and handed it to him. He hesitated, holding it, wanting to ask her if she was sure she wanted him to read it, but he could see that she was. She sat down across from him at the table, with her head in her hands, as he began to read. It didn't take him long.

And when he had finished, he looked at her, and said not a word. Her eyes were bottomless pools of pain, and now he knew why. He reached out and took her hand, and they sat that way for a long time. As she had, he had figured out that the letter was from Andrea, and the baby was Ted's. It wasn't hard to figure out. But a great deal harder to live with, and understand. The cruelty of the timing was excruciating, that she should find out now after his death, and to learn that Andrea had used Chad to coerce Ted, if he even needed to be coerced.

It took Matt a long time to speak. “You don't know what he would have done. The letter makes it pretty clear that he hadn't made up his mind.” It was small consolation now. He had still had the affair with her best friend, and fathered her child.

“That's what she said,” Ophélie said, feeling wooden again. Her whole body felt like it was made of lead.

“You talked to her?” He looked stunned.

“I went to see her. I told her I never wanted to lay eyes on her again, and I don't. I never will. She's dead to me now, just like Ted and Chad. And I guess our marriage was dead too. I just didn't want to see it, just like he didn't want to know that Chad was sick. I had denial too. We were all stupid and blind, each in our own way.”

“You loved him. That's allowed. And in spite of this, he probably loved you too.”

“I'll never know now.” That was the worst of it. The letter had robbed her of the belief that Ted had loved her. It was a cruel trick.

“You have to believe he did. A man doesn't spend twenty years with a woman if he doesn't love her. He may have been flawed, but I'm sure he loved you, Ophélie. In spite of this.”

“He might have left me for her.” Although, knowing Ted, she wasn't sure, not even because he had loved her, but he didn't love anyone that much. Except himself. He might have left Andrea with his baby, and done nothing for her. It would have been possible for him. But it still did not mean that he had loved his wife. Perhaps he had loved neither of them, that was entirely possible too. “He had another affair years ago,” she told Matt in a stifled voice. She had forgiven him. She would have forgiven him anything. Until now. And this time they could not fix it, or talk about it, or explain. She had to live with it this time, all by herself. There would be no repairing it this time. The fabric of their entire life together had been torn to shreds in a single night, with one letter, and a betrayal by a friend. Damage beyond repair. “He had the affair when Chad first got sick. I think he hated me for that. That was his revenge. Or his escape. Or the only way he could cope. He did it while I was in France with Pip. I don't think he cared about the woman. But it nearly killed me. It was a lot happening at once. But he stopped seeing her. I forgave him. I always did. I forgave him everything. All I ever wanted was to love him and be his wife.” And all he had ever loved was himself. Matt could see it clearly, but didn't say a word to her. She had to come to her own conclusions and be able to live with them. Matt didn't want to wound her any more than she was. And the damage to her was so great, he didn't want to hurt her more. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Ophélie or Pip.

“You may have to let this go,” Matt said wisely. “It's only going to hurt you. He's out of it now. This isn't about him anymore, it's about you.”

“They destroyed everything, the two of them. Even from the grave, he managed to destroy our life.” It had been stupid of him to keep the letter and to leave it where she might find it. It made Matt wonder if he had wanted to get caught. Maybe he was counting on that to make her leave him. It was painful to imagine the drama that would have caused, and had, finally.

“What are you going to say to Pip?”

“Nothing. She doesn't need to know. This is between Ted and me, even now. At some point, I'll tell her that we won't be seeing Andrea anymore. I'll have to think of some reason to give her, or maybe just tell her that it's something I'll explain to her later on. She knows something terrible happened last night, but she doesn't know that Andrea was part of it. I didn't tell her where I went when I went out.”

“That was a good thing.” He was still holding her hand, and he wanted to put his arms around her, but he was afraid that she couldn't even tolerate that. She looked so broken and frail, like a little bird with both its wings broken, not even one.

“I think I lost my mind last night, or nearly did. I'm sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to burden you with this.”

“Why not? You know how much I care about you and Pip.” Or maybe she didn't. He had only just begun to realize it himself, and he knew it now as he looked at her. He had never cared about anyone as much in his life, except his kids. Which reminded him of what he hadn't told her yet. “Something happened to me yesterday,” he said softly, still holding her hand. “Although I unearthed a terrible betrayal too. I had a visitor yesterday, for Thanksgiving. It's the first real Thanksgiving I've had in years.”

“Who was it?” She tried to emerge from her misery to listen to him.

“My son.” He told her what had happened then as her eyes grew wide.

“I can't believe she did that to you, and her own kids. Didn't she think they'd ever find out?” She looked horrified. They had both been betrayed horrifyingly by people they had trusted and loved. It was the worst kind of betrayal of all. And she wasn't sure which was worse. It was a close match.

“Apparently not. She must have thought they'd forget me, or assume I was dead. They nearly did forget me. Robert and Vanessa both said they thought I was dead. He tried to find me, to be sure. And was amazed to find me very much alive. He's a great kid. I want you and Pip to meet him soon. Maybe we could spend Christmas together,” he said hopefully. He was already making plans.

“No more Bah Humbug?” she said with a smile, and he laughed.

“Not this year. And I'm going to fly over to see Vanessa in Auckland very soon.”

“How wonderful for you, Matt,” she said, squeezing his hand, and with that, Pip walked in, and smiled when she saw them holding hands. She took it to mean something other than it did, but was pleased.

“Can I come back yet?” she asked, as Mousse bounded in and got sand all over Matt's living room, but he insisted he didn't mind.

“I was just going to suggest to your mom that we go for a walk on the beach. Do you want to come?”

“Do I have to?” she asked, installing herself on the couch, looking tired. “I'm cold.”

“That's fine. We won't be long.” He looked at Ophélie then, and she nodded. She wanted to go for a walk too.

They put on their coats and went outside, and he put an arm around her and pulled her close. She suddenly seemed even smaller and so frail. They walked down the beach, and she leaned against him, as though for support. He was the only friend she had left, the only person she still trusted, and knew she could. She no longer knew what to believe about her marriage or her late husband. She no longer knew what to think or believe about anyone, but him. And she was so distressed over all that had happened, and what it meant, that they walked all the way down the beach together, with his arm tightly around her, and said not a word. It was enough just being with him.





22

MATT WENT TO SEE HIS SON THE MONDAY AFTER Thanksgiving, and stopped in to see Pip and Ophélie on the way home. Pip had just come home from school, and Ophélie had taken the day off from work. She was too upset to think. And she felt as though her whole life had changed. She had made a decision that morning to get rid of Ted's clothes. It was her way of throwing him out of the house, and punishing him posthumously for what he'd done. It was the only revenge she had left, but she also knew it would be good for her. She had to move on. She couldn't hang on forever to a man who had betrayed her and fathered another woman's child. She knew now that she was hanging on to her illusions and a lifetime of dreams. It was time to wake up, no matter how alone it made her feel.

She told Matt when Pip went to her room to do her homework, and he was afraid to say too much. He didn't want to tell her that he thought her late husband was a sonofabitch. It didn't seem fair. She had to come to those conclusions herself. And it was hard to let go now in death, after she had been willing to forgive him so much in life. She had been willing to tolerate almost anything from him. But Matt was pleased to see her making different decisions now, and silently approved.

And while he was there, he made a date with her for her birthday the following week. And as always, he included Pip. He always did. And always had, right from the first. After all, he and Pip had been friends first, as she often pointed out, which made him smile. It was true.

But he had picked a slightly more grown-up restaurant than usual for her birthday night. He wanted to take her somewhere special. She deserved a reward for all the misery Ted and Andrea had just put her through. And she told him that she'd had a letter from Andrea, which had been delivered by messenger that afternoon. It was a letter of abject apology, in which Andrea told her that she didn't expect to be forgiven, but wanted her to know how much she had loved her, and how sorry she was. For Ophélie, it was too late, and she said as much to Matt.