The next morning all five of them left the house together, and stood on line for the lifts. Robert wanted to ski with some friends from college he'd run into, Vanessa took off with Pip, and Matt offered to stay with Ophélie.

“I don't want to hold you back,” she said cautiously, wearing a black ski suit she'd had for years, but it looked simple and elegant on her. She wore it with a big fur hat, and looked very glamorous to him. But she insisted that her skill on the slopes was not equal to the ski suit.

“Believe me, you won't hold me back,” he reassured her. “I haven't skied for five years. I came up here for the kids. You'll be doing me a favor, you may have to rescue me.” But as it turned out, they were equally matched, and enjoyed a morning of gentle skiing on the intermediate slopes. It was all either of them wanted, and by lunchtime, they were waiting in the restaurant for the kids, who arrived minutes later, looking red-faced and athletic. Pip looked ecstatic as she pulled off her cap and gloves. She was having a ball, and Vanessa looked happy too. She had seen some cute boys, and they had followed her on the slopes. But mostly, she just thought it was in good fun. She didn't appear to be out of control, or wild, unlike her mother at the same age.

The kids skied all afternoon, and Matt and Ophélie enjoyed one long run. And when it started to snow, they went home. Matt lit the fire and put the music on, and Ophélie made them both hot toddies with rum. They settled back on the couch with a stack of magazines and books, and looked up and smiled at each other from time to time. Ophélie was amazed by how easy it was to be with him. Ted had been so much more difficult and demanding, and anxious and argumentative about nearly everything. She commented on the difference to Matt. Their match was a blend of comfort, barely concealed passion, and deep affection. And in addition, they were best friends.

“I like this too,” he said easily, and he decided to tell her then about the last time he'd seen Sally.

“You didn't feel anything for her?” Ophélie asked, taking a sip of the hot rum and watching him for clues. She had been worried about Sally for a while, particularly since she'd been widowed.

“A lot less than I expected to, or was afraid I would. I was afraid I would have to fight her off, in my head if nowhere else. And it wasn't like that. It seemed sad and funny, and everything that had always been wrong between us. All she wanted was to manipulate me to get what she wanted, and instead of being in love with her, I felt sorry for her. She's a very sad woman. Not to mention the fact that her husband of nearly ten years had been dead for less than a month. Loyalty isn't one of Sally's strong suits.”

“I guess not.” Ophélie was a little shocked by the brazenness of what she'd done, after all the pain she had caused him. But she didn't seem to suffer from guilt either. Most of all, Ophélie was relieved. “Why didn't you tell me you'd seen her?” He told her so many things about his life that it seemed odd that he hadn't.

“I think I needed to sort it out after it happened. But I walked out of that room a free man, for the first time in ten years. Going to see her was one of the best things I've ever done.” He looked pleased with himself, as he looked at Ophélie, and she smiled at him.

“I'm glad,” Ophélie said quietly, wishing that her own feelings about her marriage could be as easily resolved. But there was no one to see, no one to talk to, no one to rail at, or argue with, or cry on, or explain to her why it had happened, or why he had done what he'd done. The only choice she had was to resolve it herself, with time, in solitude and silence.

When the kids came home from skiing, Ophélie cooked dinner that night, and then they all sat around telling stories by the fire. Vanessa talked about her many boyfriends in Auckland, while Pip looked at her admiringly, and Robert teased them both. It was a comfortable family scene that touched both of the adults' hearts. It was what Matt had longed for, for all the years that his children had been gone, and what Ophélie missed so much now that Ted and Chad were gone. There was a wholeness to it, a normalcy that came from being two adults, surrounded by three children, laughing and sitting by a fire. It was what neither of them had ever really had in their previous lives, but always wanted.

“Nice, isn't it?” Matt smiled at her, as they met in the kitchen, while she put some cookies on a plate for the kids, and he poured a glass of wine for Ophélie and himself.

“Very nice,” she said, smiling at him. By most of the world's standards, and even theirs, it was a dream come true. And all Matt wanted was for it to last forever. He knew she had issues to wrestle with, and fears to overcome, just as he did, but he wanted them both to come to the same conclusions and find each other at the end. But he was ever cautious with her. He knew how skittish she was. Better than anyone. Because he knew, or at least as much as she did, what Ted had done. It was almost as bad as if he had put a curse on her, or damned her, or condemned her to distrust for the rest of her life. And no one knew better than Matt what a curse that was. But at least they were free of it for the moment, in their safe little world in Tahoe.

They went to a nearby restaurant for dinner on New Year's Eve, and then stopped in at a hotel to see the festivities there. People were wearing ski clothes and big, bright sweaters, and only a few, like Ophélie, were wearing fur. She looked very chic in a black velvet jumpsuit, with a black fox jacket over it, and a matching hat.

“You look like a black mushroom, Mom,” Pip said to her mother with a disapproving look. But Vanessa pronounced the outfit “cool.” And Ophélie would have worn it anyway. She was impervious to Pip's more conservative fashion advice, and Matt loved the way she looked. No matter what she wore, or how well she spoke English, Ophélie always looked very French. It was either a scarf she wore, or a pair of earrings, or an old Hermès bag on a strap over her shoulder that she had owned since she was nineteen. But somehow the bits and pieces she extracted from her closet, and the way she wore them, always gave her nationality away.

And in light of her origins, and the atmosphere of the surroundings, she let Pip have a glass of champagne on New Year's Eve. Matt did the same with Vanessa, and although he wasn't of legal drinking age, since Robert wasn't driving, Matt offered his son some wine. He seemed to handle it fairly well, and his father was sure that legal or not, he did his share of drinking at Stanford just like everyone else. He was a reasonable young man.

They were in the lodge at the hotel when the clock struck midnight, and all of them kissed each other, French style on both cheeks, and wished each other a Happy New Year. It wasn't until they got home, and the kids had gone to bed an hour later, that Matt kissed her with more passion. They were alone in the living room by then, cuddled together in front of a dying fire, but the room was still warm. It had been a nice night. Especially for the kids, who seemed to be getting along extremely well, but so were they. Matt had never been as happy in his life, and Ophélie felt remarkably at peace. Despite everything she'd been through in recent months, and even the past year, she could feel the burdens that had rested on her for so long slowly fall away from her, one by one.

“Happy?” Matt asked her as he held her close to him. They were whispering in the dark room, lit only by the fire, and they were both sure that all the kids were asleep by then. Pip was once again in Vanessa's room. The two had become fast friends. And Pip looked up to the older girl like the big sister she'd never had and wished she did. And Vanessa's only siblings, both older and younger, were boys, so it was a nice change for her too.

“Very happy,” Ophélie answered softly. She was always happy with him. She felt protected and safe and loved in his world. She had a sense that no harm could come to her as long as she was with him. And all he wanted was to protect her, shield her from all the agonies she'd been through, and put balm on her many wounds. The prospect of that didn't daunt him.

He kissed her again then, and they gently and quietly explored each other more than they ever had before. And as she felt his hands roving slowly over her, she realized how hungry for him she was. It was as though everything about her as a woman had died in the past fourteen months, since Ted had died, and she was coming alive again slowly in Matt's hands. And he was overwhelmed with desire for her. They sat there together for a long time, and then lay on the couch, their bodies and limbs intertwined, until he finally whispered to her.

“We're going to get ourselves into trouble if we stay out here for much longer.” She giggled in answer, feeling like a young girl again for the first time in years. It took him all the courage he could muster to ask her the next question, but the time seemed to be right, finally, for both of them. “Do you want to come to my room?” he whispered in her ear, and she nodded, as his heart nearly broke with relief. He had wanted this for so long, wanted her, more than he had even dared admit to himself.

They both stood up and he took her by the hand, and led her to his room, as they both tiptoed on silent feet. Ophélie nearly laughed, there was something so funny about hiding from their children, but everyone in the house was asleep. And as soon as they were in Matt's room, he closed the door behind them and locked it, and then swept her up in his arms and walked her to the bed, where he gently set her down. And a moment later, he was lying next to her.

“I love you so much, Ophélie,” he whispered, with the moonlight streaming into the room. It was cozy and warm as they kissed and undressed each other, and within seconds they were under the sheets. And ever so gently, he reached out to her. He could feel her trembling next to him, and all he wanted to do was make her feel happy and loved.