“You’re too sexy to be a madonna.” He was surprised they were including him in the interview, with his mother-in-law as editor-in-chief, but he was a big name. They were assigning one of their most important photographers and had begged Nicolas to participate. They wanted to do it at the rented house in Ramatuelle, and Pascale had agreed without consulting him. They wanted photographs of them together. “I’ll come down on Monday, the day before the interview. I’ll give them a few minutes, but I won’t do the whole interview with you.” He couldn’t do that to Nadia, and he didn’t want to. “I need to do some work this week,” he said, sounding stressed. He had hardly written a word in the last two months. His new novel was half finished, sitting on a shelf. He couldn’t concentrate on anything these days except Pascale and Nadia. “Nadia and the girls are leaving for L.A. in a few days, so I can stay down South with you for the next few weeks.” He felt like a bouncing ball.
She reminded him that she was going to the wedding at the Hotel du Cap the next day, hoping to make him jealous, but he wasn’t.
They hung up and he went back into the house then, feeling depressed about the situation. They had bought sausages, fruit, and salad for a simple country dinner. Nadia and the girls were in their rooms when he walked in. He was staying in a small study off the main bedroom, but the girls had no idea he wasn’t sleeping in the master bedroom. He wondered if Nadia was right, and it wasn’t fair to keep things hidden from them. He kept hoping there would be some kind of resolution, but there wasn’t. It unnerved him that Nadia had seen an attorney. This was the first he had heard of it. He had gone to a lawyer to make sure he didn’t make any glaring legal mistakes that would deal a final death blow to their marriage. Nadia had gone to see a lawyer to find out what those mistakes were and what grounds she had to end the marriage. Their goals were no longer the same. They were in direct conflict, like everything about their life.
Nadia and Nicolas were quiet at dinner, and the girls chattered on. Laure wanted to decorate a shoebox with the seashells she’d collected, to make it a jewelry box for her mother. And Sylvie wanted to know how soon they would go to Disneyland after they got to L.A. They provided some distraction during the meal. Their father took them outside to throw a ball with them afterwards, and Nadia went to her room. She called Venetia in Southampton, who said it was blistering hot there, wished Nadia a happy Bastille Day, and asked how things were going with Nicolas there for the weekend.
“He’s making me crazy. He still acts like we’re a happy family and tells me he loves me every five minutes. I don’t want to hear it, and I don’t think this is good for the girls.” Or for her either. And Nicolas seemed nervous too. It was putting pressure on both of them, and the tension was palpable. Nadia was worried that the girls were sensing it too.
“He probably does love you,” Venetia said simply. “He just wants to have both of you for now. He can’t do that forever, and sooner or later it’s going to blow up in his face. She may walk out on him before you do. By the way, Ben and I talked about it last night. We can come for a week in August if you really want us. Three jet-propelled kids does not make for a restful week,” she reminded her sister, and Nadia smiled.
“I’d love it. And so will the girls.” The cousins loved being together. Venetia and Olivia tried to get their children together as often as possible, and Nadia made sure that her daughters saw their cousins every summer. They wanted the next generation to be as close as the four sisters were.
“When do you go back to Paris?” Venetia asked her.
“Tomorrow night, at the end of the weekend. I can’t wait. I’m fed up with playing this game of happy family when our life is in shambles at our feet. We leave for L.A. on Tuesday. I’m looking forward to that.” They had planned a week after that in the Hamptons. And they were going to visit Rose at the magazine. Olivia and her family were in Maine for two months, so they wouldn’t see them. It was too long a trip for Nadia and the girls, a six-hour drive from New York.
After the call to Venetia, the girls came in and Nadia put them to bed. They were happy after the day with their parents and they loved being at the château. They had freedom there and could run around, and they were enjoying the time with their father.
After she put them to bed, Nadia went for a walk by herself and ran into Nicolas when she got back. He looked sad, as though he’d been crying.
“I’m sorry I’ve made such a mess of everything,” he said in a low, raw voice, and she could see he was, but she didn’t want to fall prey to his charms. He was the only man she had ever loved and she wanted to forget that. “I want to fix it, but it’s like finding my way out of a maze right now.” She nodded but didn’t know what to say to him.
“I think we need to be away from each other, until we figure it out, and decide what to do,” she said softly.
“I don’t want to lose you, Nadia. Whatever it takes, I want to come back.” In truth he had never left, not fully. But he was afraid he had lost her anyway. There was something dead in her eyes when she looked at him, and he couldn’t blame her, after what he had done. He felt deep remorse about it, but he wasn’t sure that would ever be enough. “Please don’t make any big decisions while you’re gone. Give me a little more time.” She didn’t answer him, and a minute later, she went upstairs to her room and closed the door. She didn’t want to make him any promises she couldn’t keep.
Nicolas spent Sunday night with them at their apartment when they got back to Paris. They were both subdued after the weekend. It had reminded him of everything he had risked and was about to lose. And Nadia didn’t want to talk to him about it again.
First thing Monday morning, he took a commuter flight to the South of France from Orly. And it was no secret to either of them where he was going. Pascale was waiting for him in Ramatuelle, and the Mode interview was the next day.
Nadia had to go to her office, and left the girls with their babysitter, and that night they showed her all the things they wanted to take with them to L.A., their favorite shorts and T-shirts, Laure’s light-up sneakers, and Sylvie’s sneakers that she said were “cool.” Nadia packed for all three of them and the girls were excited about the trip.
Nicolas called them the next morning. Nadia was too busy to talk to him, and he wished the girls a wonderful time in the States. They promised to FaceTime with him while they were away, a miracle of modern technology which allowed them to show him everything and see each other while they talked. He was disappointed not to speak to Nadia before they left. Their weekend together had made him miss her more, and he’d been irritable with Pascale when he got back, but was really only angry with himself. He had created the hell he and Nadia were living in.
Nadia and the girls left for the airport in a flurry of activity, and were right on time. Nadia sat back in the van, trying to figure out if she had forgotten to pack anything, although it was too late now. But everything was in order and she had made careful lists. She put an arm around each of her daughters with a smile.