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.