Impossible Page 0,110

was relax, and give it time.”

“I guess he couldn't.” The echoes of his past were still too strong, and maybe always would be. At a certain age, people who loved each other had to accommodate each other's baggage, and if they couldn't, it didn't work. It hadn't for Liam.

Without thinking, Xavier glanced at his mother then. “I saw him the night before I left London. He was in a pub, drunk out of his mind. It didn't seem like the right time to ask him any questions, but I knew something had happened.” The way he said it told her more than he intended. As she looked into her son's eyes, she asked him a question that would tell her all she needed to know.

“Was he alone?” She could hardly get the words out. She felt a vise squeezing her chest, and Xavier didn't answer for what seemed like a long time, and then shook his head.

“He was with some stupid girl. He probably met her at the pub. It doesn't mean anything, Mom. He was drunk. I'm sure he didn't know her.” Xavier didn't tell her Liam had been kissing her, and she looked about twenty-two years old. But even with what he did say, she felt a knife go right through her heart. It really was over. After that, the rest of the trip was an agony for her. It would have been anyway. It wasn't Xavier's fault. Liam was gone. It was all she could think of.

They spent two weeks in St. Tropez, seeing friends, going to the beach and restaurants at night. They had lunch at Club 55. They had drinks at the Gorilla Bar, and once Tatianna arrived, she and Sasha checked out the shops. Sasha looked agonized from morning till night, and Tatianna didn't seem to notice. Neither of them ever mentioned Liam. And Xavier didn't dare bring him up again. He could see how miserable his mother was from the look in her eyes, even when she tried to be a good sport and pretend otherwise, which she did most of the time. And when she went to her room at night, she cried herself to sleep. She missed him beyond belief. She knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to bring him back. All she could do now was accept it. She couldn't call and invite him to St. Tropez. Tatianna would have walked out. Sasha didn't want to risk it.

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