few months. She’d had a temporary furnished rental apartment in Paris she didn’t like, and it was going to be too small for her and the baby, so she had given it up.
“Yes, I am serious,” Nadia answered him. “I don’t think it’s healthy for us to live together, or for you to stay here a few nights a week. If you have your own life, you should have your own place. It’s misleading and confusing for them and for us if you stay here.” Now that they knew about Pascale and the baby, she felt more comfortable asking him to move out.
He nodded reluctantly. He was in no position to argue with her. “I’ll call a realtor tomorrow. Are you still going to see the lawyer?” he asked her cautiously.
“Yes, I am. I think he’s back from vacation next week. I just want to establish some ground rules for both of us to follow.” They had actually been managing well without them, but he dropped by whenever he wanted, without warning. Lately, he had been calling first, but not always. He still felt as though he lived with them.
“I’ll be in Brittany for a couple of weeks in October,” he said, and they both knew why, although he didn’t say it. He was going to be there for his son’s birth. But it didn’t sound as though he would be seeing him regularly, if Pascale was planning to leave him with her mother. That way she wouldn’t have to hire a nanny or worry about him. She joked about it and said she had never liked babysitting when she was younger, which shocked Nicolas. And yet she had wanted the baby, like a doll to play with when it suited her.
Thinking about it made Nadia realize how difficult it would be to go back to him, if she had wanted to. They would always have his son as a reminder of his affair with Pascale, even if they were no longer together. The child would be a living reminder of the hearts that had been broken when he came into the world. She felt sorry for the baby, with an absentee mother and a father who had another family he felt closer to. She wondered if Nicolas would fall in love with him, as he had with their girls. He had been crazy about them when they were born. Maybe he would with this one too, since he was a boy.
“Where are you staying now?” she asked Nicolas before he left, since she knew that Pascale was still in Ramatuelle.
“I’m staying with a friend. And I’m going to move to a hotel. It seems less complicated.” She nodded, and didn’t feel guilty about it. It was necessary, and a natural consequence of his actions. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, until he turned around and looked at her right before he left. “I still love you, you know,” he said softly. She didn’t know what to say at first.
“That’s too bad for both of us,” she said. She knew he missed the apartment, their shared lifestyle, and their daughters. She wasn’t convinced he missed her. “You’ll get used to it. We both will. It’s a big change for all of us,” she responded quietly.
“I’m not so sure I will get used to it. I’ve made some terrible mistakes in the last several months,” he said.
“Let’s not talk about it now,” she said. She was tired and didn’t want to dredge it all up again. “It happened. Now we have to live with it.” Forever, she thought. “Good night.” She walked to her room, and a minute later, she heard the front door close behind him.
* * *
—
The September issue of Mode came out, as it always did, in the last week of August. It sat on the corner of Rose’s desk, and she didn’t handle it with pride this time. She always loved the look of the thick magazine, with all its wonders. She was usually so proud of it, and it represented such a huge collaboration and so much work and inspiration. This time, she cringed every time she saw it. It pained her almost physically to see Pascale Solon on the cover. She was wearing a ruby red evening gown, extraordinary makeup, and the photograph itself was a work of art. The girl on the cover was a beauty, almost like a gem herself. And the photographs taken in Ramatuelle were inside the magazine,