Danielle Steel - The Kiss

“Is he still in your life?” He had no right to know, but she told him anyway. He was staggered that she knew about Louise, and had never said a word to him.

“No, he's not. But I gather the countess is very much in yours. I assume she was in Italy with you.” He didn't admit it to Isabelle, but her assumption was accurate, and a number of people knew it. “I've been told she can't or won't marry you until her husband dies. That must be difficult for you. And what were you planning to do with me then, Gordon? How were you planning to get rid of me, other than shipping me off to Grenoble to stay with Sophie?”

“You're insane! You're deranged by the loss of your son. I won't listen to this nonsense.” Gordon looked like he was about to walk out. He did not want to hear another word from her.

“No,” she said calmly. “I'm heartbroken, but not insane. I must have been though not to see what you were doing for all these years. You weren't even sleeping here, and I was too stupid to know it, because you were so busy terrorizing me. Well, those days are over.”

“Get out of my house!” he barked at her. He was shaking with fury.

“I will, but not until I'm ready to. And in the meantime, I suggest you stay with her.” He stormed out of her bedroom then, and a moment later she heard him slam the front door. It had been an incredible scene, and she suddenly realized he had walked out on her, and she didn't even care. It was as though losing Teddy had finally freed her. She had lost so much when she lost Teddy and Bill, she had absolutely nothing to lose anymore, except Sophie. And in leaving, Gordon had released her from the misery and lies they had shared for far too many years.

“What did he say to you, Mom?” Sophie asked quietly. Isabelle hadn't seen her slip into her room. She had come in after her father left, and she looked frightened. She had never heard them fight like that in her entire life.

“It's not important,” Isabelle said, sitting down on her bed again. She felt shaken, but relieved.

“It is important,” Sophie said. “Mom, he's horrible to you. He's my father, and I love him, but I don't want him to be mean to you anymore.” Particularly today, after Teddy's funeral, it was outrageous.

As she looked at her daughter, Isabelle suddenly realized all that had just happened. “He just told me to move out.” She was oddly quiet and composed as she said it. And Sophie needed to know what had happened.

“Do you have to do that?” Sophie's eyes were enormous in her face, and Isabelle thought about it. Sophie looked terrified, but Isabelle did not. She was strangely calm.

“I suppose I do. It's his house.” Their marriage had ended on the day of Teddy's funeral, which was right somehow. It was over at last.

“Where will you go?” There were tears in Sophie's eyes.

“I suppose I'll get an apartment. I should have done it a long time ago, but I couldn't have taken care of Teddy without his help.” Sophie nodded, as Isabelle understood that everything was ending around her. She had lost so much. Teddy, Bill, her home, her marriage. Everything she had known or loved or cherished or counted on or believed in had come to an end. There was nothing left for her to do but begin again. And as she looked at her daughter, Sophie came and put her arms around her, and the two women hugged without saying a word.

It was Teddy who had freed her from Gordon finally. Teddy who had taken her by the hand and led her away. Bill hadn't been able to do it, and he had left first. And she would never have had the courage to do it herself. But Teddy, in freeing himself of the earthly body that had been such torture to him, had finally freed his mother from the life that had tormented her. It was almost as though she could feel him next to her, happy about what he had done. After all she had done for him for fifteen years, it was his final gift to her. She was free at last.

Chapter 17

Gordon didn't return to the house on the rue de Grenelle for several days. Isabelle knew she could have found him if she wanted, but she didn't try. She had no reason to. They had nothing left to say, and she was sure he was with the Comtesse de Ligne.

Isabelle wandered around the house aimlessly for a while, absorbing all that had happened. She sat in Teddy's room for hours, and cried, and then suddenly smiled through her tears as she remembered things he had done or said. She seemed lost in another world. And by herself, late one night, she began to pack up his things. He had so little, as though he had only been passing through this world. He had books, puzzles, toys from his childhood, endless nightclothes, some religious articles the nurses had given him over the years. Isabelle sniffed his clothes and his pillow before she put them away. But in effect, he had very little. The only things that had really mattered to him were photographs he had of his mother and Sophie. And there was a very handsome one of Isabelle and Gordon on their wedding day. It was the only photograph of his father he'd ever had, or wanted.

She packed it all up, and stayed up until morning to do it, and by the time Sophie got up in the morning, it was done. There were neatly packed boxes stacked in his room. And when she was finished, Isabelle went back to her own bedroom and went to sleep.

She heard from Gordon finally late that afternoon. He wanted to know what her plans were.

“I haven't figured that out yet. I've been packing Teddy's things.”

“That's a morbid pursuit, why don't you have the nurses do it?” She had done it herself out of respect for the child she had loved so much. But Gordon couldn't understand that. He loved no one except himself, and never had. Isabelle couldn't imagine what his relationship was with Louise. She was sure it was based on her social importance, and her title. They were the same things that had once drawn him to Isabelle. But he couldn't tolerate the person, or the reality. He had no use for them. “You behaved abominably the other night,” he accused her, trying to intimidate her with his tone. She had heard it so often, it no longer impressed her. And what he had been so horrified by was that she dared to bring up his affair with Louise. It seemed amazing to him that she had finally discovered it after all these years. And when he'd asked Louise if she'd actually called his house on New Year's Eve when she missed her flight to Saint-Moritz, all of which he considered most unlikely, she had admitted that she probably had. It was an innocent mistake. But it had unraveled and exposed ten years of his carefully constructed lies. He hadn't dared complain to her about it.

“This has been an abominable situation for a long time,” Isabelle said simply, which was the truth. “I always thought that I had somehow failed you and that's why you were so cold to me. I thought it was my fault, because I was always so wrapped up in Teddy. But I finally understand it had nothing to do with me, or with him. You simply didn't want to be here.”

“It had everything to do with you,” he said. “If you'd taken the time to be a decent wife, it would never have happened.” He was admitting nothing to her, and blaming her for everything, which was typical of him.

“I have been a decent wife to you, Gordon. I was always here for you. I actually loved you in the beginning. You were the one who shut me out, who put walls up between us, who moved out of our bedroom and rejected me. But none of that had anything to do with me, and I think you know that.”

“You can't absolve yourself so easily. I would never have done any of those things if you had learned what you needed to in the beginning.”

He was the teacher, and she the pupil, and he wanted her to know she had failed the course abysmally. All her love and decency and heart counted for nothing with him. He didn't know or care who she was. That much was clear. She had done backward somersaults for him for years, while he shouted “higher,” “faster,” and it was never good enough for him. Once he had taken advantage of her background and connections, and had established himself, he had no further use for her. And she knew he would do the same thing to Louise. Once the world knew he had married a countess, and that she was a very rich and successful woman, and he had used her to his satisfaction, he could throw her away too. Isabelle could no longer imagine Gordon caring about anyone, not her, not his children, not even his mistress probably. He was narcissistic in the extreme.