A Sudden Change of Heart a Sudden Change of Heart

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

“Good God, no! Of course not.”

  “Then why?”

  “I just don’t know. I love you, Laura, I really do, but something’s gone.”

  “The spark’s not there,” she whispered, suddenly understanding, and she sighed. “You love me, but you’re not in love with me, that’s it, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But I do. Admit it, I won’t be angry, Doug, these things happen. You’ve changed, that’s all, and people do change, I realize that.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” he finally agreed. “Maybe the spark isn’t there any longer.”

  Laura made no response. The old familiar heaviness descended on her; it was like a dead weight on her, shoulders. And inside she felt cold and empty. Bereft, she thought, I’ve been bereft for a long time. Like a widow, I’ve been grieving for him because I’ve known for months he was gone from me forever.

  Doug sighed, aware of her pain. He did not know how to comfort her, there was no way really. And so he did not speak.

  Now a long silence fell between them. Neither of them dared say another word for fear of hurting each other too deeply.

  But at last Laura found the strength to mouth the words that had rolled around in her head for weeks. “I think we should get a divorce, Doug.” There, the dreaded words were out at last. They seemed to hang in the air between them.

  After a moment of utter stillness, he answered in a quiet voice, “No, a trial separation.”

  “That’s only putting off the inevitable. Look, maybe I’ve changed too.”

  “I don’t think you have. Not you. Not Laura, ever true blue.” He drew away, looking at her closely. His heart ached; he was full of regrets, but he could not alter things, not now. It was too late. The die was cast. In a sense it had been cast long ago. He touched her face gently with one finger, running it down her cheek as he had done so frequently in the past, and then attempted to smile at her, but the smile faltered.

  This old familiar gesture undid her. She stared at him and gasped, and fell against him.

  As he held her in the circle of his arms, she began to cry inconsolably, as though her heart were breaking; and, in a way, it was. She wept for the end of their marriage, for the children they had wanted and would never have, for the future together now lost to them.

  Suddenly overcome, Laura pushed herself away from Doug and rushed out of the room, her eyes streaming. Running into their bedroom, she closed the door and leaned against it, pressing her hands against her eyes, wanting to stem her tears. She found a box of tissues by the side of the bed, took one, and blew her nose. And once she felt in control of herself again, she returned to the living room.

  As she walked in, she passed the skirted table in the corner, and she paused, glanced at the many photographs of family and friends arranged on it. Prominent among them was a picture of Doug, herself, Karen and Robin, which had been taken the previous summer on Martha’s Vineyard, when the four of them had been on vacation together.

  Laura had always thought that Robin and Karen were ideally suited, two intellectuals at heart, sharing a love of the theater, music, and art. In her mind they had always been the Beautiful Couple, both blond, blue-eyed, and good-looking. Karen, so slender and willowy, stylish and chic, dress designer par excellence with her own boutique in SoHo. Robin, lean and handsome and somewhat dapper, well-groomed to the point of old-fashioned perfection. He was the cool, precise banker by day, a man who rarely cracked a smile; at night he became the laughing, fun-loving bohemian.

  Well, they hadn’t been the perfect couple after all, since the engagement was now off. When Doug had told her earlier she had been momentarily taken aback; but she wasn’t so surprised after all, now that she thought about it carefully. The pieces had all fallen into place. Suddenly she understood what all of this was about, understood who it was that had come between them.

  Doug was sitting on the sofa, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. “Are you all right, Laura?” he asked as she moved into the room, but he did not look up at her.

  Ignoring the question, she said, “It’s Robin, isn’t it? That’s what all this is about. It’s Robin who’s come between us. You’re leaving me for him.”

  Doug was silent.

  Laura went and stood in front of him, her back to the fireplace. When he did not respond, she exclaimed, “We’ve been married almost seven years, and I think you should tell me the truth. You owe me that at least.”

  He still did not respond, and his silence infuriated her. She cried, “I know things have been strained between us; I know we’ve drifted apart, but at the root of it stands Robin. Don’t pretend otherwise, Doug.”

  “I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise,” Doug said, lifting his head at last. “I was going to tell you,” he went on, and then faltered.

  “Tell me when exactly,” she demanded. “Next month, next year?”

  “No, of course not, don’t be silly. I was going to tell you …” He shook his head, his expression chagrined. “Okay, I lost my nerve a short while ago. But I would have told you before I went back to L.A.”

  “Would you?” she asked quietly, sounding skeptical.

  “Laura, I still love you, and I respect you, and I was going to explain.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me now?”

  He nodded. “I’ve always known … known I was … bisexual. There was another man once, when I was in college, as well as various girlfriends. I wanted very badly to get married and have children; but I never met a woman I wanted to marry. Until I met you. I was totally bowled over by you, and when I fell in love with you I thought everything was going to work out. It seemed to be the perfect marriage. And then I met Robin when I went to that retreat two years ago. I discovered I was very … stirred by him, touched by him emotionally and physically. But nothing happened. I thought at the time it was something inside me and only in me. He and I became good friends, and we made a great foursome, and that was that. I tried to block out my feelings, Laura, I really did. I tried to concentrate on you, on us, on our marriage, but other things were going on inside me. My attraction for Robin was growing steadily. It simply wouldn’t go away. And then last summer, when we were on Martha’s Vineyard, Robin and I were alone on the boat one day, and everything exploded around us. It just happened … we were together.”

  “I see.” Laura sat down on the nearest chair, stunned by what he had told her, and then she asked quickly, “Were there any other infidelities during our marriage?”

  “Absolutely not!” Doug exclaimed, staring at her. “And that’s the truth.”

  She nodded. “Robin’s also moving to Los Angeles, isn’t he?”

  It was Doug’s turn to nod.

  Laura said, “What would have happened if we’d had a child? Children? Would you have stayed in the marriage?”

  Taken aback by this question, Doug sat on the sofa again and wondered how to answer it. What would he have done? Would he have left a wife and children for his lover? Other men had. But he wasn’t sure, and he said quickly, “I don’t know, Laura, honestly, I don’t.”

  “Thinking about it, our marriage was very passionate in the beginning, but the passion … sort of dwindled, didn’t it, Doug?”

  “Yes.”

  She was silent, looked off into space. She felt, suddenly, a terrible sense of defeat. Her marriage had started off so well, and then it had gone awry, and he had fallen in love with someone else. Man or woman, it really didn’t matter, because the outcome was the same. He had chosen someone else over her. Sadness trickled through her, and she discovered she had nothing else to say.

  Doug said, “I’m sorry, Laura.”

  She looked at him helplessly. She was wordless.

  “I didn’t mean it to happen, but it did. I can’t help it, Laura … it’s just … the way it is.”

  17

  “It was all handled nicely, Gran,” Laura said, looking across at Megan, then she suddenly laughed somewhat hollowly and added, “if
you can use that word when talking about a divorce. What I meant is we were civilized, grown-up about it, and Doug was thoughtful, very nice really.”

  “Doug’s always been a nice young man, and in my experience a leopard doesn’t change its spots, even when there’s a divorce in the offing,” Megan responded. “So he’s gone back to Los Angeles, has he?”

  “Yes. To finish the Aaronson merger. He’s told them at Cohen, Travis, and Norris that he’s leaving the law firm once the deal has been completed, or, rather, this particular stage of it. He said he’s going to start looking for an apartment, but for the moment he’ll be at the Peninsula.”

  Laura rose and walked across the solarium, her high heels resounding loudly on the terra-cotta tile floor. Leaning against the French doors, she gazed out across the lawns; these sloped down to a band of willow trees that dipped their flowing branches into a slow-moving stream that sliced through the property in Kent, Connecticut. In the fading, misty light of the afternoon, the gray-green landscape looked ethereal, a Turner painting.

  After a moment, and almost to herself, she muttered, “And he’s taken all of his clothes with him.”

  Megan heard this, and she said quietly, “Then there’s no question about it, Laura, he’s gone for good. Is that what you’re saying, my darling?”

  Laura swung around to face her grandmother; her expression was woebegone. “Yes. And I feel as isolated and alone as if I’d been abandoned on the Patagonian ice cap and left to fend for myself.”

  Megan couldn’t resist laughing despite the moroseness echoing in Laura’s voice. “You do have such colorful phrases at times. I always did tell you to become a writer. So he’s gone, and you’re sad, and sorrowing, but that’s only natural. Doug has been there by your side, and there for you, for almost seven years. You’re bound to feel the wrench, especially since I’m quite aware you still love him.”

  “I do, Grandma, and I always will. But I’ve realized for a while now that I’ve changed in certain ways myself. He’s not in love with me anymore, and neither am I with him.” At least I don’t think I am, she said to herself as she came back and sat down next to Megan. Staring at her grandmother intently, she continued. “In the same way that we fell in love, we’ve … grown out of it. And as strange as this might sound to you, Gran, I honestly think we might have killed it off ourselves, working so hard trying to have a baby.”

  Megan nodded. “I can well imagine. Sex became too clinical, too mechanical perhaps, it wasn’t romantic sex anymore, is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “More or less. Anyway, we’re friends, and we’ll stay friends for the rest of our lives, I feel sure of that. We were both in tears when he went back to Los Angeles last week. All that luggage he took made it seem so … final. Suddenly Doug didn’t want to go. We just clung to each other for ages, until the doorman buzzed again to say that the driver was worried Doug would miss the plane. In the end I had to virtually push him out of the apartment.”

  “It must have been difficult for you both. On the other hand, Doug hasn’t dropped off the edge of the world. He’s only gone to Los Angeles.”

  “I know. But there’s something quite awful about the end of a marriage, or any relationship for that matter.”

  “Oh, yes, I know that only too well. However, it’s not as if he died. And Doug will always be there for you, should you ever need him. I feel that in my bones. That’s the kind of man he is.”

  “Yes, that’s what he said, that if I ever needed him, I only had to call. He offered to give me alimony, but I turned it down. Why should I do that to him, hamstring him in that way, when I earn a decent living myself?”

  “Some women wouldn’t be quite so selfless,” Megan responded with her usual pithiness.

  “But I’m not some women. I’m me.”

  “Thank God for that, and I wasn’t being critical, I was merely commenting.”

  “Yes, Gran. Doug says he wants me to have the apartment. As you know, we bought it together, but he told me he doesn’t need his share of the money back. All he wants are his books, the paintings he bought, and his grandfather’s Georgian desk and chair.”

  “It sounds to me as if the two of you don’t have any problems with each other when it comes to the financial side of your marriage, and that is truly quite remarkable.”

  “He’s bending over backward to be decent, and so am I.”

  “You’re a good girl, and I’m proud of the way you’re handling this situation.” Megan paused, shifted slightly in her chair, and gave Laura a penetrating glance. “Forgive me, but I feel I must ask you this. Do you think there’s another woman in his life? Has he fallen in love with someone else? Is that what this is all about?”

  “Doug denies it. I asked him, Gran. He says there isn’t another woman, and I believe him.”

  “I trust your judgment. However, he’s being so obliging, it made me wonder, that’s all. Anyway, because your marriage has seemingly gone awry, I think it’s a good thing you’re getting divorced immediately rather than clinging to it. You’re still young enough to start all over again, and the same applies to Doug.”

  “I know, but it’s a bit hard at times,” Laura whispered, and pushed down the tears that had sprung into her throat. Much to her mortification, her eyes were unexpectedly moist; she brushed her hand across them and blinked rapidly, then cleared her throat.

  Megan, ever eagle-eyed, noticed this rush of sudden emotion, but observing how well her granddaughter was handling herself, she decided to ignore it. Instead, she said, “Of course it’s hard, but then, life is hard, and it always has been. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s never been easy, not for anyone. The important thing is how you handle life and all of its hardships and pain. I’ve always believed you’ve got to deal with life’s trouble standing up, fists raised, fighting hard. It’s vital to battle through and come out triumphant. You’re a winner, darling, of that I’m absolutely sure.” Megan nodded, and her wise old eyes were gentle, full of love, as she finished. “I have no fears about you, Laura. You’ll do fine.”

  “Oh, Gran, I hope so.”

  “You will, because you’re a true Valiant. That’s the way I brought you up. As your grandfather would have said, a chip off the old block.”

  Laura smiled, filled with love for this wonderful old woman who had given her so much love and understanding every day of her life. Whatever would I have done without her, she suddenly wondered; my mother was never around.

  Megan said, “Don’t let things drift, start the divorce proceedings as soon as you can. It’s better to make a swift, clean cut. Prolonging things gets messy. Anyway, you seem to have worked everything out with Doug in the most amicable way, in a mature manner, and that augers well for you.”

  “We’ve tried to make it easy on each other, and Doug says he’ll recommend a divorce lawyer. He’s going to call me regarding one sometime next week.”

  Megan nodded and pushed herself up out of her chair. “I think I’ll go and have a rest now, Laura dear. And by the way, lunch was delicious, thank you for making it.”

  Laughing, Laura exclaimed, “You know very well all I did was unpack it and unwrap it. But the smoked salmon was lovely, wasn’t it?”

  Megan nodded. “Petrossian, I’ve no doubt. That’s another trait you inherited from me. Extravagance.” Winking at her granddaughter, she murmured, “And now I’m going up to my room to daydream about the past. That’s what old women do, you know. Live their lives all over again … in their dreams. It’s a beautiful way to spend an afternoon when you’ve nothing better to do.”

  Laura put her arms around her grandmother and held her close for a moment or two. Then she said, “Do you want me to help you upstairs, Gran?”

  “Get along with you, you silly girl!” Megan exclaimed, sounding irritated as she moved away from Laura. “I’m not decrepit yet, as I keep telling you. I can manage very well on my own, ninety-two or not. I’m very sprightly, I’ll have you know.”


  Laura smiled lovingly. “I’ve got to come upstairs anyway, to check Claire’s room. I know Fenice came in to do a thorough cleaning during the week, but I want to make sure Claire has everything she might need for the weekend.”

  “I’m glad she’s coming to stay for a few days, and don’t forget to put flowers in her room. Now, come along, Laura, don’t dawdle, let’s go upstairs.”

  A little later Laura put on her Barbour and green Wellington boots and walked down toward the river. The sky had changed; it was a strange mottled green along the rim, and it looked cold and remote. The dimming light, combined with the mist rising from the river, gave the garden a strange, mysterious feeling. Only a short while ago it had seemed ethereal as she had viewed it through the, French windows of the solarium. Now, suddenly, it was distinctly eerie.

  Although it was not cold, Laura shivered. Goose bumps speckled the back of her neck. Somebody walked over my grave, she thought, remembering a saying of her grand-mother’s, and she shivered again, pushed that dolorous thought out of her head.

  Moving away from the river’s bank and the dripping willows, she headed toward the small copse where mostly maples and oaks grew, and she caught her breath in surprise and pleasure as she moved forward into the bosky glade. The hundreds and hundreds of daffodils, which her grandmother had planted over the years, were already shooting up near an old drystone wall that bordered this end of their land. They were early this year, the tender green shoots pushing up out of the rich dark earth. Their yellow bonnets had not yet opened, but she felt sure they would burst into bloom next week if the weather remained mild.

  Years earlier her grandfather had placed a green-painted wooden Adirondack bench at the edge of the glade, near the stone wall, and Laura sat down on it, brought her feet to the seat and hunched in a corner, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her thoughts turned to Doug and the end of their marriage, and she sighed to herself.

  She had given her grandmother a carefully edited version of everything that had happened. She had not wanted to rehash their parting, or relive it, and so she had shortened the story and smoothed it out and made it sound amicable. Not that it had been a rancorous parting.