‘Was this before or after the miscarriage?’ Indigo asked.
‘Before. It got even worse after it.’
Indigo didn’t say anything, just nodded as if she understood.
‘Then, when we lost the baby, she didn’t want me to even leave the house. She became obsessed with trying to get pregnant again, to the point where there was no joy in our sex life any more. It was as if she only thought of me as a baby-making machine and would get angry with me if I said I was too tired or not in the mood. When I suggested we should wait a while before trying to get pregnant again, to give us both some time to recover, she was furious with me. So furious.’
He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the familiar tension mounting.
‘I tried to get her friends to talk to her, to give her the kind of support I couldn’t,’ he said, wanting Indigo to know he hadn’t been totally heartless about it, ‘but she froze them out, saying they couldn’t possibly understand how she felt. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in years—she and her father had had some kind of falling out when she was eighteen—so there was no support there either. And she refused to go to counselling. She wanted me to make things better, but I had no idea how to make her happy any more. It got too much. I started working later and later and ignoring her calls, just to get some space.’
The words seemed to be pouring from him now, as if the pressure they’d been stoppered under had finally found a release.
‘Then she stopped talking to me, to punish me, I think, and my life outside work became one long, silent nightmare. So then I spent even more time away from the house so I didn’t have to face what had gone wrong with my life.’
‘Oh, Julien, that sounds horrendous.’ She put her hand briefly over his and he found comfort in the warmth of her touch. But only for a moment.
‘It wasn’t the best year of my life, that’s for sure.’
‘So who ended it?’
‘She did. She told me she wanted a divorce out of the blue one morning, then walked out and didn’t come back.’
‘That must have been difficult for you.’
‘Honestly—I didn’t try very hard to stop her.’ He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. ‘I didn’t love her.’
‘Oh, Julien—’
But he didn’t want her sympathy right then, didn’t feel as if he deserved it. ‘She needed more from me. She needed my understanding. I knew she wasn’t coping well with the miscarriage, but I kept pushing her away because I didn’t know how to deal with everything that had happened either. I failed her.’
He felt Indigo move closer to him on the sofa. ‘You mustn’t think that. It must have been awful for both of you and it sounds like she fell apart and expected you to deal with everything. You shouldn’t feel guilty for not trying harder. It sounds like you did everything you could think of.’
‘I offered her a very generous divorce settlement to get it over with quickly. At least she’ll never need to work another day in her life. I fixed her with money.’ He let out a long, low rush of breath. ‘And I feel relieved to be free of her. That makes me a terrible person, doesn’t it?’
He glanced over at Indigo and was relieved to see understanding in her eyes.
On his way here he’d been terrified about how she’d take all this. He’d almost turned back a couple of times, but he knew if he wanted her he had to have the courage to tell her everything.
‘It doesn’t make you a terrible person. It makes you human,’ she said, giving his hand a squeeze this time. ‘And it doesn’t sound like there was much of a relationship to save after you lost the baby.’
He picked up her hand from where it lay in her lap and linked his fingers through hers, feeling her shiver at his touch. The discovery that she felt the same way he did gave him courage.
‘Oui. It became clear pretty quickly that we didn’t have a lot in common after we got married. We thought and reacted to things in completely contrary ways. When we found out she was pregnant I told myself it wouldn’t matter that we were so different because we’d have the child to hold us together.’
‘It sounds like there was a good chance the marriage wouldn’t have worked even if the baby had survived, and then you’d have felt guilty about depriving him or her of a stable family background instead.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said, letting her words wash though his mind. It felt good to have finally said all this out loud, after it had festered in his head for so long.
‘Have you talked to someone? A counsellor or a friend?’
‘Non.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m fine.’
‘But you lost a child too.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘So I get it now,’ Indigo said, screwing up her face in sympathy.
He gave her a puzzled look. ‘Get what?’
‘The enforced solitude in Italy. You were making yourself walk the coast path alone as a penance—because you were punishing yourself for not doing more to save your marriage.’
‘I didn’t do a very good job of being on my own, though,’ he said, forcing irony into his smile.
‘Perhaps that’s because, deep down, you know there was nothing you could have done to make things better, but you feel like you should punish yourself anyway.’
‘Or I just couldn’t keep away from you, no matter how hard I tried.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ she whispered, looking deep into his eyes, and he knew for sure. at that moment, it hadn’t been a mistake to come here. She loved him as fiercely as he loved her. He could see it there, written plainly on her face.
And now he wanted to show her how much she meant to him.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asked. ‘You must be after working with food all day.’
‘A bit,’ she said, giving him a baffled smile.
‘Good, because I managed to get hold of the recipe for that pasta dish you liked so much in the beach restaurant in Nerano. I have all the ingredients in there.’ He pointed to the black shopping bag he’d left on the kitchen counter.
She stared at him, clearly shocked at this revelation. ‘You persuaded them to tell you their secret?’
‘Oui.’
‘And you’re going to cook it for me?’
‘Sure I am.’
She raised an eyebrow at him, the expression in her eyes wary. Clearly, she still wasn’t entirely sure what he’d come here for.
‘Are you trying to woo me with your culinary skills?’ she asked hesitantly, confirming his suspicions.
‘You might want to taste my food before you decide whether it’s woo-worthy. I’m not as experienced as you. To be honest, I very rarely cook.’ He flashed her a smile. ‘But I like a challenge.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be delicious,’ she said, her eyes wide with badly concealed bewilderment, ‘but I’m happy to lend a hand.’ She started to get up from the sofa.
‘Non.’ He held up a finger, gesturing for her to stay where she was. ‘You sit down and relax. I’ll fetch you a glass of wine and you can watch me work.’
* * *
Indigo watched in baffled pleasure as Julien made a production of opening an expensive-looking bottle of wine, searching through her cupboards till he’d found her paltry selection of glasses, pouring a large measure into one of them and handing it to her, then going back to the counter to unpack the bag he’d brought with him.
There was something wonderful about watching him moving around her kitchen, preparing and cooking a meal especially for her. Being the one who was looked after for once.
‘I’m moving to London, Indigo,’ he said suddenly as he dropped pasta into a pan of bubbling water. ‘I’ve decided to branch out and set up a new arm to the business that focuses on providing affordable housing
for first-time buyers and low-wage families.’
She stared at him. ‘Wow, that sounds amazing.’
He was moving? Here, to London? Her heart tripped over itself at the news.
He looked up at her, flashing her a smile. ‘You inspired me.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. After you told me about your community café it made me realise that I’ve been too profit-focused for too long. I want to make a difference in people’s lives too. And that’s the best way I can employ my existing skills and knowledge in order to do that.’
‘Well, I think that’s wonderful, Julien, but I thought you loved living in Paris?’
‘I do, but you’re not there.’
The shock of his words reverberated through her head, making her feel a little dizzy.
‘You’d move here for me?’
‘Oui. If we’re to give a relationship a chance we need to be living in the same city, since we’re both very busy people.’
She gaped at him, her mind reeling as a small but persistent bubble of hope pushed upwards.
‘Anyway, you persuaded me whilst we were away that London could come a close second to Paris,’ he continued, abandoning what he was doing at the counter and walking back over to her at the sofa. ‘And it won’t take long to travel back there for a weekend when I need a fix. I can introduce you to my favourite parts of the city. I’d like that.’
He sat down next to her, taking her hands.
‘But what if it didn’t work out between us?’ she asked warily, unable to ignore the memory of how badly things had gone with Gavin. She didn’t want to feel responsible for Julien giving up everything he loved if it made him miserable.
‘Someone once told me that you’ve just got to keep positive and everything will work itself out in the end.’
‘Someone once told me that was total claptrap,’ she pointed out.
‘That guy was an idiot.’
She closed her eyes and smiled. When she opened them again he was looking at her with an expression of utter seriousness.
‘I’ve had enough time on my own to think about things. When we talked in Capri I was afraid—afraid that I couldn’t give you the level of attention you deserve, that I couldn’t be positive enough for you, that you’d come to resent me for my dour outlook and selfish moods. I didn’t want you to think of me like that. I wanted to be ready and capable of showing you the real me. Not the shell of a man I was when we first met. It nearly killed me, walking away, but I had to be sure I could handle it.’
‘And are you?’
‘Oui. After panicking that I might have lost you, and realising that would make me so much more miserable, I know I can now.’
Indigo swallowed hard, feeling a familiar tightness in her throat, only this time it was from overwhelming excitement.
He leaned forwards, stroking his thumbs over the backs of her hands. ‘I’ve thought about you every single day since I left you, Indigo. Pretty much every minute of every day. What we had felt so right—no matter how much I tried to convince myself it wasn’t—and in a way that it never did with Celine, or anyone else I’ve ever met. As soon as I met you I knew.’
‘Me too,’ she whispered.
He smiled, relief lighting up his eyes. ‘I want to be near you so we can make a real go of a relationship. If you want that too. What do you say? Has fate kept my slot open for me?’
She was so excited by what he was saying, but she still couldn’t stop a deep-seated worry from tugging at her.
‘What is it?’ he asked, clearly sensing her indecision.
‘I’m worried that I get too argumentative around you and that you’ll get fed up with it.’
‘You mean your fighting spirit? I love that you stand up for yourself.’
She felt a smile pull at the corners of her mouth.
‘But what if I become really self-centred again? I need to be able to concentrate on the café to keep it running and I might not always be around when you need me.’
‘You mean you’d put yourself first for once? Instead, of always considering other people’s feelings before your own? I think I could handle that.’ He flashed her a wry grin. ‘I want to be here to support you, Indigo. Not with money,’ he added quickly when he saw the look on her face, ‘but to be here when you need me. In fact, I’d live in a cardboard box if it meant I could be with you. The money, the possessions, they mean nothing to me; they’re just noise. I have far more than I need to be happy and if me having money makes you uncomfortable then you can help me decide where it could best be donated in order to help other people.’
She stared at him. ‘You’d be willing to do that?’
‘Yes. For the woman I love.’
‘Love—?’ She could barely say the word as her throat filled with happy tears.
‘Oui.’ He nodded. ‘I’m in love with you.’
‘Oh, thank goodness,’ she said in a rush, ‘because I’m in love with you too.’
There was a look of acute happiness in his eyes as he lifted his hand and slid it into her hair, angling her head towards him and crushing his lips against hers, kissing her with such passion it took her breath away.
When he eventually pulled back she almost growled with frustration, until he cupped his palms around her jaw and looked deep into her eyes.
‘Yes, I’m in love with you, Indigo. I love you for your strength and your determination. Your generosity when you have nothing left to give. Your kindness to a strange Frenchman who needed someone to take an interest in him and make him feel like he had something left to offer. That’s why I love you. Because you remind me of all the good things about me that I’d forgotten about. You’re the person I’m supposed to have my happy-ever-after with. I believe that now.’
‘I believe it too.’
‘Good.’
He kissed her again, even more thoroughly this time.
‘I want it all with you, Indigo,’ he said, kissing her nose, her eyes. ‘A home, a family...’ He kissed her forehead, her cheeks. ‘A future.’ Her drew back and smiled, deep into her eyes. ‘But mostly I want you.’
She experienced a surge of pure joy at his words, knowing for certain now that this was meant to be. That this was fate and she could give him everything he wanted.
And more.
Much, much more.
EPILOGUE
When pondering what to do for your next adventure, you might want to consider something that has it all: excitement, good society and a plethora of opportunities for personal discovery...
Two years later
INDIGO PACED BACK and forth, quickly covering the floor space of the home that she and Julien had bought together after he’d whisked her off to Paris to propose, just six months after moving to London.
They’d fallen in love with the bijou but funky flat situated in a warehouse conversion in Brixton as soon as they’d walked into it. Since moving in, they’d had great fun decorating it simply but stylishly, haunting the antique and flea markets in both London and Paris until they’d managed to put together a collection of furniture that suited and reflected both of their tastes.
With the two of them sharing the mortgage, Indigo had been confident she could comfortably afford her half of the repayment with her wage from the Welcome Café, and she loved walking through the door and knowing that this place was just as much hers as it was Julien’s.
It seemed like a long time ago now that she’d been worried about having to give up working at the café, but she still felt grateful every day for the grants that had turned up just in the nick of time, allowing them to expand and, more recently, open up new branches in other parts of the city. Even though she’d known Julien would have stepped in and given her as much money as she needed had the grants not appeared, she would never
have taken it from him, needing to maintain her financial independence for her own sense of pride.
As it turned out, he’d needed to invest a lot of it in his not-for-profit affordable housing scheme, which had already brought happiness and security to a large number of people who had previously believed they’d never be able to afford their own home.
She was so proud of him for what he’d achieved in such a short space of time. He’d worked tirelessly to make it all happen and was full of positivity for expansion in the future.
It made her heart swell to see him so fired up and happy.
Even though they both led very independent working lives, they’d made sure they were around for each other whenever support was required—either as a sounding board to bounce ideas off, or just to be there to listen to each other talk about the vexations or achievements of their day.
Since they were both incredibly busy during the week, they made sure to take regular breaks away from the city at weekends, when they’d walk and camp and explore the most beautiful parts of England, and occasionally other European countries.
It was a solid and equal partnership, with both of them working hard to make sure they communicated any worries or frustrations they had well before they became an issue.
It worked.
But then she always knew it would. Because they both wanted it to.
Indigo could barely believe it had only been two years since they’d first met in Italy. It felt now as though she’d known him forever.
Their wedding, a year ago, had been a joyous affair, with family and friends travelling from far and wide to the beautiful rural estate just outside Paris—which had been loaned to them by a friend of Julien’s—to celebrate with them.
Indigo had worried about how hard she might find it, not having either of her parents there to see her get married, and she’d shed a tear for their absence the night before, but she hadn’t allowed it to taint her happiness during the day. She knew they were there with her, in her heart.
And she’d had plenty of people who loved her there, rooting for her. All of her brothers had come along with their families in tow, which had made for an entertaining and raucous gathering.
One Week with the French Tycoon Page 14