April was already there, and she met Victor’s glance. She was grinning as well, but her gaze dropped when she met his, and her smile fell. Victor wanted to rush over and tell her that he’d decided not to marry Margaux.
Aie! Margaux! he thought. What does she think about what just happened?
Victor risked a look. Though Margaux's eyes glittered, she had plastered a smile on her face. No surprise there. She wasn’t going to let anyone know there was anything wrong. In fact, she was likely going to try to talk him into changing his mind. Well, he would stand firm. He had been blind to it before, but Margaux had always called the shots in their relationship. Victor had been too concerned with fitting into her family to notice. In fact, it had always felt like the most amazing stroke of luck that she liked him at all. Now that he thought of it, he was well out of this relationship.
Margaux's voice broke through the hum of conversation. “It looks like Matthias is waking up. Victor, could you give me a hand with him, please? Guillaume, do you mind if we use your bedroom?” Guillaume nodded, and Victor felt a jolt of nerves. He’d already decided he would stand firm. It was just not going to be easy.
Victor got up and followed her down the corridor toward the bedroom, feeling April’s stare on his back. It looked like Matthias was still sound asleep, so this really was an excuse. As soon as they went into the room, Margaux flicked on the light and turned to him.
“Perfect timing.” Her voice was icy. “You are joking, of course.”
“I’m sorry about the timing,” he said. “I didn’t intend to tell you until we were on our way home.”
Margaux gripped the stroller handle until her knuckles turned white. “What do you expect me to do now? We’ve sent out all the invitations. I will be completely humiliated. And what about Matthias? What about all these promises of being in his life? The perfect father.” Her sarcasm needled him, as he suspected she’d meant for it to do.
“Don’t worry about Matthias,” he said, ignoring the first part about the wedding invitations, which he couldn’t do anything about. “I plan to be in his life. I will be a good father to him.”
“So you’re really serious about not getting married?” Margaux shoved her hand on her hip, frowning, and he lifted his palms in a gesture of helplessness. What could he say, really?
“Well, you can forget about being in Matthias's life. If you’re not going to marry me, you will never see him again.” Margaux yanked the door open and Matthias's wail came from the stroller. Marching down the hallway, she entered the living room with Victor trailing behind, still in shock. I will lose the relationship with my son? He had no doubts about her carrying that threat out.
“It seems I can’t calm Matthias down,” Margaux announced in a tight voice, her eyes darting around the crowd. “I’d better take him home.” April sought out Victor’s gaze again, her face inscrutable.
Penelope rushed forward and reached for Matthias. “No, you must stay. Here, let me take Matthias. You can relax and have a drink. You haven’t even eaten yet.”
Victor thought she seemed more determined than usual, and he wondered what that was about. He should just let Margaux go. It was one way to avoid listening to her diatribe the entire way home. Maybe he could walk April home instead.
Margaux shook her head. “I really must be going.”
“But you see, he’s already calmed down. Look—he’s smiling at me.” Penelope cooed into Matthias's face, and Guillaume came and stood by her side, looking down at the baby. As if to confirm, Matthias gurgled.
“He’s really cute. Here. Have a glass of Schweppes.” Guillaume slipped the one he’d been holding into her fingers before she could protest.
“Besides,” Penelope said, “the surprise involves you.”
Margaux raised an eyebrow and glanced coolly at Victor, but she took a sip of her drink and didn’t seem ready to rush off anymore. Shoot.
Penelope had seated Margaux by Guillaume on the opposite end of the table from Victor, and there was an empty chair on the other side of Margaux. She’d put April next to Victor, and he tried to catch her eye to smile at her, but April returned a tight-lipped smile and looked away.
Guillaume brought out the roast beef and potatoes, and they passed the dishes around until everyone had been served. Before they picked up their forks, Penelope stood. “I’d like to make a toast. Théo, can you fill Morgane’s glass?”
When Théo had poured the red wine, Penelope nodded at Arthur. “Actually, why don’t you share the news first, then I’ll make a toast.”
April looked at Arthur with dull eyes, and Victor wished she would look at him instead. He wished he could talk to her.
Leaning back in his chair, Arthur said, “I had a meeting with Mr. Chambourd today.” At that, April shot her head up. “He has decided to replace one of his paintings in the gallery and include a new canvas, titled, April à Paris.”
April gasped, and Victor was relieved to see a genuine smile on her face at last. “I can’t believe it,” she said.
Penelope lifted her glass in a toast, Matthias in her other arm. She seemed to be a natural with children. “And so this is my toast. To April, her talent, and her painting in the gallery. May April take Paris by storm.” She grinned at her own pun, then said, “Tchin tchin.”
Everyone raised their glass and drank to April. Margaux raised her glass too—she would never be so rude as not to participate—but her face was stormy. Victor knew only good manners were keeping her there. Guillaume gestured for everyone to sit, and the dinner began.
The doorbell rang. “Enfin,” Penelope exclaimed and shot out of her seat, rushing for the door. “You made it,” she said, when she opened the door, and Victor heard an answering masculine voice. So the surprise was a person. Probably someone they all knew from high school. He glanced at Margaux, and for the second time in one day, she’d lost her composure. Her face was white, and her jaw had dropped open. Suddenly, the visitor was even more interesting.
“I didn’t know you had a baby,” the man said from the hallway. It sounded like he was flirting.
“I don’t,” Penelope replied, a note of glee in her voice, as she led the way to the dining room. “Alors, some of you will recognize our guest, but everyone else, I’d like you to meet Franck Duboise. Franck, you know Théo, Martin, Auriane, Guillaume and Morgane, I think. Aimée is Guillaume’s little sister, and Victor and April are friends. I believe you also know Margaux?”
Franck startled when he turned to his right and saw Margaux. “I…I think I know about everyone here. Victor, is it? And April? April’s not French, is it?” His laughter rang out false. He turned to Penelope. “You didn’t tell me there would be a crowd.”
“What are you doing back?” Margaux spoke up, her color heightened. “You said you weren’t returning to Paris.”
Franck tried to avoid her gaze, and gave a hasty reply. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t visit. I just said I didn’t want to move back. Where should I sit?” he asked brightly, then glanced down and saw the only empty seat next to Margaux. A look of annoyance flashed over his features. “I guess here.”
“Franck and I ran into each other near his apartment building. I didn’t know he lived there, and I happened to be in the neighborhood buying a book. We caught up on old times, and I couldn’t resist inviting him over to surprise the whole crew.” Penelope sat with a flourish and took a sip of her wine, looking for all the world like she was queen of it.
“Oh.” Penelope popped up again, and reached across Franck to hand Matthias over. “Here, Margaux, I think you’ll want to hold your baby again.” Margaux took Matthias mechanically. She was still looking at Franck, and Victor couldn’t decipher the expression on her face, but he knew there was something afoot.
“Looks like I’m late,” Franck’s voice boomed out. “Everyone is already eating. Ah, merci,” he added when Guillaume leaned across the table to serve him some wine.
Matthias jumped at the loud voice and began a thin wai
l, and Franck flashed the baby a look of annoyance. “Don’t you want to put it somewhere else?” he asked with a sidelong glance, then turned back to the other guests. “We’re trying to eat here, right?”
“I don’t mind babies, do you, Guillaume?” Penelope’s smile had disappeared but her look of mischief was still present.
“Not at all,” Guillaume answered, and cut a large forkful of lamb.
Victor remained silent. It felt like watching a slow-moving train that he was certain was going to wreck. He didn’t think he could say anything, even if he tried. April was looking at her plate, so no hope for any silent communication there. For the umpteenth time, he wished they could talk.
The table was more quiet than usual, as if everyone were waiting for something to happen. Penelope chewed thoughtfully, then said, “So, Victor, is everything all set for the wedding? You and Margaux? Who’s going to watch your baby when you go on the honeymoon?”
Franck gave him a sharp look, and Victor shrugged, not appreciating Penelope’s maneuver. “We haven’t sorted out all the details yet.” He certainly couldn’t announce here that he was no longer planning to marry Margaux. And he still needed to think things through, because if he was going to lose his relationship with his son, this was not a decision he could take lightly.
“Getting married?” Franck asked Margaux, with a lift of his brows. “Good for you.”
“Yes, it is good, isn’t it?” Margaux replied in an icy voice. “Some people know how to do the honorable thing.”
Victor saw several people pause to look at Margaux, then the truth washed over him with perfect clarity.
“It’s funny how little the baby resembles his father,” Penelope said. “Margaux has dark brown hair, and Victor has an olive complexion, and little Matthias is pink all around. And look at his hair. There are red highlights.” She laughed, and Guillaume smiled fondly at her, clearly appreciating some inside joke.
“I mean, you’re a redhead, Franck. How does that come about? Do you need to have a redhaired parent to have red hair, or can it come from recessive genes?”
“Recessive genes,” he snapped, gripping his wineglass. He swallowed the wine in one gulp and stood. “You know what? I see what this is.” He whirled on Margaux. “It’s probably all your idea. Another attempt to trap me, but it’s not going to work.”
Margaux stood as well, Matthias gripped tightly in her hands so that he started to cry again. “Isn’t it just like you to walk out again? Why don’t you be a man and face up to your responsibilities for once?” She marched over to the stroller and set Matthias in it, her gestures surprisingly gentle despite her anger. There were too many emotions swirling around, and Victor was frozen in place. He couldn’t have spoken or moved if he’d tried.
Franck, seeing Margaux strap the baby in and appearing as if she were going to follow, began to look trapped. “I’m leaving,” he announced, heading for the front door. Margaux was not long behind. “No you’re not. You’re going to hear me out this time.” She pushed the stroller in his wake and caught the door before it closed behind him. Victor heard her voice as it floated down the hallway. “You may want nothing to do with your baby, but you are going to listen to what I have to say for once.”
The door clicked shut, and there was silence at the table. Penelope was biting her lips, trying not to smile. “More broccoli?” Guillaume asked, and lifted the bowl.
Slowly, the conversation at the table resumed, and Victor dared to look at April. She was trembling, her hands on her lap. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling, but neither of them seemed to be able to finish the meal. He leaned over to whisper, “Can I take you home?”
April nodded, and he stood. “Euh…Penelope, Guillaume…I’m sorry to leave your dinner early, but I thought I would see April safely back to my grandmother’s apartment.”
“Of course,” Penelope said, and it was almost comical how everyone began talking at once, assuring them it was a great idea. The very thing to do. Victor was sure they all wanted him to leave so they could discuss what had just happened, and he was in just the humor to let them. He pulled April’s chair back so she could stand, and they went to get their things. As soon as the apartment door closed behind them, a muffled conversation erupted in full force.
Chapter 25
Neither said anything until they were on the street. “So the baby’s not yours then, is it?”
Victor shook his head and made no reply. When they’d gone a little further, April asked, “How are you doing? How do you feel about that?” When he didn’t answer right away, she ventured, “Disappointed?”
“Yes, actually.” He walked in silence, and April felt her heart sink. This must be a huge blow to him. He’d really loved the idea of being a father. She wondered if he would still marry Margaux just so he could stay in the baby’s life, though it wasn’t his. She didn’t think so. He’d practically said the only thing keeping him with Margaux was the baby. Oh dear. I hope I didn’t misread him. Perhaps it was just an excuse because he has no feelings for me.
As if he had read her mind, Victor said, “Well, yes and no.” He took a deep breath. “Yes, because I’d started to get used to the idea of having a baby, and I was excited to be a dad. I always wanted to be a father, but I didn’t think I would be a very good one. Matthias showed me that I could be.”
April gave him a sidelong glance. “Of course you will be a good father,” she said softly.
“I will miss Matthias. But—” Victor caught her gaze and held it before turning forward again to allow a couple to cross their path on the sidewalk. When they were alone again, he stopped and faced her. “I have to say. Right before we arrived tonight, I told Margaux I wouldn’t be able to marry her.”
April looked up in surprise. “You did? But…that’s not what you said before. Your biggest priority was creating a family for Matthias.”
“I know. But I realized I didn’t love her, and I probably wouldn’t grow to love her over time. It’s one thing if you can see the potential in a relationship. But I saw no potential. I saw that it would be wrong to bring my son—I mean, a baby—up in a loveless relationship.”
April felt a wild joy coursing through her, but she kept her expression neutral. Until he made a move, she would make none. “How did Margaux take the news?”
“She said she would not let me have a relationship with Matthias if I didn’t marry her.”
“That’s horrible,” April exclaimed. Then, after a pause, “What would you have done?”
“I hadn’t decided yet,” he replied. “Now, I guess I won’t have to.”
Victor began walking again, and April didn’t want to press the issue any further. “So. Exciting news about my painting getting accepted, right? If I can earn anything off it, it will help me with my finances. I think China is probably out of the question right away, at least not until I’m able to go back and earn some money at home first. I hate that my dream has to wait. I feel like I’m letting my dad down by not going right away.”
“You’ll go, though. I know you will,” Victor said.
“Yeah.” April fell silent. She was glad Victor believed in her, but it felt empty in a way. Nothing had changed. She wouldn’t give up her plan of studying art around the world, but…she wished it weren’t so easy for him to let her go. She gave herself a mental shake. This line of thinking would get her nowhere. Even if he liked her well enough to ask her to stay, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t abandon her life’s plan for a guy. Even one as great as him.
Victor interrupted her musings. “So when and where is the gallery opening anyway?”
April took a deep breath and forced some cheer into her response. “It’s next Saturday night. It’s in a small gallery near the Panthéon. I’ll text you the address. Are you going to come then?”
He looked at her in surprise. “How can you ask? I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” They’d approached the street that led to his grandmother’s apartment, and Victor stopped again,
as if he were reluctant for their walk to end. Turning to her, he said, “April, I need to figure some things out. I need a few days to get things sorted in my head.”
She was aware of his nearness, his masculine cologne, and she felt how easy it would be to reach her hands out and lay them on his chest. His presence was reassuring, a solid wall of strength that had saved her twice from brutality, and had been a buffer against the loneliness of being in Paris. When she was with him, she felt she wasn’t alone, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that way.
Victor’s gaze skipped down to her mouth, then back up to her eyes. She stayed still, and did not reach her hands out like she wanted to. He’d said he needed time and that was what she’d give him.
Finally, he stepped back. “We’re almost at Mishou’s.” His voice was husky. “Let me get you home.”
When Victor said goodbye to April, he walked past the métro station, continuing onward. The streets were lively, with people spilling out of pubs, along with the music, into the night. One group of Dutch tourists, dressed in bold colors, greeted one another with laughter and a foreign tongue. He crossed onto a smaller side street and continued toward his house, instinctively knowing the direction, though he didn’t know the street. He’d been close to kissing April tonight, now that he was free, but that would’ve been like his old self. Just doing what felt good in the moment. This time, he needed to do it right, and the right thing would be to give himself time to get used to the idea of not being a father. Matthias was not his.
Lost in thought, Victor hardly realized how far he’d walked until he looked ahead to see the Louvre looming in front of him, its cornices and ornamental chimneys lit by spotlights. The museum made him think of April’s art. Of course her painting would be chosen, now that they’d found it. It was amazing. She was amazing. He wanted to promise her that she would have the means to travel to all these countries if he had any say in the matter, but he suspected she wouldn’t want anything she hadn’t earned herself. That was tricky.
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