She wanted to tear her eyes away from them, but she couldn't bring herself to, as he tucked a hand into the woman's arm and they crossed the street to another store as Alex watched them. They had no idea she was there, and Sam had no clue that she had seen him.
They walked into another shop, and Alex felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she realized that it really was all over between them. She couldn't compete with that. The girl looked twenty-five, and even Sam looked suddenly younger. At first, looking at him, she had thought he was thirty, not fifty. She hurried back up Madison then, not hearing the carolers, or the Santa Clauses ringing bells, or seeing the people or the Christmas trees or the windows. She saw nothing except her own life, lying in shards around her.
She was back at the apartment half an hour after she'd left it, looking worse instead of better. She was deathly pale, and her hands shook violently as she hung up her coat, and walked somberly into her bedroom. She closed the door and lay down on the bed, wondering how she would ever face him again. That was why he had wanted his freedom. It had all been a sham, a game, saying that he needed time. What he had needed was a new woman. And he had one.
She walked into the bathroom then, and stood looking at herself in the mirror. To her own eyes, she looked a hundred years old, and as she slowly pulled the wig off, she saw what she had become. She was disfigured and bald. She had cancer, she had lost a breast, and her hair. She thought of the girl she had seen with him, and knew the ugliest of truths. She was no longer a woman.
Chapter 15
Sam came home to them early on Christmas Eve, after he put Daphne on a plane to London. She was going to visit her parents, and her little boy, and Sam was going to join her in Gstaad after he took Annabelle to Disney World and then brought her back to her mother.
He had given Daphne a spectacular diamond bracelet before she left, and a ruby heart pin that he had bought for her at Fred Leighton. Sam had always been generous and he had bought something pretty for Alex too, though nothing quite as important. He had bought her a very handsome Bulgari watch that he knew she'd wanted for a while, but none of the thoughtful little things that expressed his interest and affection. He didn't want to mislead her.
There was no avoiding the fact that Christmas was different this year. No matter what efforts they made, even Annabelle seemed to feel it, and she cried after they put out the cookies for Santa, and the salt and carrots for his reindeer.
“What if he doesn't bring me what I asked for?” she cried, and both Sam and Alex tried to console her. But she was inconsolable and she finally admitted that she was afraid he'd be angry at her because this year she had asked him for something a little “harder.” “I asked him to make my Mommy better right away so she can stop taking her medicine, and bring her hair back.” Hearing her words made Alex cry so hard she had to turn away, and even Sam had a hard time with that one.
“What did he say to you?” Sam asked hoarsely. She had asked him that when Alex had taken her to see Santa at Macy's.
“He said that was up to God, not Santa.”
“He's right, Princess,” Sam explained while Alex blew her nose and adjusted her wig. She was wearing the long one. “But Mommy will get better anyway, and she'll get her hair back.” Sam was surprised to hear about her hair, he hadn't realized she'd lost it. Alex had never told him. It made him realize how out of touch he was. He had been so wrapped up in Daphne and their love affair for the last month, that he hadn't focused on anything else. He hadn't wanted to know what was going on at home, and he hadn't even paid serious attention to what was happening at the office.
Larry and Tom had heckled him a couple of times, and Simon seemed pleased for him. But Larry had said something to him about how sorry he and Frances were about Alex. He seemed to imply that he was sorry about “them” too. It was obvious, because of Daphne, that they had problems in their marriage. But Sam was anything but sorry. And he figured that his partners were just jealous of him. It never occurred to him that they thought it was rotten of him to leave Alex now, when she was battling chemotherapy and cancer.
Eventually, Annabelle calmed down again, and they put her to bed together. She seemed so happy to see them that way that it tore at Alex's heart. Later when they went out to the kitchen, Sam looked embarrassed.
“I didn't realize you'd lost your hair,” Sam said, as he helped himself to one of Santa's cookies. They had less of everything this year. Fewer cookies, fewer Christmas cakes, fewer presents, less cheer. Even their Christmas tree seemed smaller. With Alex sick, no one else had put in the same effort. And they hadn't sent Christmas cards either. She didn't have the energy, and she wouldn't have known how to sign them. From Alex …and maybe Sam …sort of.
“I didn't think you'd want me to announce it, about my hair,” Alex said, trying not to think of the woman she'd seen him with the day before. The hardest thing was that it was obvious that it wasn't a casual affair. When she'd seen them together, they looked married.
“It'll grow back,” he said, feeling helpless again. He always felt inadequate and uncomfortable around her.
“My hair will. Our marriage won't,” she said sadly. She knew they had agreed not to discuss it for another month, but it was difficult not to.
“Are you sure of that?” He looked her in the eye, and waited for her answer.
“Aren't you? I get the impression you've already made your mind up.” She had certainly gotten that impression watching him with the English girl outside Ralph Lauren.
“You can never be sure. It's hard not to remember the good times.”
“They don't seem that long ago to me,” she said honestly. “Maybe you were unhappy for longer than I was.”
“I don't think unhappy's the right word. Confused. I've been confused ever since you got sick. It changed you.” It wasn't even an accusation. It was a statement. And for him, it justified his behavior and was a ticket to freedom.
“I think it changed both of us. I don't suppose things like this ever leave you where they found you. It's a long, hard road to survival.”
“It must be terrible,” he said, sympathetic for the first time. He was gentler these days, she realized now. Falling in love had mellowed him. But she didn't find that as touching as she might have. “You've been through an awful lot.”
“With more to come,” she smiled. “Four and a half months exactly.”
“And then what?”
“Then I wait to see if I get a recurrence. Five years seems to be the magic number. Supposedly I had the right kind of tumor for the good odds, and the chemo is supposed to give me extra insurance. I guess you just go on with your life, and try not to think about it. The women I know who've survived for a long time claim that they don't think about it anymore except when they go in once a year for routine checkups. I'd like to be there now. This is still pretty scary.” It was the first real conversation they'd had in three months, and she was amazed he was willing to talk about it. Whoever the girl was, she had almost made him human. But Alex didn't feel grateful to her, only envious and sad, and angry.