“Not this year. She left me.” He looked Sarah in the eye as he said it.
“She left you?” Sarah repeated, looking startled. “As in really left you, or as in for a few weeks to hang out in Paris?”
“She moved back. I'm buying out her half of the business. We're selling the house. I can't afford to buy that from her, too. I can use my half of the house money to buy her out of the business. Actually, I'm selling the house for her.” He looked calm as he said it. She could only imagine how he felt. Fourteen years out the window was hard to swallow. But he looked like he was doing okay. In some ways, it was a relief.
“I'm sorry,” Sarah said softly. “How did that happen?”
“It was long overdue. She was miserable here from the day she got here. I don't think she was happy with me, either. I guess not”—he smiled wryly—“or she'd still be here.” Even if he was taking it well, and knew it was for the best, it was still painful. They had been battling incessantly since Christmas. He was exhausted, and almost relieved now that it was over.
“I don't think it was about you,” Sarah consoled him. “I think it was about her, and living here, and not wanting to be here.”
“I offered to move back to Europe with her at one point, a few years ago. But that didn't do it for her, either. She's just not a happy person. She's very angry.” She had been angry right up till the last minute, and slammed the door when she left, which was not how he'd wanted to end it. She didn't know how to do it any other way. People left home in different ways, some in gentleness, others in anger.
“What about you? Did you meet the man of your dreams in Paris?” He looked anxious as he asked her.
“I made a friend.” She told him about her visit to the Château de Mailliard, meeting Pierre Pettit and his grandmother, and she told him all she'd seen and heard. She could hear the echo of Pierre's words, Go back and find a good one. She didn't say anything about that to Jeff. He had enough on his mind, and was still feeling raw after Marie-Louise left him. It was like when she ended it with Phil. She knew it was for the best, but it still hurt. “I had a great time,” she said quietly, as she finished her cappuccino. She didn't want to rub it in. He'd obviously had a rough time in her absence.
“I figured you did. You never e-mailed.” He smiled ruefully. It had worried him a little.
“I was savoring every minute, and I thought you were busy.” She told him again how sorry she was about Marie-Louise, and after that they wandered around, checking out the house, while he showed her new additions and details. The place had really come together in two weeks, just as he'd promised. “I'm going to sleep here tonight,” she said proudly. He smiled at how happy she seemed. She looked better than ever, and he was glad she was home. He had missed her, particularly lately. Marie-Louise had left the week before. But he hadn't wanted to tell Sarah till she got back. He needed time to adjust to it himself. It was still a little weird going home to an empty house. She had taken everything she wanted with her, and told him to keep or sell the rest. She had no great attachment to any of it, not even him, which was painful. Fourteen years was a long time. This was going to be an adjustment. The first couple of nights he almost laughed at himself. He realized that he missed the fighting. It had been the essence of their relationship for fourteen years.
“So what are you going to do today, Sarah?”
“Pack some stuff. Bring some things over. I want to start moving my clothes.” She didn't have that many. She had weeded out a lot of those, too. She was merciless now in her purging, getting rid of all the things she no longer needed or wanted.
“Do you want help?” he asked hopefully.
“Are you being polite, or do you mean it?” She knew he was busy.
“I mean it.” He wasn't as busy as she thought, and he wanted to help her.
“Then I want help. We can drive some stuff over, so I can stay here tonight. I'm not going to sleep at the apartment anymore.” It was over. She hadn't even wanted to sleep there the night before. Her new bed had been delivered on Scott Street. It was gorgeous, and very girly with the pink headboard. It was almost worthy of Lilli.
He went to her apartment with her, helped her carry armloads of clothes and boxes downstairs, and they drove over four loads of her things in both their cars. And then he helped her carry it all up to her bedroom. It was therapeutic for him. She could see that he was distracted. He looked a little shell-shocked.
“Do you think she'll come back again this time?” Sarah asked him about Marie-Louise when they stopped for lunch. She was starving. It was nine hours later in Paris. She noticed that he didn't eat much.
“Not this time,” he said matter-of-factly, as he toyed with the sandwich she'd made him. She had eaten hers in two minutes. “We both agreed it should be over. It should've been years ago. We were just too stubborn and too cowardly to let go. I'm glad we did this time. I'm putting the house on the market this week.” She knew he loved the house and had worked hard on it, she was sorry for him about that. But they were going to make a healthy profit, which was something at least. He said Marie-Louise wanted every penny she could get. He was paying her a hefty sum for her share of the business.
“Where are you going to live?” Sarah asked with interest.
“I'm going to get an apartment here in Pacific Heights, close to the office. It makes more sense.” They'd never been able to put their office in the house in Potrero Hill because it was too far for clients to come. “Maybe I should take your old one.”
“Don't. You'd hate it. It's awful.” Still, with his furniture, it would look better than it did with hers.
“I'm seeing a few places tomorrow. Do you want to come?” He seemed lonely and at loose ends, which was normal. Marie-Louise had never spent much time with him, but it was different now, knowing she was gone for good. No matter how difficult it had been, it left a void, and he hadn't yet figured out how to fill it. She was like a phantom limb now that she was gone. It ached at times, but he was managing without her.
“I'd love to see apartments with you. You're not going to buy another house?”
“Not yet. I wanted to let the dust settle first, sell the old one, and see what we get. I'll probably have enough to buy a condo after I pay her for the business. But I'm in no rush.”
“That's smart.” She approved. He was being sensible, practical, and generous with Marie-Louise, which was typical of him.
He helped her move more of her things after that. He hung around, and they ordered Chinese food for dinner. And then he left her. He came back the next day to see apartments with her.
“So how was your first night?” he asked when he picked her up. He was smiling, and he looked better than he had the day before, although he'd been very glad to see her. He had really missed her while she was gone. They had become good friends in recent months.
“It was fantastic. I love my new bed, and the bathroom is incredible. You could put ten people in that tub.” All night she felt like she was home. She had felt that way since the first time she saw the house. And now it was real. Her dream had come true at last.
They found an apartment for him that afternoon. It was small and compact. It wasn't exciting, but it was clean and in good condition, and a block from his office. It even had a small garden. And it was four blocks from her house on Scott Street. The location was perfect. It had a fireplace, which he liked. He commented to Sarah as they left that it was going to be weird living in an apartment, after so many years in his house.
He dropped Sarah off after that. He had to go back to his own place and start packing. He called her later that night.
“How are you doing, Jeff?” she asked kindly.
“I'm okay. It's depressing packing all this stuff. I'm going to sell what I can with the house, but I think I'm going to wind up putting a lot of it in storage.” The apartment he had rented was small, which was all he wanted for now. He had said that, eventually, he would buy another house, but not yet. It was too soon. It was an odd feeling for her now, too. After their off-and-on flirtation for the last five months, and occasional moments of near passion when he kissed her, she didn't know quite where they stood now, and neither did he. They had become friends over the past five months, and now suddenly he was free. They were both moving slowly, and with extreme caution. She didn't want to screw up their friendship for a romance that might not last anyway, or destroy the easy companionship they shared.