“I guess we just have to make the best of it,” Bill said quietly, as they pulled up in front of the restaurant he'd chosen for lunch. It was Italian, and immensely popular, and once again very chic. “Maybe you're right. Maybe we don't have a choice, although I hate to believe that.” But in her case, he could see no way out, although he found it hard to believe that the French courts would allow Gordon to starve her and their sick child, but maybe she was right, and they would.
“If I leave him,” Isabelle said, looking unhappy, “it would be the most selfish thing I could ever do. Gordon wouldn't give me a penny more than he had to, and I wouldn't be able to make Teddy as comfortable as he is. I would be doing it strictly for myself, and how could I do that to him? The balance is already precarious enough for him as it is.”
“You can't do it,” Bill said simply. “I don't mean to taunt you. I think I get greedy when I spend time with you. I see what life could be, and has never been for either of us.”
“Maybe it's only like this between us because all we have are phone calls, and a few hours together every few months. Maybe if we had married each other, it wouldn't be like this.”
“Do you really believe that?” he asked, looking her straight in the eye.
She hesitated for a long time, and then silently shook her head. “No, I don't. But we'll never know. We can't even allow ourselves to think of it,” she said, closing a door in her head.
“Is dreaming about it another luxury we can't afford, like love?” he asked, looking unhappy.
“I think so. If we ask for more than we have now, or try to take it, we'll only hurt each other in the end. I think we just have to be grateful for what we have, and not ask for more. You're the dearest friend I have in the world, and I love you for it. Bill, you know that. Don't let's spoil it by wanting more.” She had felt the same pull he had since the night before. It was so wonderful being together, walking, talking, laughing, dancing, sharing waffles and croissants. But then what? What would happen when they went home? She wasn't going to allow Bill to do anything foolish, even if he wanted to, she knew that the rest was something they couldn't have. Just as he would, she would have loved it, but she was willing to accept knowing that it wasn't theirs to have. But Bill looked stubborn as he looked at her, before the driver opened the car door.
“I want more,” he said bluntly, and suddenly she laughed.
“Well, you can't have it. You're being a spoiled brat.”
“I feel alive for the first time in years.” He looked it too. And so did she. She felt as if she had dropped ten years since the day before.
“It was the bangers at breakfast. I think they went to your head.” She had decided that the only way to handle it was to refuse to take him seriously, but she was startled by all that he had said. “Maybe we can promise to meet here once a year, for a few days like this. Maybe that will be enough.” It was all she could think of in lieu of a life with him.
“You know as well as I do that it's not enough,” he said stubbornly.
“What do you suggest? That we run away to Brazil? Bill, be serious. Think of what you're saying. Don't be crazy. And don't expect me to be crazy with you. I can't.” He knew her well enough to know that she would never jeopardize her child, that was the crux of it for her. But he wasn't sure she'd ever have left Gordon anyway. She was too proper to do anything as outrageous as that. And even though he was rotten to her, she was incredibly loyal to him.
“You can't like taking his abuse.”
“I don't. And it's not. He has simply removed himself from me.”
“He abandoned you emotionally years ago. What's left, other than the fact that he pays Teddy's bills?”
“That's enough. It's all I need.”
“That's insane. You're forty-one years old. You need more than that.”
“I don't even think about it anymore,” she said firmly, trying to resist all that she felt for him.
“Then you should.”
“I think you need a drink, and a nap. Maybe sedation.” She had never seen or heard him like this. It touched her, but there was nothing she could do about any of it. And she knew it. In another day, she had to go back, two days at most. All she could do was enjoy the time they had, and not spoil it by wanting more. But suddenly he was refusing to see that, and he seemed to want to jeopardize everything by wanting too much. “You have to be sensible now.”
“Why?” he asked her as they got out of the car.
“You know why. Because like it or not, we have no choice. You're only torturing yourself. Or me at least. You have a right to get free if you want to, and maybe you should. But my situation is more complicated than that. Teddy's life depends on what Gordon provides for him.” And she couldn't afford the uncertainty of counting on someone else, not even Bill. Gordon was the boy's father, and owed at least that much to him.
“He'd have to be a monster to withdraw that from you.” She didn't comment for a moment and then looked Bill in the eye again, and spoke clearly and firmly so he would know she meant what she said.
“I'm not going to put it to the test. I can't.”
“I understand,” he said quietly, and followed her into the restaurant. He didn't speak again until they sat down. “I'm sorry I brought it up. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that none of this makes sense. We're both living with people who make us unhappy, and when we're together, it feels so right.” Suddenly he wanted to risk it all for her.
“Maybe it feels right because we're not really together. Maybe we'd make each other as unhappy as they do. We don't know.” Everything that had been unspoken between them was now suddenly out in the open, and in some ways it was a relief. They had been hiding behind their friendship, and suddenly he was making it clear that he wanted more. But she was making it just as clear that it was impossible for her, no matter what she felt for him. There was far more at stake than that. And she wasn't going to throw Teddy's life or health away for the dream of a romance. She was far too sensible for that. No matter how much she cared about Bill, and admired him, her son came first. And he respected her for that, he always had, and always would.
“I accept what you're saying, Isabelle,” he said clearly, as they sat at a table under an umbrella, protecting them from the June sun. “I would never jeopardize Teddy's health. But I want you to know how much I care about you. I won't put you or your son at risk. In fact I'd like to help you with him if I can. But I'm not willing to pretend I don't give a damn, or that I don't want more. I want you to know that.”
“I know that, Bill,” she said softly. “You've been so good to me for so long.” For the past four years, other than her children, he was all she had.
“Not good enough. Not as good as I'd like to be.
I'm just tired of the hypocrisy of our lives. You pretend to be his wife, I pretend to give a damn when I go to black-tie events with Cindy. I'm not sure I can fake it anymore. I'm not sure I want to. I don't think the rewards are worth the price.”