Impossible (38 page)

Liam had come to London in March, closed his studio, and sent everything in it to Vermont. He left Xavier a message, but when he called him back, he discovered that Liam had already left town. He had only been there for two days. Xavier assumed correctly that Liam probably didn't want to see him either. The entire episode, Charlotte's accident, and Liam's decision, had been too traumatic for both of them. They had done their best to bury it and recover on their own. Xavier never even mentioned to his mother that Liam had come to town. It seemed best not to mention him anymore, so no one did.

What Marcie saw in April she would not have called recovery, but at least the hemorrhaging of life's blood from Sasha's soul seemed to have stopped. She seemed to have hit bottom, and was holding there, which was a vast improvement over what they had all observed before. Sasha's downward spiral into despair had been terrifying to watch, but she insisted she was feeling better, and even went out to the house in the Hamptons when she came back to New York in May.

Like everywhere else, it was full of memories of Liam now, but whatever she was thinking about him, she was not sharing with anyone. No one in the gallery had seen or heard from him in months. All they knew from Sasha and occasional e-mails from him was that he was with his family in Vermont, and he said Charlotte was doing better. She was in a rehab center by then, and able to stand up. Sasha was about the same. Her spirit seemed to be standing, but it wasn't walking yet. Her children and employees were anxious to see some sign of life again. Marcie almost stood up and cheered, when she saw her smile in May. She couldn't recall seeing her smile since early December, when she and Liam had gotten back together, briefly, before he left her.

Xavier flew to New York to celebrate her fiftieth birthday with her. All she wanted to do was spend a quiet evening with him and Tatianna. They had insisted on taking her to a restaurant at least, and she had chosen a small Italian restaurant in the village, which she said would be quiet. And in spite of her long months of mourning Liam, she had a nice time with her children.

“I can't believe I'm fifty,” she said, looking rueful. “How did I ever get this old?”

“You're not old, Mom,” Xavier said gently. They had given her a diamond brooch with two hearts intertwined, from both of them, and she loved it. She was still wearing the diamond bracelet Liam had given her for Christmas. It never left her wrist.

Marcie and Karen had offered to give her a little party, which she declined. The only parties she went to anymore were openings at the gallery. In the past five months, since Liam left, she had simply folded the show. She was like a small, tired animal hibernating in deep winter. Everyone who loved her was waiting for some sign of spring. Whatever it took, she had to get over Liam. And it seemed to be taking forever. It was as though their souls had been intertwined, and without the other half of her, she had curled up and died. Like Siamese twins. In a single year, they had become part of each other. Her life without him now was relentlessly bleak.

On the Memorial Day weekend, she was still in New York, and decided to go out to Southampton. Tatianna was away. And Xavier was in London. She was going back to Paris the following week. But she was looking forward to spending her last weekend at the beach before she left. It was still chilly, but spring was in the air, and when she left the gallery on Friday night, Marcie thought she looked better. Sasha was under constant scrutiny now, and all her loving observers consulted with each other as to how they thought she was. Her constant insistence that she was fine convinced no one but herself.

As she drove to Southampton that Friday night, the holiday traffic made the trip take forever. And as she sat at a dead stop from time to time, she thought of Liam. It was a luxury she rarely allowed herself anymore. She knew she couldn't afford it. And although the others couldn't see it, she was making efforts to get better. It was a rare indulgence for her to just sit back and think of him. He was still on her mind when she let herself into the house four hours later. By then, it was after eleven, and when she went to bed, it was midnight. She fell asleep, thinking about him, and in the morning, she felt better. It was almost as though allowing herself to bask in the memories for a few hours had relieved some of the pressure.

Navigating the shoals of grief had become familiar to her. She knew from losing Arthur that losing someone was a process, you didn't let go all at once, you let go inch by inch, or millimeter by millimeter. It had taken her a year after Arthur to feel human again. And it had been five months now since Liam. She knew that one of these days she'd get there, and wake up one morning without feeling as though she had a bowling ball on her chest. Little by little, the bowling ball was shrinking. She wondered from time to time how it was for him, or if he'd already forgotten. He had other things now to keep him busy, and she was happy to hear from Marcie that he had reported that Charlotte was so much better. She couldn't help wondering too if he was happy with Beth. There was no way for her to know, and maybe it didn't matter. He was hers now, for better or worse, whichever happened. She knew he would never leave her. He would never have left her the first time. He was the kind of man who stayed forever, once committed. It had been different with them because, however much they loved each other, the commitment had never been made. Just as she had predicted in the beginning, it had been impossible for them, just not for the reasons she'd expected. It had never even remotely dawned on her that he might go back to Beth. Without Charlotte's near-fatal accident, she knew he wouldn't have. Fate had intervened.

She forced him from her head again that night at sunset as she walked down the beach. She let her mind drift to other things, like Arthur and her children. Tatianna had had a serious boyfriend since February, one whom Sasha actually approved of. And Xavier was talking about living with the woman he'd been dating since Christmas, which was a huge change for him. It was time. He was twenty-seven.

She felt peaceful and comfortable for the first time in a long time as she sat down in the shelter of the dune grass to watch the sunset. The air was still chilly, but the sun had been warm all day. She lay down on the sand then, thinking about her children, the times they'd shared, the things she'd accomplished, the wonderful moments they'd had together. She had chartered another boat for them that summer. But it was at the beach that she had her private moments. She cherished them as well. They were times to think, and be grateful for her life, which she was starting to be again. She knew that in spite of the losses she'd suffered, she had many blessings, and was grateful for them all.

She was watching the sun go down quickly and wondered if she'd see the green flash as it hit the horizon. She loved watching for it, and as she lay there, she savored the moment. She wanted nothing more than she had right then. She needed nothing, wanted no one. She felt as though she were hanging in space, weightless, without burdens. She felt at ease in her own skin for the first time since December. It was, at last, the beginning of healing, and had been a long time coming.

She saw the green flash and smiled when it happened. It was like an omen of better things to come. There were still spots in front of her eyes from staring into the sun as it was setting, and what she saw then seemed like a vision. She couldn't see him clearly, but she saw his form and outline. She knew she was imagining it, maybe even hallucinating, and then she heard his voice. It was Liam. He was standing in front of her, with his back to the sunset, almost like a movie. She just lay there and stared at him and said nothing.

“Hello, Sasha.” She had no idea why he'd come. The last time she had seen him they had both been crying. This time, she just looked at him and smiled. It had been five months since she'd seen him.

“I was watching the sunset.”

“I saw you from the porch.”

“How's Charlotte?” She didn't want to know how Beth was.

“Much better. She just started walking.”

She didn't invite him to sit down. She just nodded. “Why did you come here?”

“I'm going back. I just wanted to come and say good-bye.”

“You already did that.” It was a strange, disjointed conversation between two people who had loved and lost each other. They had already said good-bye once, five months before. What was the point of coming back to do it again? “When are you going back?” It was a meaningless question. When he was going back no longer mattered. He already had, five months before.

“Tomorrow,” he answered, and then finally sat down on the sand beside her. He felt odd standing up and looking at her as she lay there. She seemed smaller than he remembered, and paler, and her hair seemed darker in sharp contrast to the ivory white face. She was more beautiful than he had remembered, and he had thought of her often. She had haunted him, like someone he had killed, and had to live forever after with the floating tormented vision of her face the last time he saw her. “I just wanted to see you once before I went back.”

“I thought we weren't going to do that.” Her eyes met his and held them. He had forgotten how piercing her eyes were, at the same time gentle and intense. She had kept her part of the bargain. She had never called him. And unlike what he was doing now, she had never shown up in Vermont. Coming back to torture her one last time seemed unfair to her, and she was sorry that he'd come. She would have to climb the hill of healing yet again. And the climb had already been hard enough.

“I didn't call you, because I was afraid you wouldn't see me.”

“You were right. I wouldn't. One good-bye was enough.” And they'd had more than that in the course of the year they shared. “Why did you come?” She knew there was another reason that he hadn't told her yet. She knew him better by then than he knew himself. But she could see how much he too had changed in the last five months. There was no boyhood left in his handsome face, only manhood. He had had his own journey of pain after he left. He had had three children and a wife to accompany him daily on his travels. She had had no one but herself, and the trip had been harder on her.

“Do you hate me?” he asked her. She should have. But she was beyond that, and had never gotten there anyway. She shook her head. It wasn't his fault.

“No. I love you. I probably always will.” His eyes went to her hand, and he saw both his bracelets still on her wrist.

“So will I.” The sun was down, and it had gotten cold. “Do you want me to go now?”

She was honest with him. “Not yet.” This might be her last look. She wanted to savor it before he left.

“I have to drive to New York tonight,” he said, for lack of something better to say. None of the things he had wanted to tell her seemed to make sense now. She had become someone else. Bigger, better, stronger, deeper. Trial by fire. It had purified her in some strange way.

“Why New York?”

“Because I'm going back.” He was being cryptic, and he confused her.

“Back where? Vermont?”

He smiled and shook his head. She had misunderstood. “No. London.”

“Why there?”

And then he knew he had to tell her. It was why he'd come. He realized when he saw her that he had already caused her too much pain. And even if she still loved him, the doors were closed. He could see it in her face.

“I left Beth. It didn't work. We both knew it in a month, but we tried anyway, for the kids' sake. It doesn't work that way. We left as good friends.” He laughed softly. “She's happy to be rid of me.” Sasha was watching him intently, trying to absorb what he'd just said. She suddenly wondered if she had imagined him and what she was hearing. Maybe he wasn't even there. Like a vision she had conjured in a dream. A lifelike hallucination.

“What did you just say?”

“I said Beth and I ended it. The divorce is final. I'm going back to London tomorrow. I wanted to see you before I left. If nothing else, I owe you an apology.” He knew that what he had done to her in December was inexcusable. But he had done it for his wife and kids. It was a poor excuse, but at the time it seemed the right thing. Sasha knew it too.

“You don't owe me an apology,” she said gently. “You did what you had to do.”

“And I damn near killed you.”

“I'm still here.” She sat up slowly. “I'm tougher than you think.”

“No. You're tougher than you think. I thought of you every day. Constantly.” He stretched out his arm, and she saw the watch.

“So did I,” she confessed. “Now what do we do?” Their eyes held, and they didn't reach out to each other. They hadn't touched each other, and maybe never would.

“Impossible or possible? It's up to you,” he asked softly, as the wind chilled them both, and then he moved closer to her. They were almost touching, but not yet. “What do you think?”

“I never thought you'd come back, Liam,” she said sadly. It was hard to believe he had, or know why he did. He had left her so often, and she had died so many times at his hands.

“I didn't either. I didn't think I could.”

He wanted to kiss her but now the decision was up to her. It had been his last time. This one was hers. He would respect whatever she said.

“Which is it?” He didn't want to press her, but he had to know.

“I don't know.” She sat looking out to sea, and then she turned to him and smiled. “Or maybe I do. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore which one it is. Life only gives you so many chances, and then for no reason at all, you get one more. People die, people leave, people come back. Maybe it doesn't matter, if you love each other. I love you, Liam. I always did. More than I knew.”

“More than I knew too. I thought it would kill me when I left you, but I had to do it.”

“I know.” She smiled again and he kissed her, gently, cautiously. It was like touching a summer breeze. He had never forgotten what it was like kissing her and holding her. In the end, he had taken her with him. Beth knew it before he did, and out of kindness sent him back.

He kissed her again and held her, and she whispered something into his chest. He felt it more than heard it, and looked down into her face. “What did you say?”