Before I Do(85)

“But you listened to me?”

She shook her head. “When you were staying at Hillary’s, I asked my friend Warwick to come around. He knows about computers.” Vivien started biting one of her nails, a habit she abhorred. “He helped me access Benedict’s laptop. I had this instinct that he was hiding something there, the way he closed it whenever I walked into the room.”

Audrey’s eyes were pinned on her mother’s face now; she had no clue what she might be about to say. “There were photos, in a file, of women. Lots of women, posing for him. Some women I had met, his ‘protégées’ from the studio.”

“Posing for his art?” Audrey asked, hearing her naivety as soon as she said it.

“No, Audrey, not for his art.” Vivien winced, clearly pained by the memory. “They were in a file marked ‘Tax Returns,’ and they were”—she blushed—“explicit. All date stamped, taken in the time we’d been together.”

Audrey took a moment to digest this. Vivien pressed her knuckles into her other hand. “I should have told you, but I was ashamed.”

“Why? What did you have to be ashamed of?”

“Because I loved him,” Vivien sobbed, her face finally breaking. “Because I loved him, even then, when I could see what he was. I still wanted him, my body wanted him. What kind of monster does that make me?”

Audrey got up from the floor now and went to sit on the bed next to her mother. She put an arm around her shoulders. “It doesn’t make you a monster.”

“I thought you already knew what he was. To tell you about the photos, the indignity of it, I couldn’t bear it.” Vivien pressed her hands over her eyes. “I have always gotten love wrong, haven’t I?”

“You haven’t.” Audrey leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“Brian was the best of them, I see that now. I risked everything because a man flattered me and ran his hand down my shoulder blade in the mirror of a gallery.”

This detail twisted something in Audrey’s stomach.

“And now you’re seeing Brian again,” Audrey said.

“No, I—” She shook her head.

“You gave me the wrong letter—the one you meant for him.”

Vivien hung her head. “I had forgotten that was in my bag.” She sighed. “It wasn’t something I planned. We ran into each other in Florence last month. It can’t go anywhere, I know. I can’t go through another divorce,” Vivien said, fighting to keep her voice even.

“Maybe you need to stop marrying people then?” Audrey said, and suddenly they were both laughing. Audrey felt the release of it, like a glacier melting into a pool of warm water. It was not even especially funny, but the laughter was infectious and soon they could not stop. When they finally caught their breath, Audrey said, “I miss this. I miss how we used to be together.”

“So do I.” Vivien’s face flinched, as though the memory alone was enough to cause her pain. “You left when I needed you.”

“I couldn’t deal with seeing you so sad; I thought you blamed me. And then when I failed my exam, another failure, there was nothing for me to stay for.”

“Losing you that summer was so much worse than losing Benedict. I realized how I had come to rely on you; I suppose I tried to stop being so needy after that.” Vivien ruffled Audrey’s hair with a hand.

“You shut me out. I thought you hated me.”

“Oh, Audrey, I could never hate you. I love you more than my life.” She made a “tsk” noise and then she hugged Audrey, a proper tight hug.

“Can I ask you something else, and please be honest?” Audrey asked, and Vivien nodded. “Did you think I was going to fail that math exam? Did you think I was deluded, ever thinking I could study astronomy?”

Vivien paused, weighing the question for a moment.

“I’m not surprised you failed on that occasion, no. It was a lot to ask of yourself, going back to a subject you hadn’t studied in years, trying to cram it all in so quickly. Your tutor said it would have been ambitious for anyone.” She paused, squeezing Audrey’s hand. “But you’ve always been as bright as a button, darling. If you’d given yourself a proper amount of time, I’m sure you would have breezed through it. I never understood why you gave up on it, why you didn’t retake it. I have made a conscious effort not to judge your career choices, the way my parents judged mine. I always felt you had a calling, though”—she pointed up—“coming from up there.”

Audrey leaned into her mother and blinked back a tear. “Oh God, I’ve ruined everything,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I think I’ve misread a lot of what happened back then. I wasn’t honest with Josh. I had cold feet about getting married and making a mess of it.”

“Like me, you mean,” Vivien said ruefully.

“I’m not blaming you. This was my fault.”

“I don’t think bad judgment is hereditary,” Vivien said, hugging Audrey close. “Besides, I never saw myself in you. You are just like your father, and he was loyal as a St. Bernard. So, what are you going to do?”

Audrey wiped her eyes and stood up.

“I’m going to wash my face. I’m going to get dressed. Then I’m going to go after Josh and win him back.”