The Last Dress from Paris(35)
“I’ve spent the past days telling myself the very same thing. But it’s been over a year, Anne. Do you honestly think it will get better? That he will become a better husband? If I’m ever going to be happy again, something has to change. He won’t and I can’t, not in this life. I doubt in this marriage. I would never have chosen this, but when I left the church that day, I felt differently, more understood than I have in so long.” She pauses, wondering whether to go on. “I’m seeing Antoine today, this afternoon.”
Alice watches Anne close her eyes, as if she wants to be supportive, to give Alice her approval to enjoy this glimmer of lightness. But she’s always been practical, her Anne, and is duty bound to remind her of the dangers too.
“I will do everything I can to help you, but I must caution you to be very careful, Alice. What is it you want from this? And if you get it, will you know what to do with it? Will it, in fact, cause you a much bigger problem than the one you already have?”
“Maybe I just need the supportive friendship of another man more my age? Or maybe it’s more than that, I don’t know. It might sound weak, but he makes me feel more like the woman I want to be. He makes me want to put myself before anything else.”
“That isn’t weak, Alice, but it is the exact opposite of the life you came here for, whether you realized it or not. You need to be very sure he is worth the risk.”
She can’t be sure. Of Antoine or Albert or even herself right now. Alice is back on her feet, no longer listening, drawing a line through their conversation. Anne stands, too, but is forced to direct her comments to Alice’s back.
“I am speaking to you purely as a friend, Alice. And what sort of friend would I be if I told you not to put your own happiness first? I do want you to be happy, but please, take it very slowly. You’ve only seen what Antoine has chosen to share with you so far, and nothing else. How much can anyone truly know in a few short meetings?”
“Perhaps you are right.” Alice turns to face Anne again. “But every minute I spend with Antoine brilliantly highlights what little happiness there was before him.”
“Okay, so he can maybe help you decide what is missing from your private life, but whether he is the man to provide that for you? That is an entirely different question. One that surely takes much longer to be convinced of.”
The two women stand, looking at each other, Anne’s face pleading for caution, Alice’s impassive to the warning. Anne makes one final attempt.
“Enjoy his company, if you think you can do it unnoticed. Be happy, Alice. Remember how he makes you feel, create some wonderful memories and use them to inform your decisions, but . . .”
Alice hears the permission and elects to gloss over the caveat that is implied.
“Can you also please call Dior and order me the Debussy dress from the last show?”
“Yes.” Anne reaches for her notepad, slipping seamlessly back into her professional role.
“But when you do, please warn them that I need it very soon. I don’t want to go through all the usual fittings. They have all my latest measurements. I’d like them to do it quickly.” Alice pauses as Anne finishes scribbling, and then tries to justify the urgency. “We have lots of big events coming up and, well, I just think it could be perfect for one of them.”
“I’ll update the cards too.”
Anne smiles. It is perhaps impossible not to when, for the first time since Anne arrived at the residence a year ago, Alice seems to have a genuine reason to smile.
* * *
? ? ?
Asking her driver to deliver a handwritten note to Antoine’s home on the rue des Beaux-Arts after she cut their meeting short in the church was reckless, stupid, and quite possibly futile. She has no idea if he’s read it or if, as he suggested, he’d still like to join her for a walk in the Jardin du Luxembourg today. But she’s calculated the risk is worth it, because standing next to him in total silence she would feel more appreciated than she does sat at Albert’s lavish dining table, dripping in jewels. The way Antoine is with her feels thrilling and terrifying, and either way she knows she wants more of it—of him. The way he makes every part of her body switch on.
Antoine’s been present in her thoughts practically every day. They’ve done nothing wrong, so far, and it can stay that way. But she wants to be out of the residence, in the fresh air, to feel seen and be heard by someone who isn’t interested in anything other than her. Is that so wrong when it feels so needed, when she has been so starved of it by the man who promised to put her first? And maybe she does want to dive a little deeper too. To hear more of what he has to say about her life.
How it could be different.
Besides, meeting a man for a walk through a public park may well be mild compared to what Albert would consider acceptable for himself.
* * *
? ? ?
The meeting with her husband goes exactly as Alice might have predicted. Just like she imagines most of Albert’s business meetings might be conducted. It’s short, to the point, an efficient exchange of needs and preferences, and then she is effectively dismissed with a hefty to-do list to carve up among the staff. He has a lunch date with associates at Chez Georges in the second arrondissement and doesn’t want to be late. There is a mild moment of panic toward the end of their meeting when she thinks he is going to request the driver she has already booked, before he confirms he is being collected. She stands back at her bedroom window when he leaves half an hour later, looking onto the courtyard when a sleek black Jaguar pulls in. It’s not a car she recognizes, but clearly it is known to the guards, who would never have let it enter otherwise. The driver is obviously well known to Albert, too, since he chooses to sit in the front passenger seat. The last thing Alice sees is the long blond hair of the driver drape over the shoulder of her husband as the two of them embrace before the car pulls back out onto the rue du Faubourg.