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Caitlyn padded to the sunroom and tried to get in the mood for Pilates before Leon woke up. But all she could think about was the first time Antonio had kissed her. He’d backed her up against a wall, literally and figuratively, in this very room, demanding she tell him about love. So she’d spilled her heart and turned the question back to him, expecting a profound tribute straight from the poetry books. An ode to his late wife about his devotion and the wonders of their marriage.
What do you know about love? she’d asked.
Nothing, he’d returned.
She’d assumed he didn’t remember love and stupidly thought he was asking her to help him. But really, he’d meant he’d never loved Vanessa. How awful it must have been for her sister, to be stuck in a loveless marriage with a man who wouldn’t divorce her solely because of the baby on the way. Instead, he’d forced her to put up with his infidelity.
How had Vanessa done it? How had she woken up each morning, her mind ripe with the knowledge that her husband had been intimate with another woman? Unrequited love was something Caitlyn had a special empathy for. Had her sister cried herself to sleep at night, the way Caitlyn had over the past few days? Why hadn’t Vanessa told her what was going on?
Inexplicably, she wished her sister was here so she could bury her head in Vanessa’s shoulder and weep out all her troubles. Which was the worst kind of juxtaposition. If Vanessa was alive, Caitlyn’s troubles would be nonexistent. She’d still be laboring under the false premise that marriage, commitment, love and sex were all tied up with a big, magnificent bow.
Leon woke up early. While Caitlyn fed him, her mind wandered back to Vanessa and it suddenly hit her that her sister’s possessions sat tucked away in the attic. Her sister might be gone, but Caitlyn could still surround herself with Vanessa. Maybe it would help ease Caitlyn’s bruised and battered soul.
She turned the babies over to Brigitte, who bundled them up for a ride in the triple-seated stroller, and then escaped to the attic. Attic might be a little grandiose of a term—it was really a small, unfinished room above the second floor, accessible by a narrow staircase next to the linen closet.
Caitlyn hadn’t been in here for over a year, not since she’d moved the bulk of Vanessa’s things after the plane crash. A coating of dust covered the items farthest from the entrance. The boxes near the front had been placed there recently and weren’t as grimy. Shortly after Antonio had returned, Caitlyn had asked the housekeeper to pack up the rest of her sister’s things.
Sitting down cross-legged, she opened the nearest untaped box. Clothes. She pulled out one of her sister’s silk blouses and held it to her cheek. The heavy, exotic perfume Vanessa had favored wafted from the fabric. All at once, Caitlyn recalled the last time she’d smelled it, when she’d been four months pregnant and had come to say goodbye before Vanessa and Antonio left for Thailand.
Tears slid down her face and she suspected the majority of them were because she missed Antonio. Not Vanessa. Apparently, her shame knew no bounds, but he’d been so lost last night. She’d wanted to tell him she wished there was a way to get past it, too. But she couldn’t see it.
The clothes weren’t helping. Pushing that box to the side, she dived into the next one, which was full of Vanessa’s toiletries, including two small, jeweled bottles of her perfume. Caitlyn pulled them out to give to Annabelle. The perfume would likely not last that long, but the bottles were encrusted with real semiprecious stones and the pair would be a lovely keepsake for their daughter.
Perhaps the children she shared with Vanessa were actually the answer Caitlyn had been seeking about how she was supposed to find the strength to live in the same house with Antonio. Had Vanessa considered the babies a good enough reason to stay with her husband despite the emotional pain he’d caused her? Leon, Annabelle and Antonio Junior were certainly the reason why Caitlyn was still here after all. She couldn’t imagine not waking up each day and seeing the faces of her kids. It was worth the sword through her heart every time she saw their father to get daily access to her children.
Maybe it had also been worth it to Vanessa to keep her family intact. Maybe that was why she hadn’t pressed for a divorce and stayed with Antonio even after she found out about his affair.
Drained, Caitlyn rested her head on the box. Her weight threw it off balance and it tumbled to spill its contents into her lap.
A leather-bound book landed on top. It looked like an old-fashioned journal. Curious, Caitlyn leafed through it and recognized her sister’s handwriting.
