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I’ve tried to accept he’s seeing someone else, but it’s hard. It’s made even harder because he told me it was a misunderstanding, but hasn’t said another word about it since. I tried to bring it up once after he came back from Cannes, but he changed the subject abruptly. He’s rarely at home, but when he is, he’s not his usual light-hearted self, and Daisy asked him if he’s sad, which tore at me even more than my own sadness.
There’s definitely something strange going on with him, and he’s not being straight with me. My heart tells me so. I feel his pain and my own, and the result is a kind of prolonged agony I can’t escape.
I’m not sleeping well, and I’m barely eating. Juliette says I’ve fallen madly in love and she’s happy I’m feeling this deep emotion at last. She says if you haven’t experienced devastating love; you haven’t really lived. I texted her back that if this is love, I’d rather have no part in it.
She says to have faith, and that it will work itself out for the best, but I’m struggling to get through each day, never mind be optimistic about the future. It sounds weak, I know, and once upon a time I wouldn’t have imagined myself accepting this, but I don’t want to visualise a future without him. When I do, I feel myself sinking into an abyss of black despair.
On the rare occasion I bump into him, he’s withdrawn and acts as if he doesn’t have a spare minute to spend with me. A voice deep inside me whispers that we’re perfect for each other, and if it’s true he’s not with the woman in the photo, why won’t he acknowledge it? It’s not like I’m asking for a wedding ring. I understand he must marry someone eventually from the right background, but as soul destroying as it is, I already accepted that when I slept with him and said we could be friends.
It’s not that I actually think we’re only friends. If we are, then he’s an unusual kind of friend. It’s just that I was willing to let him kid himself there’s nothing more serious between us if that’s what it takes to be with him.
I told Juliette in our endless texts, which are the only thing that keeps me going right now through this madness, I realise it’s pathetic to accept the minimum just so I can be with him.
She said she doesn’t think it’s pathetic at all. She thinks it’s honest. But then again, aside from being a hopeless romantic, she’s also French, and we’re well known for having unorthodox affairs of the heart, so I suppose that’s why it didn’t seem so terrible for me to be with him without a commitment.
On the night we slept together, I think I would have said anything to feel his hands on me again. I blame the sex. It’s so hot with him I can’t think clearly when he touches me. Although, at that point, we hadn’t even slept together, but the taste of him in the kitchen was enough to make me desperate for more. And how he made me come with his mouth has ruined me for anyone else, for evermore. He’s my addiction, and I don’t want to cut off my supply, even though I know I should.
I keep meaning to have it out with him and ask him what he meant by a misunderstanding. The only thing I can think of is he’s seeing Lizzy Archer to get his family off his back, which makes sense. Whatever he’s doing, clearly, it’s not making him happy. In fact, I’ve never seen him so glum. He is usually all jokes and banter, but that’s the old Sebastian and I miss him so much. It’s not just the sex I miss, it’s the connection, and how he used to look at me over the table, like he was ravenous for me, not breakfast.
‘Friends who fuck,’ I say aloud to myself, rolling the crude phrase over my tongue. Honestly, I’d go for that again if he offered it to me. It’s better than not having him at all, and now we don’t even talk. It’s like being cast into hell and the only glimmer of light in my dreary, dark days is sweet Daisy. I love her so much and don’t want to mess things up for her, but I truly don’t think I can carry on like this much longer. Summer is coming to an end and I’m considering reaching out to the agency to ask if they can find me a new position. Every time I decide I’ll do it, something pulls me back from the edge, and I wait a bit longer to see if anything changes.
What I really should do is return to Paris and forget all about Sebastian Rochester, but I can’t bring myself to leave London. Not just yet. If I could get a new position, he and Daisy would still be nearby and the thought of it comforts me, even if I wouldn’t be in their lives anymore.
It’s a strange experience to love someone so deeply that all the things you thought were so important before, disappear into the ether and instead there’s a certainty in your bones that none of it really matters. You are supposed to be together, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. Why can’t he see it too?
I never thought of myself as a romantic. Juliette totally has my back, which is a relief. I couldn’t stand it if she judged me. She says to follow my heart and give love a chance to work its magic. Things have a way of working out, but you need to be patient.
I just hope love works its magic soon, or I’m going to have to put some actual distance between us and move out of this house. The more Seb avoids me, the more I suspect he wishes I would leave, but he’s too kind to say. That makes me shudder with humiliation and I turn the thought over and over in my mind, torturing myself as I wonder whether it’s true.
My shifts at the centre help keep me sane, even though I’m sad that Sebastian only arrives home a few minutes before he knows I have to leave, and he’s upstairs in his room by the time I get home, even if it’s not late.
And then one evening, just as my shift ends, Richard calls me into his office and asks if I have a few minutes. He wants to know how my nanny job is going and whether I see myself doing it long term, or if I’m open to something new.
The question piques my interest, so when he invites me to sit down and offers me a drink, I accept. What is there to rush home for, anyway? Sebastian will avoid me as usual, and Daisy will be in bed by now. We have a pleasant chat and I warm to him even more. He’s been kind to me since I started volunteering and if I wasn’t so in love with Sebastian, perhaps I’d respond to his obvious interest in me. He asked me out for a drink a while back and I politely declined, but I get the feeling he’s the persistent type.
‘You work for one of the Rochester brothers, I understand?’ he says.
I’m startled he knows who I work for because I don’t recall telling him.
He sees the confusion on my face and explains he saw Sebastian pick me up a while ago.
‘Ah,’ I say. ‘I didn’t realise you two knew each other. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve mentioned your name to Sebastian.’
Richard smiles, and for no reason I can pinpoint, I get goosebumps. Something isn’t quite right about his reaction.
He tells me they were both at Eton. ‘I’m afraid we rather came to blows back in the day.’
I must look concerned because he says, ‘Oh, don’t be alarmed. That’s all so long ago. I’m sure we’d be the best of friends if we were to get reacquainted. Boys will be boys and all that.’
My mind switches back to that fateful evening Sebastian collected me after work. It was raining and I remember every detail because it was the one night we spent together. He was odd about Richard talking to me and went all alpha on me, saying someone can always pick me up and I shouldn’t trust anyone else. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t know him, or if he did, he gave no indication of it. No, that was when Sebastian was open with me, and I can’t imagine him hiding it if he recognised him from school.
Richard pulls me back to the moment when he asks whether I would consider working for him full-time at his head office in central London. He praises me profusely and says how impressed he is by my dedication to the kids, and how much I’ve contributed to the smooth running of the centre.
This was the last thing I expected, and I just stare at him as my mind ticks over and I process what he’s saying.
I’m a nanny, not an administrator.
‘Nathalie?’ he says, when I don’t reply after some time.
