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Guillaume shook his head. “I do not understand what is becoming of this world.”
Which meant none of his father’s mistresses had behaved so badly, or they’d been easy to manage if they tried.
Remy didn’t go there.
“Do you need anything from me?” Guillaume asked.
He shook his head. “No, Dad. But thank you.”
Guillaume nodded.
Remy went for it.
“I chose poorly,” he admitted.
Guillaume tilted his head, his gaze growing soft, and he replied, “Fiston, we, none of us know the demons that plague a soul. Their purpose is to stay hidden and wreak havoc on the ones who love their host the most. I think you and I, and Wyn, we all know this.”
He clapped a hand on Remy’s shoulder and left it there before he continued.
“Now you have glimpsed this woman’s demons, and you’ve made the decision to treat her like she is as the rest of us are in one way or another, driven by invisible demons to do harm. And you intend to offer compassion.” He squeezed Remy’s shoulder. “Honestly, except for when I learned you and Wyn were reconciling, I’ve never been prouder. And, son, you have, over your years, given me many reasons to be proud.”
Remy held his father’s gaze, pushing aside the recent memory of his talk with his mother, pushing aside all the shit that was going down with Myrna, pushing aside how his family was getting dragged through it right along with him, and rooting himself in that moment.
Eyes locked to his boy, Guillaume knew the exact time to stop holding Remy by the shoulder and instead, tug his son into his arms and hold him a different way.
It was not lost on Remy that he’d held Sah in the exact same manner not too long ago when emotion had overwhelmed his boy.
It was just the first time in his life that he felt what Sah felt.
And fuck.
It was beautiful.
CHAPTER 30
Deserved Defeat
Wyn
“This is all kinds of fucked up.”
That was Sabre.
“We’ll leave before she’ll even be up tomorrow, Sah.”
And that was Yves.
“Yeah, because, unlike ninety-nine-point nine percent of grandparents in the world, she isn’t going to deign to drag herself out of bed to say goodbye to her only son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren before we go and, you know, before she dies.”
And that was my dramatic daughter.
“She’s asked us to meet her in the mural room before she retires to bed, something we all understand is very likely the last time any of us will see her, so we’re going to give your grandmother her wish and meet her in the mural room,” I declared.
“Who says ‘retires’?” Sah grumbled.
Colette did. Those were her words when she met us in the hall when we arrived back from taking Guillaume out for some gelato after we returned from the party at Beau and Katy’s.
We’d lingered over gelato.
It was late.
We were leaving the next morning at eight to get to the airport.
She had incurable cancer.
She needed to get to bed and so did we.
“Up and at ’em,” I prompted when none of my children moved.
They were lounging on Remy’s and my bed where they’d thrown themselves after we trooped up with excuses of using the loo and freshening up before we met Colette, but instead, we all filed in here to have an impromptu family meeting.
However, even at my command, my kids didn’t get up and at them. Since they were not paying me a lick of attention anymore, I turned to their father, who was standing at my side. He was also who all of them were watching.
He had his eyes to the bed, an expression on his face that made my heart leap into my throat.
“Remy?” I called.
He continued to stare at our kids, and I didn’t know if he was lost in thought, or he was very much right there, seeing them vividly.
I curled my fingers around his and whispered, “Remy.”
He didn’t answer me.
He asked our children, “Do you know how fantastic you are?”
Oh God.
Well, that answered that.
He was seeing them vividly.
I pressed close to his side.
“Yeah, Dad,” Manon answered swiftly.
“You’re smart and funny and kind and loyal,” Remy went on.
I started pumping his hand.
“And we got hella style from Mom.” Sah tried to inject some levity.
“Like Dad isn’t killin’ it in the style department.” Yves tried to help.
But Manon was reading the room.
“You’re fantastic too, Daddy,” she said.
Remy cleared his throat, squeezed my hand and announced, “I just want you to know that. Know I think it and know it’s true. Don’t ever forget it.”
Manon looked to me.
Sabre didn’t move his gaze from his dad.
Yves got up and gave his father a hug.
The kids didn’t get the lowdown of Remy’s conversations with his parents, but I did, so I wasn’t surprised, even if I was moved, at what just happened.
Sometimes we assume people know we feel as we feel and think as we think. We hope our love, and the reason we feel it, is understood.
