a third person there, a man with black hair and black eyes who looked at her and her daughter as if they were the most precious beings on earth …
*
The cab driver was mercifully silent as he drove Philip back to his hotel room. Philip was so distracted that he wasn't sure he could have answered the man at all.
That was my daughter.
The thought echoed in his mind over and over again, like a bell that would not stop tolling. The reality of it was inescapable in a way that it hadn't been before. It was one thing to see the little girl at the bookstore, another thing to see her and to know for sure.
No … not the little girl. Victoria. A tiny person in her own right, one who was half him. It was something that his brain still struggled with. He couldn't believe that she was a part of him, and in that moment, no matter what else happened, he knew that she always would be. No matter what happened between himself and Marnie, a part of his heart would always belong to Victoria.
It was exalting. It was terrifying.
And Marnie …
He wasn't lying when he said he had thought of her often. As time had gone by and Philip had taken over more of the tasks that his family set before him, his thoughts often drifted back to his time in New York, and Marnie was a part of that. Sometimes, he had wondered if he had conflated her with a time of freedom in his life, when he had had fewer responsibilities and could do as he liked.
Upon seeing her again, however, he had learned that that was definitely not the case. She had grown from being a promising girl to a powerful woman. When he had heard that she was a novelist, he had been unsurprised to realize how good she was. When she looked at him with that small smile on her face, her eyes slightly narrowed as if she were prepared to see right through him, he had felt his heart beat faster.
She was magnificent, and regardless of what might happen, he wanted her as well.
However, as the recent weeks had taught him, what he wanted and what he could have were two different things. With a flinch of wariness, he turned on his phone to see several messages from his family there.
They came from both his mother and his father, and they read about like what he expected. They were disappointed with him and the choices he had made. They were furious that he left when things were going so well with the princess. They were covering for him now, but they would not do so forever.
For a moment, he was half-tempted to tell them about their granddaughter, to shock and horrify them with the very evidence of his wild ways, but he knew that that would be unfair to both Victoria and to Marnie. He knew his parents well, and the moment they knew about Victoria, they would swing into action. Perhaps Marnie would be paid off, something he knew would shock and disgust her, or perhaps darker doings would occur.
No, Philip knew that he had to play this one close to the chest for at least a short while. All he knew right this moment was that Victoria held his heart in her small hands and that he was beginning to suspect that her mother did the same.
Still fully clothed, he lay down on the big hotel bed, for the first time thinking about how empty it was. Since returning to Navarra, he had had several affairs, all brief, all forgettable. He wondered suddenly if Marnie had had the same luxury. Had her bed felt this empty after Victoria was born? How had she survived it?
He didn't know much about single parenting, let alone single parenting in the United States, but for the first time, he wondered how hard it was, how she had been alone.
Impulsively, he sent her a text.
How did you do it?
Her response was brisk and nearly immediate.
How did I do what?
Raise a daughter all on your own.
There was a longer pause while she typed out her response. He could imagine the two of them resting together now, sprawled on the couch and taking a break after their long day. For not the first time, he wished he was with them.
I
*
The cab driver was mercifully silent as he drove Philip back to his hotel room. Philip was so distracted that he wasn't sure he could have answered the man at all.
That was my daughter.
The thought echoed in his mind over and over again, like a bell that would not stop tolling. The reality of it was inescapable in a way that it hadn't been before. It was one thing to see the little girl at the bookstore, another thing to see her and to know for sure.
No … not the little girl. Victoria. A tiny person in her own right, one who was half him. It was something that his brain still struggled with. He couldn't believe that she was a part of him, and in that moment, no matter what else happened, he knew that she always would be. No matter what happened between himself and Marnie, a part of his heart would always belong to Victoria.
It was exalting. It was terrifying.
And Marnie …
He wasn't lying when he said he had thought of her often. As time had gone by and Philip had taken over more of the tasks that his family set before him, his thoughts often drifted back to his time in New York, and Marnie was a part of that. Sometimes, he had wondered if he had conflated her with a time of freedom in his life, when he had had fewer responsibilities and could do as he liked.
Upon seeing her again, however, he had learned that that was definitely not the case. She had grown from being a promising girl to a powerful woman. When he had heard that she was a novelist, he had been unsurprised to realize how good she was. When she looked at him with that small smile on her face, her eyes slightly narrowed as if she were prepared to see right through him, he had felt his heart beat faster.
She was magnificent, and regardless of what might happen, he wanted her as well.
However, as the recent weeks had taught him, what he wanted and what he could have were two different things. With a flinch of wariness, he turned on his phone to see several messages from his family there.
They came from both his mother and his father, and they read about like what he expected. They were disappointed with him and the choices he had made. They were furious that he left when things were going so well with the princess. They were covering for him now, but they would not do so forever.
For a moment, he was half-tempted to tell them about their granddaughter, to shock and horrify them with the very evidence of his wild ways, but he knew that that would be unfair to both Victoria and to Marnie. He knew his parents well, and the moment they knew about Victoria, they would swing into action. Perhaps Marnie would be paid off, something he knew would shock and disgust her, or perhaps darker doings would occur.
No, Philip knew that he had to play this one close to the chest for at least a short while. All he knew right this moment was that Victoria held his heart in her small hands and that he was beginning to suspect that her mother did the same.
Still fully clothed, he lay down on the big hotel bed, for the first time thinking about how empty it was. Since returning to Navarra, he had had several affairs, all brief, all forgettable. He wondered suddenly if Marnie had had the same luxury. Had her bed felt this empty after Victoria was born? How had she survived it?
He didn't know much about single parenting, let alone single parenting in the United States, but for the first time, he wondered how hard it was, how she had been alone.
Impulsively, he sent her a text.
How did you do it?
Her response was brisk and nearly immediate.
How did I do what?
Raise a daughter all on your own.
There was a longer pause while she typed out her response. He could imagine the two of them resting together now, sprawled on the couch and taking a break after their long day. For not the first time, he wished he was with them.
I
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