Perfect Together by Kristen Ashley

That said, seeing her standing and without the froth of scarf and long duster, it was much more obvious she’d lost weight. If she hadn’t donned her usual mask and armor, she would appear frail.

“Good morning, Wyn,” she greeted as she glided to the tiny table where I sat and lowered herself to the cushion of the chair across from me.

She matched the color palette.

“Good morning, Colette,” I replied.

“The house is rather quiet,” she noted with the iron will of a woman who knew all in it heard her shrieking at her husband an hour before but was intent to ignore it. “Where has everyone gone?”

“The men are out doing man things. Manon is getting ready,” I answered.

“At ten in the morning?”

“It’s eight our time.”

“Ah.” She looked to the street even as she noted, “I’m pleased to see you’re wearing your wedding rings even if you and my son are no longer married.”

I wasn’t about to mention our upcoming re-nuptials.

If Remy wanted them to know, Remy would tell them.

Though I did think it safe to say, “Remy asked me to put them back on.”

“Well, it’s lovely you cared to see to his feelings on that.”

Don’t bite, Wyn.

But I bit.

“Once we were back together, I would have done it myself. He just got there first in asking.”

She turned to me. “Of course, you love him so very deeply.”

Okay.

I tried.

But I wasn’t going to do this with her. Be her target when there was no one else at whom to aim her venom.

“Colette—”

“You need to talk to my son, and he needs to talk to his father.”

Oh hell no.

I wasn’t going to battle for her either.

I opened my mouth again.

But she said, “Remy’s misdeeds are not on his father’s shoulders.”

I closed my mouth because I had no idea what she meant by that.

“Guillaume has been living three years in agony,” she went on. “I’ll not die, knowing my husband shoulders a burden that isn’t his.”

It was truth I spoke when I said, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Her gaze pierced mine. “I’m sorry, I’m quite sure you do.”

Okay.

I wasn’t going to play a guessing game with this woman either.

“Perhaps we can agree not to get involved in each other’s marriages,” I suggested.

“I can’t agree to that, considering my son left his beloved wife because he’s mostly his father’s son,” she retorted.

Although she was right about that (in some ways), I felt my brows rise, indicating my bemusement.

“Men need to do these kinds of things,” she continued. “I’m happy you came to realize that.”

“Do…what kind of things?”

“You don’t want me to say it.”

“Actually, since I don’t know what you’re going to say, I do.”

Colette arched a cunning brow. “He moved that woman in with him, didn’t he?”

According to Remy, they hadn’t spoken in three years.

How did she know that?

“How do you know about that?” I asked through stiff lips.

“Remy was a cerebral boy, cultured. He preferred drawing or playing piano to catting about with his friends. But when he did make a friend, he made that friend for life. And some of his friends have parents who are our friends.”

Wonderful.

This meant Remy told Beau or Jason about Myrna, and one of those two idiots told their folks.

“We were divorced,” I reminded her.

“And she was not his before? Or another one, perhaps?”

Oh my God.

“Remy wasn’t cheating on me.”

“That’s what I say to myself, dear.”

Right.

I didn’t live her life, as much as she wanted me to.

I was also done.

I stood and looked down at her. “My husband wasn’t cheating on me, Colette. And our marriage is none of your business. Now, truly, I am sorry about the state of things with you. So please, take this as honest and heartfelt when I say, don’t make this visit ugly. Make it about something else. And really, you need to make it about something else. You have five people who’ve come to visit you who’ll have nothing but memories soon. I’d suggest giving them good ones.”

With that, I started to move in front of her to get to the door.

I could hang with Manon in her room as she finished getting ready, the better to nag her to hurry so we could all get away from that house and this woman.

“He adores you, you know,” Colette noted as I passed.

I didn’t break stride as I said, “I know.”

“I’m not talking about Remy. I’m talking about Guillaume.”

That stopped me and I turned back. “I know that too.”

“So of course, he blames himself. It eats at him like acid.”

“He blames himself for what?”

“For Remy leaving you for another woman.” She fluttered a hand with perfectly peaked nails painted an unblemished buff. “The apple doesn’t fall and all of that.”

“Guillaume thinks…?” I couldn’t finish that.