The Affair

On his next call he began speaking in fluid French. She stared out the window as the urban landscape passed by her, her entire attention focusing on the sound of him. At first, she tried to see if she could pull out any words that she might comprehend. When she couldn’t, she found herself relaxing to the sound of his voice: the rich resonance, the rhythmic cadence, the foreign words blending together into a sensual anthem that both lulled her and created a tickle of excitement along her skin and at her core.

She cast a sideways, covetous glance at him, wondering all the while what she’d gotten herself into. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up crashing and burning like a novice behind the wheel of a superfast, high-tech Montand car.

For the hundredth time, she repeated a mantra for caution inside her head.

She was so caught up in the sound of Va

He drove directly to a lovely spot atop a small hill. There was a lagoon with swans floating serenely on it to the right of Emma. He parked behind a hearse, three other luxury sedans, and a Nissan. In the distance, Emma caught a glimpse of the coffin down the small hill to the left of them topped with a lush, colorful flower arrangement. Her anxiety ratcheted up several degrees when she saw the pinched expression of Mrs. Shaw as she ascended the slight rise to the road. A handsome older man with a mane of silver hair followed her along with a younger, dark-haired man.

Emma got out of the sedan and went around the back to join Va

“Where have you been?” Mrs. Shaw asked Va

“There was something I needed to take care of,” Va

“You okay?” the young man asked in a quiet, confidential tone. Here was a friend to him, Emma immediately realized. She was glad of it. Va

Va

“And of course you’ve already met my aunt, Vera Shaw.”

Well, here was some news, Emma thought, hiding her shock. She’d had no inkling Mrs. Shaw was his aunt. Vera Shaw was nowhere near as welcoming as her brother or Niki Dellis had been.

“We should begin,” Vera told him tensely. Va

One look into his impassive features and stormy eyes and Emma knew it was a thousand times worse for him. Her self-consciousness diminished almost to nothing upon seeing his carefully controlled emotional state.

There were only three other people attending the simple service besides her, Niki, Va

It was a short, simple ceremony, but the beautiful surroundings and the luminous summer afternoon seemed to bless it as special. Va

As the minister spoke, Emma glanced curiously around. The paradox of Va

Was it usual for a husband to be buried next to both his wives? Emma thought it odd, but didn’t have enough experience to know. And to whom did the fourth grave belong?

The minister led them in a prayer, and Emma cast her gaze downward. At the word forgive, Va

The realization slowly dawned on Emma that it wasn’t just her who seemed awkward at the funeral. Everyone there seemed tense, as if there were a million unspoken words zooming around their bowed heads, words Emma herself couldn’t comprehend any more than she had Va

Poor Cristina, to have her life memorialized in such a stilted, emotionless fashion.

As the small gathering began to dissipate at the end of the ceremony, Va

“Thank you,” she said thickly a moment later, blotting her face.

“Someone should cry for her,” he said simply. His eyes were dry and clear.

After she’d dried her face, he took her hand and started to lead her up the hill. He paused when Niki approached them.

“Niki, would you mind?” Va

“Where are we going?” she asked Va