“Children,” he said with derision. “My mother was twenty one, my father twenty four. They didn’t know what they were doing with their lives, they didn’t have any idea how different they were, nor…”
“Nor?” She prompted, when he bit off his statement all of a sudden.
“Of the obstacles they’d face,” he finished grimly.
“What obstacles?” She reached for a raisin, eating it on autopilot, before reaching for another.
“It’s not important.”
“Not to this,” she said, impatiently, waving her fingers between them, “But I’m interested anyway. Do you mind sharing?”
“It’s personal,” he finished flatly, the two words putting her in her place in a way nothing else could have. Skye stiffened, her stomach backflipping. They were not a real couple. This wasn’t a real date.
“Okay,” she forced a smile to her face, overbright and undoubtedly unconvincing. “So your dad and his high school sweetheart obviously made it up, enough for him to become godfather to your fiancé.”
“Ex-fiancé. And yes, that’s right.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his stubble-covered throat drawing her gaze and holding it for several seconds too long. “My parents’ marriage was—,” he paused, taking a drink as he searched for the right word. “Volatile.”
“How?”
He lifted one dark, cynical brow. “In all the ways you can imagine. For my sake, they agreed to try to make it work, but there were inherent problems to contend with, and no matter how much they wanted to be together, it just wasn’t possible.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“They divorced when I was seven. My mother died two years later. Her life, it’s fair to say, spiraled downwards once their marriage ended.”
Sympathy filled Skye’s eyes with salty tears and this time, she was the one to reach for Matthieu’s hand, curving her fingers into his, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
He shrugged his shoulders, as though to feign nonchalance, but when he looked away, his face in profile was that of a man trying to get control of his strong emotions.
“I spent a lot of time with Clare, but particularly once we were in high school. Her father is a diplomat and was stationed at the embassy in Boston. Rather than transfer to school there, she stayed here as a boarder, and spent her holidays with my father or grandfather. Wherever I was,” he concluded with a lift of his shoulders.
“And you two fell in love.”
He nodded slowly.
“Wow.” Skye bit down on her lip. “And you’ve been together ever since?”
“No. We weren’t romantically involved in school. We made out a couple of times, nothing more. She went overseas for college, so did I. We didn’t see each other for a couple of years. Then, when my father died, after the funeral,” his voice was strained. “We reconnected.”
Skye shook her head sadly. He hadn’t directly referred to his father’s death, and though she’d guessed he might not be around any longer, it was still sad to contemplate that reality for Matthieu.
“But now? You’re not friends anymore?”
“No.” The blunt answer left little room for doubt.
“So it wasn’t an amicable split?”
“No.”
“You must have loved her very much.”
His eyes lanced hers. “Yes.”
“Okay.” She nodded, tamping down on her very natural curiosity. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
He considered that a moment. “No.”
She couldn’t help it. She let out a soft laugh. “They’re going to think you haven’t told your fiancé much at all.”