On the beach, Jean-Paul walked beside her. He wasn’t towering like Phillip, but next to Ava, who was a little over five feet six, he walked tall. The sea was benign, sliding smoothly up the stones, polishing them with surf before withdrawing in a flirtatious dance. The wind tasted of salt, blustering one moment, dropping the next, reflecting the awkward exchange between Ava and Jean-Paul. He wanted so much to hold her in his arms, to release the words locked inside his heart and tell her how deeply he loved her. He thrust his hands into his pockets and walked, commenting inanely on the flight of a seagull or the remains of a crab washed up on the beach, anything that came to mind to prevent him from spilling his soul. She in turn burned with the desire to be held by him, if only for a moment, a forbidden second on which she could feed during those interminable nights when she longed for him. She was reminded of the tragedy of sunset and without warning, she began to cry.
Jean-Paul stopped and held her shoulders, anxiously searching her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” he asked and his voice was so soft that it made her cry all the more.
She shook her head. “It’s no use, Jean-Paul.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s like a sunset. Something so beautiful I want to hold on to it. But then it’s gone.”
“Ava…”
“Or a rainbow,” she sobbed. “Loved from a distance, but impossible…”
He didn’t wait for her to finish, but pulled her into his arms and kissed her ardently. She didn’t have the strength to resist. She let him hold her and closed her eyes, relinquishing control. His kiss was urgent yet gentle and she wound her arms around his neck, letting him take her, willing the moment to last. But like all beautiful things the end was but a breath away and the anticipation of it made the kiss even sweeter. The high was followed by a terrible low, like falling off the arc of a magnificent rainbow into gray clouds. She thought of her children and Phillip and was flooded with guilt. She pulled away.
“I can’t,” she gasped, touching her lips still warm from his kiss. He stared at her in mortification, as if she had just pulled the earth away from under his feet. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t bear it.” She placed her fingers on his cheek, cold from the wind and wet from the drizzle. “We shouldn’t have come. In the garden everything is as it should be. We each have our place. Out here, there are no boundaries to keep us apart.”
“But we can’t go back now,” he said. “We have come too far for that.”
“Then what can we do?”
“I don’t know, Ava. All I know is what is in my heart. The more time I spend with you the more of my heart you take.” She rested her head against his chest and gazed out over the sea. It was misty on the horizon. She listened to the sound of the waves and the plaintive cry of a gull and felt her spirit flood with sadness.
“It is not meant to be, Jean-Paul,” she said at last. “I can’t betray Phillip. I love him, too. And the children…” Her voice cracked for he suddenly grew tense with anguish. “There is nothing in the world that would make me leave them.”
“Then I will go back to France.”
“No!” she exclaimed fiercely, pulling away.
“I have no choice, Ava.”
“But I want to share spring with you, and summer. I want to enjoy the gardens with you. No one understands them like you do.” She swallowed hard and gazed at him, debilitated by his stricken face. “No one understands me like you do.”
“No one loves you like I do,” he retorted, holding her arms so tightly she winced. “But you are right,” he said, letting go. “I cannot live without you, so I have only one choice—and hope.”
“Hope?”
“Hope that the rain will last and the sun will break through and there will shine the most exquisite rainbow.”
They tried to continue as if the kiss had never happened, but although they spoke of other things, the memory of it remained. Jean-Paul had been given a taste of paradise and was left wanting more, while Ava had been singed by her rashness and was relieved she had put a stop to it before it went too far.
Neither felt like eating. They drove home in silence. The mist had drifted inland. Ava turned on the fog lights, but it was hard to tell where she was. She drove slowly, anxious to return to Phillip and normality. Jean-Paul put on the radio. Mama Cass’s voice sang out rich and low. At last they turned into the drive. It seemed as if they were waking from a dream; neither said a word. We can’t have everything we want in life, Ava thought to herself. I must appreciate what I do have and not jeopardize it for my children’s sake. For Phillip’s sake. Jean-Paul had nothing to lose. He had arrived with nothing, he would leave with nothing, but his heart would be forever altered.