“I never understood why you loved it here so much,” said Clementine with a contented sigh. “I was a town girl, happier on pavement than on grass. Yet now, it’s as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes, and I see the extraordinary beauty of this place.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and it makes me feel good inside.”
“Nature is a wonderful healer. If ever I’m unhappy, I come out here and absorb it. I always return feeling better.”
Clementine took a gulp of wine. “Marina, I want to apologize for being such a cow.”
Marina took a gulp, too, astonished by her stepdaughter’s admission. She didn’t think she had ever heard her say sorry in all the years she had known her. However, she wasn’t entirely convinced and decided not to say anything until she was sure that there wasn’t an ulterior motive to her apology.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Clementine continued. “And I deserve it. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t believe me, either. But I really feel sorry. I do. Ever since I was little I’ve believed that you broke up my family and stole my father from under Mummy’s nose. And I felt that you stole him from me, too. But there are always two sides to every story, and I want to hear yours, if you’ll tell me. I’d like to understand from your point of view and put an end to my childish interpretation. I’m adult enough to know that nothing is ever black and white.”
Marina felt her throat constrict and blinked back tears. She took her stepdaughter’s hand. “I don’t know what to say. I never thought we’d ever have the chance to sit alone like this and be honest and open with each other. You have no idea how long I have wished to talk to you, woman to woman, and beg your forgiveness.”
Clementine was surprised how tender her heart felt. For a moment she wondered whether it was the wine that had turned her all soft, but then she felt the warmth in Marina’s hand and realized it was love that had thawed the ice there and opened it up like a tulip. “You don’t need my forgiveness,” she said softly.
“I do. When I fell in love with your father, he was married with two small children. I could have walked away and left him in his unhappiness, but I didn’t. I don’t suppose your mother ever spoke of the acrimony. According to your father, you were a family intact, but so broken.
“Grey and I found each other because I, too, was lost. I recognized the loneliness in him because I felt it so profoundly myself. There was a big difference in age, and he was very well educated, while I was not. But we shared something, and together we found we had the power to heal one another. I never set out to steal him, and I certainly never wanted to destroy a happy family. But, Clemmie, you weren’t a happy family, and in the end our love eclipsed everything else. I carry that on my conscience.
“What we did wasn’t right, but we felt it was best for everyone, including you and Jake. I don’t know whether children are better off with unhappy parents, or with happy stepparents. I don’t have the answer. But you can be sure your father has always loved you and Jake above all others, including me. You might not have felt it; as a little girl you were always so angry you pushed him away whenever he reached out to you. I expected you to push me away, but I tried all the same. You must know that his love for you is unconditional.”
She drained her glass and swallowed hard, though her throat was so tight it hurt as the wine went down. She stared out over the sea, and Clementine felt a chill ripple across her skin from the inside.
“As you know, Clemmie, I cannot have children. It is my deepest sorrow and something that claws at my heart every day and every night. Sometimes, I can barely function because the desire to love is so strong. Most of the time I throw myself into the hotel and give that all the care and nurture I would give a child. It is a poor compensation, but it is all I have. You and Jake will never be mine, I have inherited you, and I thank Fate for that blessing. We haven’t had it easy, you and I. But I understand. I can never be a mother to you, and I wouldn’t expect to be. But I do very much want to be your friend.”
Clementine began to cry. She realized then that she had so misunderstood her stepmother. The facts of her parents’ marriage breakup were irrelevant, as were the facts of Marina and Grey’s affair—they had never been the issue. When the artichoke of her life was peeled away, petal by petal, the core was love and the fact that Clementine had felt she had not been given enough.
“I’ve been so selfish.” She sniffed. “I’ve only ever thought about myself and how little attention I’m getting. That’s all it is. I feel such a fool.” She thought of Rafa and how he had seen past the prickly petals to the core all along. “And, Marina …?”