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“What don't I understand?”
“It's not about tarnishing her image by putting another woman in her place or any guilt about being alive, but an accident. I've thought about it a lot, and there was nothing I could have done to stop it.”
“So what's the problem?”
“The pain...”
“Pain?” She raised an eyebrow in surprise at what I was saying.
“I loved her, and losing her was like having my heart ripped out.”
“I can imagine...”
“No! You have no idea, otherwise you wouldn't be insisting on this subject. What I went through, everything I felt when I buried her, is a pain I don't want to go through at any other time in my life.”
“It doesn't mean you'll miss the next one, Thom.”
“There is a risk.”
“Dying is the risk of being alive. Pain is the risk of having feelings, but when you feel them, good things can also come of it. The girls need someone, you...”
“We're fine.” I interrupted his speech.
“Okay.” She took another sip of her wine and stopped insisting on the subject.
I had already made up my mind never to experience that again, and I was fine with it.
Chapter seventeen
I spent the whole of Sunday trying to avoid thinking about what had happened in the nightclub. Every time my mind even started to drift in that direction, I fought with all my strength to push it the other way until I forgot who Thomas Lennox was.
I took the day off to clean the apartment, stay with my grandmother, and prepare some of the week's lessons for the children. We were going to make collages, and I hoped they would be excited about cutting out paper and nailing their little fingers with glue. They were still very young; they were learning everything little by little, but I was very happy to be part of the big steps forward in their lives.
In fact, I had tried very hard to let that incident with Thomas remain in the past, but as soon as his little girls came running towards me, it was impossible not to think of the man.
They had the same black hair and the same blue eyes, and although they were kind and gracious, they had more of their father's traits than I could simply ignore.
“Plofessola!” Mary hugged my hips tightly.
“Hey, little one.” I stroked your head.
Anne also came along and soon they were both squeezing me.
“Hi, girls!”
“Saudadi!”
“I missed you too. Did you have fun at the weekend?”
“Yes!”
“Oh, good!”
“We woncandy,” Anne commented.
“Who gave you candy? Dad?” I swallowed as I had the mental image of the man, but I quickly pulled myself together; I couldn't show any change in front of my students.
“No. Aunt Deborah.”