Anthony seemed to freeze where he stood, and the Frenchman looked at Anthony with a small smile and a nod. She could see that her son recognized him, as Anthony's whole body appeared to stiffen and the look in his eyes was one of ice. Clearly, he was not happy to see this man. The Frenchman had said he was a friend of the family and knew her children, so she wasn't surprised that they recognized each other. But she was upset to see that Anthony looked shocked.
“Hello, Anthony,” Matthieu said quietly. “It's been a long time.”
“What are you doing here?” Anthony said unpleasantly. He hadn't seen him since he was a child. He glanced at his mother protectively, as Carole watched them, trying to understand.
“I came to see your mother. I've been here several times.” There was a distinct chill between the two men, and Carole had no idea why.
“Does she remember you?” Anthony asked coldly.
“No, she doesn't,” Matthieu answered for her. But Anthony remembered him only too well, and how much he had made his mother cry. He had forgotten it until now. He hadn't seen him in fifteen years, but he remembered as if it had been yesterday how devastated she had been when she told him and Chloe they were leaving Paris. She had cried as though her heart would break, and he had never forgotten it.
Anthony had liked Matthieu before that, a lot in fact. He had played soccer with him, but he hated him when he watched his mother cry, and she told him why. It was Matthieu who had made her cry. And he remembered now that there had been tears before that. For many months. He had been happy to go back to the States, but not to see his mother so distraught when they left. As he recalled, she had been sad for a long time, even once they were back in L.A. He knew she had sold the house eventually and said they were never going back. It didn't matter to Anthony by then, although he had made good friends there. But he knew it mattered to his mother, and if she had had her memory, it might matter to her even now. It worried Anthony considerably to see Matthieu in her room.
Matthieu had an air about him that said he had the right to do anything he wanted. He hesitated at nothing, expected people to listen to him, and do as he wished. Anthony remembered not liking that about him when he was a child. Matthieu had sent him to his room once for being rude to his mother, and Anthony had shouted at her that he wasn't his dad. Matthieu had apologized to him later, but Anthony could still sense his air of authority as he stood in the room, as though he belonged there. He didn't, and it was obvious to her son that Carole still had no idea who he was.
“I'll only stay a few minutes,” Matthieu said politely, as Anthony came to hug his mother again and looked fiercely protective of her. He wanted Matthieu out of her room, and life, forever.
“I'll see you soon, Mom,” he promised. “Take care. I'll call you from New York.” He said the last words glancing at Matthieu, and hated to leave him in the room with her. There wasn't much he could do to her, she didn't remember him, and there was a nurse with her at all times. But Anthony didn't like it anyway. He had left her life years before, after causing her immense pain. There was no reason for him to come back, at least in her son's eyes. And she was so vulnerable now. It tore at her son's heart.
Carole looked at Matthieu, after her son left the room, with a question in her eyes. “He remembered you,” she said, watching him. There was no mistaking the fact that her son disliked this man. “Why doesn't he like you?” She had to rely on others to supply the things she should have known herself, and more important, she had to rely on them to tell the truth, as Jason had. She admired him for that, and knew it had been hard. Matthieu looked far more guarded and less inclined to expose himself to her. She had the feeling that he was being cautious when he came to visit her. She had also seen the nurses react. It was obvious they knew this man, and more than ever, she wondered who he was. She wanted to ask Anthony about him when he called.
“He was a little boy when I last saw him,” Matthieu said with a sigh as he sat down. “He saw the world with a child's eyes then. He was always very protective of you. He was a wonderful boy.” She knew that much herself. “I made you unhappy, Carole.” There was no point denying it to her. The boy would tell her, although he didn't know the whole story. Only he and Carole did, and he was not yet ready to tell her. He didn't want to love her again, and was afraid he would. “Our lives were very complicated. We met while you were making a movie in Paris, right after your husband left you. And we fell in love.” He said it with eyes filled with longing and regret. He loved her still. She could see it in his eyes. It was different from what she saw in Jason's eyes. The Frenchman was more intense, and grim in some ways. He almost frightened her, but not quite. Jason had a warmth and gentleness Matthieu didn't. He affected her strangely. She couldn't decide if she was afraid of him, trusted him, or even liked him. There was an air of mystery to him, and smoldering passion. Whatever had existed between them years before, the embers had not yet gone out for him, and it stirred something in her as well. She couldn't remember him. But she felt something for him and couldn't identify what it was, if it was fear, or love. She still had no idea who he was, and unlike the nurses, she did not recognize his name. He was just a man who said that they had been in love. And like the others, she remembered him not at all. She had no sense of who he was, neither good nor bad. All she had were the unidentifiable feelings he aroused in her, which made her feel uncomfortable, but she had no idea why. None at all. Everything she had ever known or felt for him was beyond her reach.
“What happened after we fell in love?” Carole asked him as Stevie walked into the room, and seemed surprised to see him. Carole introduced them, and then with a questioning look Stevie walked out again, to wait in the hall. She told Carole she'd be nearby. It was comforting to Carole to know that she was. Although she knew he couldn't hurt her, she felt almost naked being alone in the room with him. His eyes never lost their grip on hers.
“Many things happened. You were the love of my life. I want to talk to you about it, but not now.”
“Why not?” His secretiveness worried her. He was holding back, which seemed ominous to her.
“Because there is too much to tell in a short time. I was hoping that you'd remember once you were conscious again, but I can see that you don't. I'd like to come another day, and talk to you about it.” And then he startled her by what he said next. “We lived together for two years.”
“We did?” She was stunned. “Were we married?” He smiled and shook his head. She was finding husbands everywhere. Jason. Sean. Now this man, who said he had lived with her. Not just an admirer, but a man she had obviously been committed to. No one had told her about him. Perhaps they didn't know. But clearly, Anthony did, and his reaction was not good, which said a lot to her. This had not been a happy story, and since they were not together, obviously had not ended well.
“No, we were not. I wanted to marry you, and you wanted to marry me. We couldn't. I had family complications, and a difficult job. It wasn't the right time.” Timing was everything. It had been the case with Jason too. It was all Matthieu wanted to say for now. He stood up then, and promised to come back. She wasn't sure she wanted him to. Perhaps this was a story she would rather not know. The room seemed filled with sadness and regret as he spoke, and then he smiled. He had eyes that dug down deep into her, and she remembered something about him, but she had no idea what. She didn't want him to come back, but didn't have the courage to say it. If he did, she was going to keep Stevie with her, to protect her. She felt as though she needed someone to shield her from him. He frightened her. There was something incredibly powerful about him.