CHAPTER 15

At eight am in the morning, it was a nice silent drive to the airport.

She'd gotten her license back last summer but barely drove except for when she went home and her mum treated her like a chauffeur.

Naomi was surprised when Saint had asked if she was able to pick him up from the airport. Hearing his tired voice speak to her on the phone made Naomi yearn for her husband more and do anything to make him happy.

Celine and Miriam had gone home a few days earlier and it had left her all by herself for a full day. Sketching, sewing and Saint was what was on her brain from the moment she woke up to when she slept and needing to give her mind a break and not feel lonely she went to Versailles for the day.

Naomi took a deep breath as she drove into the airport's parking lot. Picking up her phone she wanted to text Saint of her arrival, but he'd already beat her to it, so she just replied to his text message saying where she was.

Within a few minutes she saw her husband approaching the vehicle. He looked exhausted. It'd be the first time since she'd known him that Naomi can admit that her husband was showing more of his age.

Instead of him entering the passenger's side, she had a puzzled look on her face as he walked over to the driver's side where she was and was forced to roll down the windows.

“Hey.”

“Hey. I'm driving.”

Naomi didn't want him having to drive he looked pretty worse to wear. “Saint it's okay. I'll drive you safely back home.

“No it's fine. I want to make a quick detour somewhere before we go home.”

To this a puzzled look entered Naomi's face. “Detour?”

“Yes.”

“To where?”

“Just trust me.”

At last, Naomi complied shifting her weight over to the passenger's side, whilst Saint put his stuff in the boot, before entering the drivers side.

Naomi wanted nothing more than to give her husband a welcome home kiss but instead she settled with asking him about his flight but then after he answered it was silent in the car for awhile.

She felt awkward. She was waiting for him to start conversation, but he hadn't. Stealing side glances she watched the deep-in-thought expression on his face as he focused on the road ahead. She'd seen it on her husband many a times and the intensity on his face always made it a subject of her arousal.

Desperately needing to forget her lustful thoughts, she decided to break the silence.

“Thank you again for the tickets. I still can't believe I went to Paris Fashion Week, like what the fuck?!”

The sound of Saint's laugh filled the car and Naomi revelled in it. It'd be the first time in a long time since she'd heard him laugh in front of her, or they'd shared in on a light moment.

“So has that inspired you for your own collection?”

That's one of the primary things that she loved about Saint. He believed in her and her dreams,

“Oui, oui,” she added with a laugh, “I've come up with a whole load of sketches that I'm working on now. By the way the house is a little messy so please don't get your tits in a jingle when we get home, I'll tidy it up.”

He had the patience of a saint, no pun intended, but when it came to cleanliness it just itched him the wrong way to see things out of place and since she didn't have an assigned working space, she'd used their room to work and upon entry it looked more like a textile shop.

“My tits in a jingle?”

“Yeah, it's a saying.”

“Who says it?”

“Me.”

To that he let out another laugh as he gained speed on the motorway.“Would you like to tell me what sort of things you've been designing?”

Naomi still felt quite shy being so open about her aspirations so she lagged a bit in answering and only vaguely told him what she was doing before switching topic and recounting the events of Fashion Week.

Listening to her talk warmed his heart and easily made him forget about how exhausted he was. He would have loved nothing more than go back home and make love to his wife before sleeping fully satiated. But no he had to do this.

The past few weeks had gone by without so much of an argument but even as optimistic as Saint was, he also knew it to be important that they took care of business of their hearts. Only then would they be able to move forward.

"Hey are you listening?"

He shifted his gaze to meet Naomi's questioning ones. "Yes I am."

"Oh okay. It's just that you've been quiet for a while giving me impression that I'm boring you."

"If you were boring me, I'd tell you," was Saint's reply which wasn't all that encouraging to Naomi and the car went quiet again for a moment.

"Why d'you stop talking?"

"Cos I've finished what I was saying."

"You were in the middle of telling me about your plans to go to fashion school."

"Well yeah..."

"So you never finished what you were saying."

Sighing softly, she fiddled with her fingers, feeling a little uneasy explaining her dilemma. "I don't know if I want to go to fashion school. I don't like the formal education route. I'd prefer to work as an apprentice or something."

The greatest teacher of her life was no longer living and she did know it was important to have some sort of mentor to shape her hands into being the fashion designer that she wanted to be known as.

"Do you think I'm stupid for having left my degree?"

"Don't second guess Naomi. You've made your decision, so stop looking back", was Saint's reply as his eyes bored into her a moment longer before concentrating back on the road. Knowing she had his full attention made Naomi feel at ease to say what she wanted to say.

"I'm not looking back...its just that I'm...I'm scared."

"Why are you scared?"

"Because my parents keep saying that I'm going to regret it and cos I haven't told them where I am they think I'm prostituting myself."

Saint realised it'd be the most open his wife had been in talking about her family, more so her parents. Even during the phone conversations whilst she was still in London, she'd only disclosed to him that she had a married older sister in Nigeria whilst her and her parents lived in England.

And he'd respected her privacy though he always knew that her relationship with her parents had a profound effect on how she saw herself as a person, and it saddened Saint seeing the broken look on his wife's face at her parents assumptions. In Saint's mind, they couldn't be more wrong.

Naomi couldn't help but think that her parents were right. She was in fact a prostitute. She was a prostitute under the guise of being a man's wife.

"That's an awful thing to say to your child."

"Pshtt, you think?"

Saint turned his head giving Naomi an incredulous look, thinking Naomi was mocking him. "I'm being serious."

"So am I," the short tense exchange prompted silence for the rest of the ride.

When they reached the town of Vernon, Saint found somewhere to park his car before hiring bicycles for the both of them.

He could see by then that Naomi's curiosity was getting the best of her as she watched him with a studious gaze as he helped put on her bike helmet before he put his. She could have done it herself, but he needed a reason to touch her.

“Just trust me Naomi.”

“Easier said than done,” she mumbled as she got herself settled on her bike.

Saint had heard but hadn't commented.

There was a gentle breezy and the sun was out but not intensely so, just enough to brighten the day. It was the most perfect mid March spring day.

Naomi couldn't deny it. It did give her pleasure riding in silence side by side with her husband passing hazelnut and berry trees on an almost empty road giving her the illusion of perfection.

Almost thirty minutes later they finally journeyed in to the village.

"Just in case you're still wondering we're in Giverny. Claude Monet's residence and muse.”

“I don't know much about Monet but this place is wonderful. It's like rainbows have pissed over all the flowers.”

Saint chuckled to himself before proceeding to tell her about the artist, as they rode their bike through the small pathway that led to the house. He loved seeing how entranced she was. It brought on fresh memories of the first time his father had brought he and his brother there. The memory of the constant chirping of the birds, the crows of the hens had stuck with him and had become an eternal memory in his mind.

Placing their bicycles in the reserved place, they started their exploration. It only occurred to Naomi then that this would be the first time that she'd been out publicly with her husband, but that fact didn't bother her at all, it felt so natural.

They entered the house. Naomi's eyes had to adjust to the picturesque brightness of the yellow themed dining room that made her feel like she'd just walked into the sun.

They silently continued the tour of the house with Saint interjecting here and there the history and function of the room but for most of the time they appreciated the house in silence.

As it got closer to midday the house became more and more crowded with tourists and school groups so they decided to go through the under pass that connected the house to the water bridge.

Naomi really felt like she was walking through the garden of Eden. Inhaling the smell of nature around her and seeing the pond reflecting the vast array of water lilies made her feel like God had reserved this place for them and no sort of negativity could trespass the place.

"Saint why did you decide to bring me here?" she asked as they slowly walked across the arched bridge.

A melancholic look surfaced on Saint's face at her question. They both knew that this wasn't just any ordinary outing.

“I just had a feeling you'd like coming here,” he replied though they both knew it not to be the primary reason.

“Well I'm glad you did. Thank you.”

“You're always welcome,” he said his voice deep and Naomi needing to divert her gaze from the longing look in his eyes.

The events over the past month hung between them and it was about time that they discussed things, so after a while of Saint showing her around and finding something to eat so he could take his medication they finally took a seat on a bench in front of Monet's house.

“Did you tell your friends about...us?”

Shifting uncomfortably first, she answered. “Yeah.”

“And what did they say?”

“They said it was very brave of me.”

“What was brave of you?”

“The fact that I left my degree, left the country and my parents and married a guy I barely know.”

“Do you feel brave?”

“I feel numb.”

“Why?”

“None of it seems real, almost like a dream.”

“Is it a good dream?”

A humourless smile appeared on Naomi's face instead of offering an answer.

In a tone above a whisper she heard her husband talk again. “What makes you feel alive Naomi?”

The way his bi-coloured eyes seared into her heart reminded her of why she was in love with this man. He calmed her senses and the fact that they were in God's garden it made it easy for her to be honest.

“You make me feel alive Saint-Luc. Just this, me and you. Us talking like when we first met. And I can't deny that the way you touch me, they way you look at me. Like right now,” and she stopped to make her point.

“How d'you mean?” Saint asked with an amused smile.

“I don't know Saint but you just make me feel. And that's how I know I'm alive, because for the last few years I wasn't so sure about it but now I know.”

“I love when you just let yourself go and trust me to love you but the truth of the matter is this - it took me having a hypoglycaemic shock for us to stop tearing each other's hearts apart.”

There were tears in her eyes at thoughts of how stupid she'd behaved in her marriage, but she quickly blinked them back. There was no point crying over spoilt milk.

“And I believe we need to have a break so you can evaluate what you really want. I know what I want Naomi, it's always been you. I love you and I'll always support you if you need me but until you're ready to love me, it's best for us to separate.”

This time Naomi let the tears fall. “I know.”