Mothers' Instinct by Barbara Abel

Author:Barbara Abel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-05-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

Tiphaine and Sylvain had recently returned to work, to Laetitia’s great relief: their long period of apathy was beginning to make her nervous. She was still visiting them, or rather visiting Tiphaine, since Sylvain was spending most of his time at the architecture firm to make up for lost time. At least, that was the official reason.

“He’s hiding behind his work,” Tiphaine complained over a cup of coffee. “It feels like he leaves earlier every morning and gets back later every night.”

“It’s his way of dealing with Maxime not being here,” Laetitia suggested gently.

“Or maybe he’s just avoiding me.”

Laetitia took in Tiphaine’s comment. She knew that the loss of a child often spelled the death knell for a relationship, each parent embodying the tragedy in the other’s eyes. “What makes you say that?” she asked carefully.

Tiphaine shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were a throwaway comment. But the tears that sprang from her eyes betrayed her real feelings. “He blames me for Maxime’s death.”

Laetitia bit her lower lip. She wouldn’t go so far as to blame Tiphaine altogether, but there was no denying she had been criminally negligent to leave a six-year-old child alone in a room with an open window. Even if he was asleep. The memory of Tiphaine criticizing her for leaving the children alone upstairs when they scribbled on each other’s face with markers came unbidden to her mind.

Laetitia kept her thoughts to herself.

“If he really thought you were to blame for Maxime’s death, he would already have left you,” she pointed out with as much confidence as she could muster. “You know what I think? You blame yourself for the . . . accident.”

A stab of pain flashed in Tiphaine’s eyes, a glimpse of the torture she had been enduring for weeks.

“Of course I blame myself!” she snapped, her voice broken by a sob. “I am to blame, aren’t I? I left my little boy all alone in his bedroom with the window wide open! What mother worthy of the name would have made such a stupid mistake?”

“It was an accident!” Laetitia immediately replied, choked with emotion at her friend’s confession. “He was asleep. How were you to know he would wake up as soon as you left? You are a good mother, Tiphaine. You always were . . .”

She fell silent, trying to think of other arguments to console Tiphaine.

“I would probably have done the exact same thing,” she lied, with an assurance she was far from feeling.

Neither spoke for a while, conscious they were teetering at the top of a slippery slope. Laetitia gently tried to steer the conversation in another direction. “And how is your job going?”

“Who gives a shit about work?” Tiphaine said dismissively. “It’s just a way of filling the days. And it’s better than sitting around the house on my own.”

The unexpected answer left Laetitia at a loss. She said nothing.

This time, Tiphaine broke the silence. “Laetitia . . .” She hesitated, her voice full of embarrassment. “I’d like . .

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