Alexandre's POV
Monday morning I called Isabelle.
Not because I wanted to. Because my mother had looked at me over Theo's sleeping head on Sunday afternoon and said, very quietly, handle it properly this time, Alexandre — and I had understood, without needing it spelled out, that properly meant a conversation I had been avoiding for four days.
She answered on the first ring.
"I wondered when you'd call," she said. Her voice was controlled in the way of someone who had been preparing for this conversation and had decided on a register. Calm. Elegant. The particular composure of a woman who understood that dignity was her strongest position.
"Isabelle."
"You got married," she said. "Without a word. Not a call, not a message. I heard it from Dominic Farrar at a dinner party on Thursday
