I managed the three days of Vincent’s visit in a blur, my only relief when Dries stopped by on the second day. By silent agreement, we didn’t mention Vincent’s ear or the asylum at Saint-Rémy-de-Provence.

Guillaumin, Toulouse-Lautrec, and a few other of Vincent’s old Paris friends also visited. Even had we room enough for me to sit with them around our small table, I couldn’t have. The cooking and serving and cleaning up kept me on my feet.

Then Vincent left, and my legs might have been trembling from exhaustion, but I felt only regret that he couldn’t stay with us longer. I put the apartment back to rights, then collapsed on the sofa.

Theo, returning from the train station, found me there. “Are you quite well, my dearest?” He sat with me, happiness radiating from him as if he held the sun inside his chest. “I promised Vincent we would visit him in a few weeks.”

A train trip. Not long, but with all the supplies a baby required— No, I must not always think only of difficulties and obstacles. I laid my head on Theo’s shoulder. “Then we shall. I hope Vincent’s breakdowns are behind him. I hope he will paint great art in Auvers and find happiness there.”

“Our time together went too fast.” Theo sighed at the ceiling, then jumped up, jostling me. “The yellow bookshop in the gaslights!” He dropped back down. “We both forgot.”

“He will come to Paris again. I shall improve myself and become a more proficient cook. And I will speak better French. I want to do what I can to make him like me. I want him to think of me as another sister.”

Alas, it was not to be.

Two months after I had first met my husband’s beloved brother, he shot himself. When the news came, I thought it would be our darkest hour. I was wrong. Beyond it waited a deeper hell.

Chapter Thirteen

Emsley

Sunday morning, Bram Dekker broke my heart.

“Good morning, Emsley.” He offered a cream-cheese bagel and coffee when I opened the door. The sun hadn’t yet risen over the buildings, the muted morning light shimmering around him.

He had texted the night before that he would stop by around 8:00 a.m. on his way to taking his grandfather to church.

He takes his grandfather to church. He was handsome, successful, and had a sense of humor. And brought me food in the morning. Did I envy his wife? Yes. But I kept that to myself.

“Thank you.” I accepted the caffeine-and-carb combo, just what I needed. “Please, come in.”

His grandfather walked in behind him. My hands were full so I couldn’t offer to shake his. I smiled instead. “Hi. I’m Emsley. I’ve heard so much about you from Violet.”