Summer's End Read Online Free PDF

paint because I love it, because it’s a part of me.” He had never wanted to believe that, that her artwork was part of her soul.
He didn’t answer for a time but lay looking up at the ceiling, turning things around in his mind. “Are you terribly cross that I’m going away for the summer?”
“I told you, I’m not. I’ll simply paint, relax, read, see some of my friends.”
“Will you go out a great deal?” He sounded worried, and she was amused. He was a fine one to ask about that.
“I don’t know, silly. I’ll let you know if I’m asked. I’m sure there’ll be the usual dinner parties, benefits, concerts, that sort of thing.” He nodded again, saying nothing. “Marc-Edouard, are you jealous?” There was laughter in her eyes, and then she laughed aloud as he turned to look into her face. “Oh, you are! Don’t be silly! After all these years?”
“What better time?”
“Don’t be absurd, darling. That’s not my style.” He knew that was true.
“I know that. But, on ne sait jamais. One never knows.”
“How can you say something like that?”
“Because I have a beautiful wife, with whom any man in his right mind would be crazy not to fall in love.” It was the most elaborate speech he had made to her in years. She showed her surprise. “What? You think I haven’t noticed? Deanna, now you are being absurd. You are a young and beautiful woman.”
“Good. Then don’t go to Greece.” She was smiling up at him again, like a very young girl. But he didn’t look amused now.
“I have to. You know that.”
“All right. Then take me with you.” There was an unaccustomed note in her voice, half teasing, half serious. He didn’t answer for a long time. “Well? Can I go?”
He shook his head. “No, you can’t.”
“Well, then I guess you’ll just have to be jealous.” They hadn’t teased like this in years and years. His going away for three months had produced an assortment of very odd feelings. But she didn’t want to push him too far. “Seriously, darling, you don’t have to worry.”
“I hope not.”
“Marc! Arrête! Stop it!” She leaned forward and reached for his hand, and he let her take it in hers. “I love you… do you know that?”
“Yes. Do you know as well that I love you?”
Her eyes grew very serious as they looked into his. “Sometimes I’m not so sure.” He was always too busy to show her he loved her, and it wasn’t his style. But now something told her that she had hit home, and she was stunned as she watched him. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he realize what he had done? The wall he had built around himself, surrounded by business and work, gone for days or weeks, and now months, and his only ally Pilar? “I’m sorry, darling. I suppose you do. But sometimes I have to remind myself of it.”
“But I do love you. You must know that.”
“Deep inside I think I do know.” She knew it when she recalled the moments they had shared, the landmarks in a lifetime, which tell the tale. Those were the reasons why she still loved him.
He sighed. “But you need a great deal more. Don’t you, my dear?” She nodded, feeling at once young and brave. “You need my time as well as my affection. You need … enfin , you need what I don’t have to give.”
“That’s not true. You could have the time. We could do some of the things we used to. We could!” She sounded like a plaintive child and hated herself for it. She sounded like the child who had hounded her father to take her along. And she hated needing anyone that much. She had sworn long ago that she never would again. “I’m sorry. I understand.” Her eyes lowered and she withdrew.
“Do you understand?” He was watching her very closely.
“Of course.”
“Ah, ma Diane ….” His eyes were troubled as he took her in his arms. She didn’t notice; her own were too filled with tears. He had said it at last. “Ma Diane ….”

2
“You have enough money in the bank for the entire time I’ll be gone. But if