Even though we knew she’d done something terrible to hurt our son, or at least he thought she had, we invited her in for tea. Oliver and I had always considered Gwen a semi-adopted daughter. The truth was that I was thrilled to have her pop by. “I have pumpkin scones," I told her happily, knowing they were her favourite, “Would you like milk or tea? “

“Milk," she smiled as she sat at the table, “Thanks, Sil."

After an hour or so of chit chat about how we‘d been and what Caro and Gryff were up to, Oliver finally point blank asked her what had happened with her and Warren. “I thought the two of you were getting on so well,” He said, “I was disappointed to hear that you’d split up.”

She immediately looked as if she’d cry, “Yes…well, I’m afraid that was my entire fault.”

It seems that Gwennie had a portion of her past she hadn’t shared with Warren. In that past there existed a young man named Nick Han that she had met in Berlin. She’d been a struggling musician with a demo tape and a headshot, that was desperately pursuing anyone she could find to give her music a listen. Mister Han had noticed her in a nightclub and approached her. It was a come on, she said, but he was attractive and seemed nice. After a while of flirting, she discovered he was actually a record producer and that he was more than willing to listen to her demo. They exchanged phone numbers. He took her on a few dates and seemed just as interested in her music as he was in pursuing her affections. It was not long before he introduced her to executives at a recording label. They weren’t overly interested at first. It took two years for Nick to convince them to come to one of her shows in Hamburg. Within six weeks she had a contract. Caught up in the excitement of it all and swept away by Nick from fancy party to fancy party, meeting famous people and jetting around the globe, she had married him when she was only twenty years old.

“It was such a mistake!” Gwennie confessed, “It wasn’t long before I knew it was all wrong. He was just so exciting and he knew all these famous, important people and I felt like a rock star with him. But after it all settled and we were in our flat, I just kept thinking about Renny and how much I missed him. It had been years since I’d seen him, but I had to find him. I tried to get on with my life for five years, but when I got picked up by a UK label and knew I was leaving Berlin, I told Nick how I felt. I told him all about Ren. He said if I needed to go find him to do it. He was so confident that I’d come back to him, but I knew I wasn’t going to.” She paused, “I was so scared to contact Ren. You have no idea. I sat in London for six weeks before I did it. He was so happy to hear from me. When we did finally get together, it was like nothing had changed between us. Nick’s a nice bloke, but I never loved him. I’m in love with Ren. I’ve always been.” She sighed, “And when Nick realised that he went psychotic on me. He said I used him. The really terrible thing is that he’s right. I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did.”

“We all make mistakes,” Oliver said gently, “Didn’t you tell Warren about Nick?”

She shook her head and her face in her hands. “No! It was so stupid! I wanted us to be perfect, so I never mentioned it! I filed for divorce thinking that Nick would just give it to me, but he refused. He contested it and the whole process got really messy. I didn‘t want Warren to know, so I kept it from him. I told Nick that I didn‘t want anything from him, no property, no money, I just wanted out, but he said he didn‘t care. I hurt him so badly. He wanted to drag the whole thing out just to hurt me back!”

“Are you still married to him?” I asked. I handed her a tissue.

She nodded miserably, "He’s still tying it up. I thought that I could get it over with, you know? Without hurting Ren, but Nick saw the pictures of me and Warren on a website and he got all bent out of shape! He just showed up in Greece at the hotel and marched up to Renny and showed him the marriage license and talked a bunch of shite! He didn’t bother to show him that we were in the middle of divorce proceedings!” Gwennie sniffed, “I swear it’s true! Here! I brought the papers with me.”

Oliver shook his head, “We don’t need to see them. Why didn’t you show these to Ren?”

“He wouldn’t listen to me! He was so hurt and so angry! He started shouting at me, telling me I was a liar and then he just left. He just walked out on me. He didn’t even bring his things with him. I let him go, yeah? I thought he was just angry and he’d be back. I sat there and I waited all night and he never came back. He left me, just like that. And now, he won’t talk to me. I‘ve called, I‘ve e-mailed. I‘ve written him letters. I even went to his house and banged on his door. I faxed these papers to him, but nothing. Not a word.”

“Oh, Gwen,” I sighed, “What a mess! I wish that there was something that we could do.”

“There isn’t,” Her eyes were filled with such sincerity they made me ache, “And I don’t want you to think that’s why I came here at all. I really did come just to visit. I’ve missed you both so much.”

Gwennie stayed for a while longer. When she left, she hugged us both. “I probably won’t see you again for a very long time,” She said, “But I want to thank you for all the kindness you’ve always shown me. If there ever comes a day when he asks, please tell Renny something for me? Tell him I’m sorry,” She said sadly, “Tell him if I could do it again, I’d tell him everything. And, please, tell him that I’ll love him forever. Nothing will ever change that. Forever.”

Oliver and I looked at each other, recognizing the echo of ourselves in that statement. Forever. We’d said that word to each other a million times. Her saying it and knowing she meant it in the light that Warren wasn’t giving her another chance was heartbreaking.

When we did deliver the message, Warren wasn’t interested in hearing it. “It’s more than that. She’s not honest about anything. She’s not honest about how she feels, what she does…anything. She’s not the Gwennie I knew. She’s a rock star now. She’s led about by the spotlight. She’s all caught up in the lifestyle. I can’t do it. I can’t pretend to be happy living like that, even if she is there. All I want is to play my piano and have a quiet life. There‘s no room for either of us in each other‘s worlds,” He sighed, “Besides, all she does is break my heart. Every single time.”

After he let Gwenllian go, Warren, firmly in his late twenties, lived alone in his grandparent’s house where his only mistress was his piano. He claimed to have friends, but I never saw any. When I would come by the house, it was never tidy and was always littered with cereal boxes and empty pizza containers.

“Mum, please don’t come over and clean my house!” He complained, “It’s not like I have rats scurrying about!”

“I’m not cleaning you’re house, I’m just taking out your rubbish, which is sort of the same thing in your case. Your grandmother Ana would be spinning in her grave if she knew you’d turned her house into such a muddle. How is work coming?”

Warren had used his connections with Gwen to remain a composer. He’d earned a name for himself by writing several songs that landed in the UK top twenty, but lately he’d seemed to have had enough of the lime light again and was quietly writing jingles for Annie’s advertising agency. He was teaching music from his home as well.

“It’s fine, Mum.”

“When was the last time you got out of the house?”

Being as music was his one true love, he didn’t get away from the piano long enough to meet a lady or at least create any foundation for a serious relationship. He always seemed lonely to me, even if he didn’t recognize it himself.

“Ah, Mum!” He scratched at his chin, which badly needed shaved, “I’m busy! I don’t have time for complications!”