Chapter 6 #3
“Was it hard to leave him?” Caroline asked, too nervous to create some sense of preamble.
“No,” Simone said flatly. “Though he will wonder if I’m gone too long. What are you doing, Caroline?”
Her face was almost unreadable in the dimness of the little hallway and so Caroline couldn’t tell if her expression was as cool as her tone.
Still, something like bravery rose in her chest and she reached behind her to fist some of the curtain into her hand as she said, “I-I had to talk to you about the kiss.”
There was a second or two of silence and then Simone said, “Oh yes?”
There were a thousand things Caroline wanted to say then. She could have filled the rest of the opera with confessions she’d long kept to herself and connections she realized had been unmade her entire life. She wanted to spill them all to Simone and then she wanted to touch her.
But she didn’t. The bravery was gone, she didn’t have enough. “It—it cannot happen again,” she said instead.
Simone took a step forward and now Caroline could see her face.
There was a flash of heated, powerful emotion there for but a second and then it was gone.
“You came all the way to the opera and signaled me to meet you in inappropriate privacy so that you could tell me you don’t want me?
Don’t trouble yourself, the kiss mattered little. ”
Caroline could have left it at that. She could have turned around and left and accepted that statement.
Only there was a waver to Simone’s tone.
Very slight, probably not noticeable to anyone else in the world.
But Caroline heard it. And she’d seen that burst of emotion that Simone struggled so hard to cover.
And the words began even though Caroline feared them.
“I’m sure to you it didn’t matter. You’ve kissed so many people in your life.
Women other than me, even, I suppose. But I haven’t.
And it mattered to me, Simone. It was as if I’d never seen the sun and then its warmth was there, glowing across my face.
Bringing everything to life that I thought didn’t exist or was long dead.
” She swallowed hard. “So it meant a great deal to me. Too much. That’s what I came all the way to the opera to say to you.
If that makes me a fool, I can accept that. ”
Simone was silent, just staring at Caroline as she spoke.
But then she moved forward and pressed Caroline back against the wall that separated two of the windows behind the curtains.
As the singer on the stage far below them lifted her voice in passionate aria, Simone dropped her mouth to Caroline’s again and the world became nothing but music and pleasure all over again.
This time there was no softening of the kiss as there had been a few days before.
There was only passion and drive and a desire Caroline had heard described but never truly felt herself.
It was like warm fingers brushing along her skin and through her veins.
Tingling sensation spread through her entire body, settling heavily between her legs but also leaving no other spot untouched.
It was heavenly. She clutched Simone’s back and lifted against her in mute demand for what she didn’t even fully understand.
Simone’s mouth stilled on hers and this time she was the one who stepped away. Her breath was short, her eyes were bright and her lips were wet from the kiss.
“This does mean something to me,” she panted, and Caroline could actually see every movement in her struggle to regain control. Slowly, she settled her breath and her voice calmed with it. “But you were right when you said it cannot happen again. It’s dangerous for us both. Do you understand?”
Caroline didn’t. But she did. She nodded slowly. “Y-Yes.”
Simone stared at her, her lips parted and for a moment Caroline thought she might say more. Or touch her again. But then she shook her head. “Goodbye, Mrs. Banfield.”
Simone didn’t wait for her to respond and Caroline couldn’t do so. She stared as Simone exited through the tangled curtains and then stood silently as the opera continued to drift through the fabric in that oddly muted way.
“Like my life,” she whispered, and felt the truth of that spread through her like the heat of the kiss had. Only this time it was freezing tendrils that touched her every nerve.
It had been one thing to live that muted life without realizing it. But now she’d felt the truth. She’d turned toward the sunshine and felt how glorious it could be. To have it snatched away felt…well, she felt empty in a way she’d never acknowledged before.
And she would be expected to straighten herself, which she did. To walk back into Society, which she did. And forget she’d kissed Simone, wanted Simone, felt something far more than she’d ever felt before for Simone.
But that was something that she could never do. Not fully. Still she’d have to pretend, likely for the rest of her life. And with that depressing thought, she left the opera and went back home to her empty house and empty bed.