Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dinner wound down fairly early—I think everyone was feeling the weight of exhaustion.
I was clearing the last of the glasses with Colette when Céline stepped up to me.
"Elodie. Merci for the lovely dinner."
"You're welcome. But really, all the credit goes to Colette." I flashed Colette a smile.
Céline smiled tightly. " Oui. She has always been a priceless part of our lives."
She turned back to me. "I was hoping we might chat for a moment."
My stomach flip-flopped, but I nodded. "Of course." I lifted a bottle. "Looks like there’s a little left. Care for some?"
Céline nodded. "This one was one of Pierre’s favorites, I recall."
I held out a glass to Céline, who took it without a word, her eyes as cold as they’d been all evening.
I settled into the chair across from her, the dim light casting shadows on the stone walls. The silence stretched on, brittle as the tension between us.
"I’m sure tonight wasn’t easy for anyone," I said, taking a sip of wine. "I just wanted to make it... comfortable."
Céline’s laugh was low, bitter. "Comfortable? You have taken over his estate—your inheritance—and expect us to sit and play family? Very sweet American sensibilities."
The words hit like a slap. I swallowed hard, the taste of the wine suddenly sharp on my tongue. But I’d expected this. Hell, I would’ve felt the same if I were in her shoes.
"I didn’t ask for this," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I didn’t even know about... any of this, about the family or the estate. But I came because I thought it was time to understand where I came from. I’m not here to steal anything."
Céline swirled the wine in her glass, her eyes never leaving mine. "You may have his blood," she said quietly, "but that doesn’t make you part of this family."
I held her gaze, refusing to flinch. “With all due respect, Céline, that’s not really your designation to make. I’m just trying to figure out what my place in all this is. How to coexist with the people I didn’t even know existed until a few months ago."
Her eyes flickered, just for a second, before the mask slid back into place. She took a slow sip of wine, the glass still half full when she set it down with a soft clink.
"He never spoke about you," she said. "Not once. For all his charm, your father kept his secrets well." I wasn’t sure if she meant the words as a jab, but I felt the sting regardless. Her voice hardened. "I loved him. But I’ll never forgive him for what he did to me—to all of us."
I bit back the urge to say I was sorry. This wasn’t my fault. But I doubted that argument would change the fact that my very existence to her was a betrayal.
"I’m not asking you to forgive him," I said instead. "Or to accept me as part of your family. But your children... they’re my siblings too. I’d like to find a way for us to get along for their sake. For ours. We don’t have to be friends, but we can figure this out."
"We’ll see," she said finally, her voice cool but less biting than before.
"Why did you want to talk then?" I asked.
Céline’s lips pressed into a thin line. "To measure your character, of course."
She stood up, setting her wine glass down on the table. Her eyes lingered on mine for a long moment, the air between us heavy with things left unsaid.
"I hope you know it won’t be easy. They are lulled by the novelty of you now, but in time, they will get angry again. Bonne nuit , Elodie."
She turned and walked back into the house, her heels clicking softly on the old stone floor. I sat there, the tension slowly draining out of me. I finished my wine, staring out at the darkened vineyards. I wasn’t sure what had just happened—whether I’d made any progress or just survived—but it was something.