Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
We managed to survive dessert and digestifs , but by the end, I was officially spent. My nerves felt frayed, like I’d been through an emotional wringer.
Evan had been mostly contained, if not smug. He and Remi spent the majority of the evening staring each other down through tight expressions, exchanging polite words wrapped in barbed wire.
“That was a unique experience,” Remi said as we helped Colette clear the last of the plates.
I half-laughed through an exhale. “It was. I’m sorry I roped you into the world’s most awkward dinner party.”
“I assure you, in France, we have seen much worse. Are you going to be alright?" Remi asked, setting dirty wine glasses next to the sink. He looked as exhausted as I felt.
"I'll be fine," I assured him, mustering a weak smile. "You can go. Thank you for—just for being here."
He smiled lazily, the warmth in his eyes making my heart skip. "Of course. You should get some rest. I’ll text you tomorrow, oui ?"
I nodded, suddenly shy. " Oui ."
“ Bonne nuit. Dors bien , Elodie,” he said, turning to go. I watched him leave, feeling a mix of gratitude and something else I wasn't quite ready to name.
Félicité came inside with the last empty bottle, looking just as drained. "I'm spent."
"Same. Thanks for helping make that a lot less awkward," I said.
She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smirk. "That was not awkward? You have very high standards for awkwardness."
I laughed, the sound slightly hysterical even to my own ears. "It's true, they were like two junkyard dogs about to rumble out there."
"I have no idea what you just said, but I think I get your meaning." We both smiled, a moment of sisterly understanding passing between us.
“In the morning, I am going to have some very serious questions about what you saw in that strange excuse for a man.”
I snickered. “If you figure out the answer, please let me know.”
She gently touched my shoulder. “You are okay?”
I nodded.
“Well, in that case, I am off to bed. You don't mind if I stay, no?"
"Of course not. This house is your house. Anytime."
She smiled and leaned in for a light hug. " Bonne nuit , Elodie."
" Bonne nuit ," I replied, watching her disappear up the stairs.
Steeling myself, I walked back out to the terrace to tidy up anything that was left. To my surprise and irritation, Evan was still sitting there, looking right at home.
"Why are you still here?" I snapped, my earlier exhaustion giving way to a fresh wave of annoyance. "I expected you to be out the door by now."
“You think I’d leave without saying goodbye?”
“A girl can only be so hopeful.”
I sighed as I gathered the used napkins into a pile. Evan anxiously helped. When I glared at him, he flashed me a wobbly smile that bordered on nervousness.
“So—Colette—she said I could stay the night. Since it's so late already. And since the wine went down so easily."
I felt like a cartoon character, red-hot flames of anger actually consuming my body.
"She did," I said, the words coming out as a curt statement rather than a question.
"Are you—angry?" Evan asked, his tone cautious.
I let out a harsh laugh. "Angry? Such a trite little word can’t even come close, Evan. What are you trying to do here?"
He sat up straighter, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
I gestured toward him, then waved my arms around, frustration evident in every movement. "Why are you here? I mean, yes, you gave me all your excuses and pacifying answers, but I'm not an idiot. What are you actually trying to do here? Do you think I'm going to bail you out of this mess somehow?"
"No, I—" he started, but I cut him off.
"You can't use my inheritance to pay for your mistakes. I'll be getting my own lawyer and fighting this."
A newfound determination swelled inside me, fueled by anger and the remnants of Remi's earlier support.
"I would expect nothing less from you," he said calmly. "You've always been tough, Elodie."
I let out a clipped laugh. "Sure. You say that now." I thought of all the times he’d made me feel so small around investors, making jokes at my expense in front of colleagues.
“So what is it, then?" I asked.
He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I guess—I guess I wanted to see you."
My mouth fell open, shock rendering me momentarily speechless. "What?"
"I mean—I didn’t fly all the way to France to see you or anything. Like I said, I was in Nice on vacation. But when I realized how close we were, I just—I guess I missed you. I wanted an excuse to see you again."
I felt like I'd been sucker-punched, the air leaving my lungs in a rush.
"Why?" The word came out in a whisper.
He half-smiled, the expression achingly familiar. "I don't know, really. Maybe I was feeling nostalgic. I—I miss you, El.”
My stomach fluttered traitorously, and I felt a small tug at my lips.
“You look—you look amazing. You’re like glowing,” he said.
I warmed at the compliment. I wasn’t particularly vain, but I had seen the difference in myself. A couple of months of hard work in the French sun had left me tanned and toned, my chestnut hair streaked with gold.
Then reality crashed back in, and I flicked the feeling away like an annoying insect.
I shook my head firmly. "No."
"No?"
"No. You don't get to come in here all nostalgic and romancey. You ruined my life."
He looked taken aback, then glanced around the terrace, taking in the beautiful chateau and the sprawling vineyards beyond.
"I don't know about that. Looks like life has taken a nice turn for you."
A familiar fury ran through me as memories of our bitter breakup and business dissolution flooded back. But I wasn’t going to let him get to me. Whatever he was trying to do here didn’t change the past.
"And what does Beth think of you being here?" Her name stung my lips as I spoke it. Beth, my college roommate turned sales manager. She had been one of the people to really distance herself after the whole mess, and now I guess I knew why.
He had the decency to look sheepish. "She—doesn't exactly know. I told her I had a business meeting."
I shook my head and laughed incredulously, the sound bitter and cutting. "You two deserve each other. You're an asshole, and she's a blind idiot."
"I know you're angry, El, but that's harsh."
“You’re right. It is. Maybe she doesn’t deserve that. But you do.” I groaned and shook it off, suddenly feeling very tired. “It doesn’t matter.”
My eyes landed on a forgotten open bottle of wine on the table. I plucked it up without thinking. Evan didn’t protest as I took a long swig directly from the bottle.
"It doesn’t matter," I repeated, plopping down in the seat next to him. The wine burned a path down my throat, warming me from the inside out.
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our shared history hanging between us like a heavy curtain. I knew I should send him away, tell him to leave and never come back. But a small, traitorous part of me wanted answers—wanted to understand how we'd gone from building dreams together to this mess of legal threats and bitter recriminations.
"I am sorry, you know," Evan said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For what it’s worth."
I shook my head, the wine making my movements feel loose and exaggerated. "Don’t. I don’t have it in me to listen to fake apologies."
"It’s not fake.” There was a hint of hurt in his voice.
I turned to face him, my eyes narrowing. "If not fake, then empty. I think you feel a certain level of guilt over what happened, but I think you would do the same thing in the end. I don’t think you're actually sorry for what you did. Just sorry it made you look bad."
"You think I’m that selfish?"
I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. "I think we both know the answer to that."
Evan's smirk faded, replaced by a look of genuine regret. "I didn’t set out to ruin things. I suffered too, you know."
I turned to him, glaring, the anger I’d been holding back all evening finally bubbling to the surface.
"But you got to stay. You ruined us financially and still got to stay on with the new owners. Meanwhile, the thing that meant more to me than anything was ripped away, leaving me in the dust. How is that fair?"
He had the grace to look ashamed. "You're right. It's not fair. But I’m still sorry."
We lapsed into silence for a few minutes, basking in the balmy autumn night. Birds chirped in the distance. A slight breeze rustled by.
"I could get used to this," Evan said after a while, his voice soft and wistful.
"Please don’t," I flashed him a warning look. He chuckled, the sound oddly comforting in its familiarity.
"Makes me want to spend more time in Napa, at least. It’s a shame how we live so close to so many beautiful things and never take advantage of them."
I nodded slowly, understanding what he meant. The rat race of life could really take over, especially in the hyper-competitive Bay Area, where it seemed like if you weren't constantly working, constantly striving, you were somehow failing at life. As if the world would pass you by if you even dared to close your eyes for a moment.
"I think we all could take a more leisurely approach to life," I found myself saying. "Here, people do that. It’s not all mobile coffee orders and sleep hacks because there’s never enough time. They actually stop to smell the literal roses.”
He raised his glass in a mock toast. "Or try the Pinot."
"There is not a Pinot in sight, I’ll have you know," I said with a small smile, surprising myself with the lack of venom in my voice.
He shrugged, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "I’ve never been very good at the wine connoisseur thing. Although I can certainly drink it," he chuckled as he pressed his glass to his lips. I echoed the sentiment by taking another swig directly from the bottle.
"It’s been cathartic to be here," I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "For more than one reason. But it’s peaceful. Even though I've been distracted with a million things to do, there’s still this level of contentment at the end of the day. Kind of a sense of accomplishment I never felt back home.”
Evan turned to me with an inquisitive look, his eyes softening. "You’re one of the most accomplished people I've ever met," he said, his tone sincere.
I flashed him an incredulous look. "I never felt like I got anywhere. Every day was jam-packed, and yet it still felt like there was a laundry list of things to do. Maybe that's just running a small business. But here, I guess even though there are still a million things to do at the end of each day, I feel a lot less pressure to get it all done before the sun goes down. Like, I know the work will be there tomorrow, and that’s okay. There’s no rush. There’s no pressure."
At first, Evan looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I probably was. We had operated in such a high-pressure environment for so long that it was hard to comprehend that people didn’t, in fact, live like that every day. But then his expression shifted, a smile spreading across his face, almost placid. He nodded and said nothing, like I'd given him a hit of a drug he didn’t know he needed.
As we sat there, the night wrapping around us like a soft blanket, I felt something shift between us. The anger and bitterness that had been fueling me all evening seemed to ebb away, replaced by a strange sort of melancholy. We weren’t who we used to be to each other, and we never would be again. But maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to coexist in this new reality.