13. Once Upon a Broken Frame #2
Chiara’s hands and face were gorgeous on her screen, the shot taken at a strange angle that made it look almost as if Chiara would raise her head any minute, as if her hands would draw that line they were poised to trace at any moment now… There was talent in the composition, in every line.
Her talent.
No, she might quit, because after what happened today, there was no way she could ever go back to the way things were.
But she had tasted freedom, she had breathed the air of possibilities.
She could not undream her dreams and unhope her hopes, and she could not, would not , return to the penthouse.
She glanced at the floor strewn with pieces of glass and at the picture of her mother, smiling at her from where it had fallen. If this wasn’t a sign… Vi sighed and stood up to clean when a quiet knock on the door startled her.
Was her father back? Was he here to demand that she go with him right away?
And what would she do if he did? She threw one last glance at her mother’s portrait and the mess on the floor.
Her heart was in overdrive as she slowly opened the door.
There would be hell to pay if she did what she wanted to do and told her father she would not acquiesce to his demands.
But it wasn’t her father. And even though it wasn’t him standing there—the dim bulb of the landing playing on those sharp cheekbones, obscuring the amber eyes and their expression from Vi—she knew there would still be hell.
Because where Chiara Conti-Lilienfeld was concerned, Vi would always pay.
And the cost would inevitably be more than she could afford.
Yet she would do so freely. Eyes opened, heart on her sleeve.
She wrenched the door open wider, and Chiara entered her space for the first time.
Vi felt that very same light and shadow that always accompanied Chiara suddenly suffuse her apartment.
They wandered around as their mistress did, then settled in the corners, waiting for what would happen next. The same way Vi herself did.
“Hello, Vi.”
She could feel the color bloom on her cheeks as hope took over her heart.
Hope for what? She had no idea, but the tone of that voice, the absolutely inadequate words, the oh-so-useless greeting…
Perhaps she was not alone in this? They’d always found uncanny ways to understand each other.
Maybe this time wouldn’t be so different.
Still silent, afraid to break the spell, she gestured to one of the tall chairs at the breakfast bar.
It wasn’t hospitable to keep the guest in the coldness of the kitchen versus the more inviting chairs of her living space, but Vi thought she couldn’t allow Chiara in, not yet. Not without knowing why she was here.
No, she had no defenses where this woman was concerned, and she had to do something, anything, to minimize the damage.
Chiara took a few careful steps towards the bar, stopping as she reached it, and nodded towards the broken glass on the floor in front of her. Vi shrugged, then shook her head when Chiara’s eyebrows lifted.
They shared a long look, and after a few moments, Chiara simply motioned for Vi to join her. Well, fair was fair, and so a few seconds later, Vi found herself sitting shoulder to shoulder with Chiara in her kitchen. To say that this was surreal was an understatement.
“I hope you don’t mind.” Chiara’s fingers were on the bar, tracing the marble veins as Vi’s eyes did the same with those mirrored on Chiara’s hands.
She chose silence again and shook her head.
Chiara sighed. “Everything changed today. I wanted to believe it’s alright that I’m here.
And that you will allow me to apologize properly this time. ”
Even in Chiara’s repose, her light and her shadows were tumultuous in the corners, and Vi found herself responding. If only to appease the beasts.
“There isn’t anything to apologize for. If anyone should, it’s—”
But Chiara interrupted her with a raised hand, and Vi’s eyes followed the movement as if mesmerized. Graceful, commanding.
Mercy.
Chiara slowly let her hand fall and shook her head.
“No, before you say something undoubtedly self-effacing, it’s Frankie who should be apologizing. To many people. Because it seems they knew all along and never told me.”
Chiara’s hands now lay flat and tense on the counter, and Vi wanted to cover them with her own. She didn’t dare, and the absence of courage was like a stab wound.
Before Vi found the voice to speak, to confess that she was also on that list of people who knew about Frankie’s affairs, Chiara made a dismissive sound.
“I don’t care. I don’t. It makes me an absolute fool that, apparently this has been going on under my nose for years, and I never saw it.
It doesn’t matter. So yes, this is on me… ”
“You are nobody’s fool, Chiara! And none of this is on you.” And now Vi gave into her earlier impulse and touched the tense hand that was still gripping the counter. After a moment, she gentled her own fingers and simply traced the blue rivulets of veins running along the translucent skin.
In those shadows that Chiara had brought in with her, their hands looked like a study of contrasts. Chiara’s nervous, shaking. Her own relaxed, tender, apologetic. Chiara’s nails were painted crimson and Vi caressed them one by one, to assure herself they were real, that Chiara herself was real.
“I seem to be, though. I seem to be a fool for you this time, Vi.” The way Chiara said her name took Vi’s breath away.
Again. How did this woman always do this to her?
One syllable. One syllable that she almost never ever used, choosing to call her Ms. Courtenay ad nauseam, only occasionally stooping to a wayward ‘darling’ or ‘Cenerella’.
But when she did call Vi by her chosen name, it was devastating. Maybe that was why she so seldom did, because she knew the power she held?
Finally, the meaning of Chiara’s words reached Vi, and she lifted her face from staring at their hands so quickly, it made her dizzy.
Unlike the trembling hands, eyes full of calm were watching her with the kind of soft expression one usually gives to someone who cannot, for the life of them, comprehend the most simple of concepts, but one indulges them anyway.
“Wha…”
Her chest was tight, taking a breath was impossible and yet vital.
Because somehow tonight her life had taken a turn and everything she had ever dreamed of was here, in front of her, freely offered.
Just to her. The tightness did not subside at the realization that her heart hammered a mile a minute in her ears.
She tried to shake her head, but dislodging this feeling was impossible, since the one who was responsible for her heart was looking at her, eyes full of affection.
She was lost in them, in this emotion, starving for it. There was no shaking it.
“Eloquent, so eloquent.” Responding to her earlier half question, Chiara sighed and leaned closer, and now Vi could see mischief along with fondness dancing in those amber depths.
“I was having the worst day of my life. The absolute worst. And then, when my world was falling apart, when I was literally standing on the edge, deciding what to do next, and when that one step was so tantalizing… Amidst all that turmoil and pain and grief, I felt as alone as I’ve ever been—and alone and I are on a first name basis.
Yet, there you were, ready to save me, even though you were shaking with fear, your teeth chattering and your breath coming out in sobs.
I heard you before I saw you. And I was no longer alone.
The step was no longer tempting. Because you were there, Vi.
You offered that I could hold on to you.
And for a precious moment, I held tight. ”
Chiara turned her hand, palm up, and their fingers tangled sweetly, even as she went on.
“It has been quite a journey, this day. But something kept tugging at my mind, at my heart, really. I wasn’t alone.
You didn’t let me be. In fact, you haven’t let me be alone for months now.
You’ve been with me. At first as an adorable peculiarity, but soon you became a steadfast, calming presence, a charming distraction from my crumbling marriage and daily troubles.
Except the charming distraction very soon turned into someone I looked forward to seeing and spending time with.
Who listened to me. Who inspired me. Vi, surely you know by now that the entire current Lilien Haus collection exists thanks to you.
And for you, really. My small gift to you for being there for me. ”
Vi knew she had tears in her eyes, but she didn’t care. The pendulum of the events of the days had swung again, and she was plunged from fear and dread to wonder. Chiara created because of her?
“You understood me, darling. Like nobody before you. You took one look at my vision, as raw as it was, and you saw what I wanted to see, you heard my words before I could utter them. Can you blame me for wanting to hold on to that? To you?”
Vi gripped the fingers holding hers tighter because this was wonderful, but while Chiara was ascribing her all these amazing qualities, she knew her own motives hadn’t always been pure. And she had to say so. Something about this woman never quite allowed her to hide the truth.
“I believe you think too highly of me. I’m…
I was never… Never selfless…” She stumbled over her own words, and Chiara reached and lifted her chin a little higher, the gesture so familiar.
How many times had Chiara raised her face exactly like this, how many times had she looked into her eyes while those cool fingers cradled her jaw, caressing her cheekbone with her thumb?
Vi’s eyes suddenly widened. And Chiara’s smile bloomed, the sensual lips stretching in mirth.