31. Celeste
Chapter 31
Celeste
I groan and drop my phone.
“Something wrong?” Caleb saunters into the kitchen, showered and bare-chested.
I woke up with a massive hangover. A glass of water and painkillers were waiting on my nightstand, courtesy of the man who took care of me last night. Who stirred feelings inside me, and left me void at the same time.
“Cora just texted me that the building where I used to have my dance school is available for lease again.”
I’m conflicted about what happened yesterday, and my feelings jumble even more as my half-naked husband ambles over to me and kisses my temple.
“You look a bit green.” He smirks.
“Va te faire foutre.” I swat at him, but he catches my wrist and pulls me to him, my body molding into his.
“I’m turned on even by your swearing.” He captures my mouth, his hand fisting my hair.
All my conflicting feelings collide and explode again. I need to get off this roller coaster. We need to name this new thing between us.
His kiss is bruising and worshipping at the same time. The man is driving me crazy. He walked away from me last night, and he walked back toward me this morning, so naturally I don’t know where I stand.
Or maybe it’s just me who needs to discuss, label, name this. Me who can’t simply enjoy things the way they are.
But that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. Because as much as I tried to shield myself, feelings have snuck in, and he should know.
Because feelings definitely weren’t included in our arrangement.
“Did you eat something?” He pulls away and tucks a tress behind my ear.
It’s such a simple gesture, but fuck if it doesn’t give me hope.
“I don’t think I can eat.”
“Well, as someone who has more experience with drinking, let me make you eggs and bacon. ”
My stomach lurches. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Believe me.” He chuckles and slaps my ass. “Sit and be pretty.”
“Batard.”
“If you want me to fix your hangover, don’t speak French.” He points to his underwear, grinning. And sure enough, I guess I do affect him.
With his impressive morning wood, he proceeds to make me breakfast, whistling.
“So do you miss it?” He moves around the kitchen with ease.
It’s like watching porn and eating popcorn while doing it. Arousing and comforting.
“Miss what?”
“Your dance school. Why did Cora text you about it?” The muscles on his back contract with every move, and I would film this if I could do it in a non-creepy way.
“I do. I miss teaching. A lot.”
“Why did you stop then?”
I let out a long breath. Not the conversation I hoped we would have, but he asked earnestly, so I don’t want to push my agenda.
“I took out a loan to expand the space, and just as I finished with renovations and was about to hire other teachers…”
He turns from the stove. “Last year?”
“The plan was viable, and the client’s interest was there. It would have worked, but my cash flow was dependent on my paid gigs in the clubs. When Charles van den Linden”—the man doesn’t deserve to be called his father—“blacklisted me from work anywhere in the city, I couldn’t keep up with the payments.”
“And the loan?”
I look away.
“Fuck, Celeste, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s none of your business,” I snap, embarrassed by my situation.
I recognize that his father’s irrational vendetta against Caleb’s sister-in-law was the catalyst for my failure, but it doesn’t lessen the fact that I failed.
Frustration fills the kitchen while he prepares a plate for each of us. We sit beside each other at the breakfast bar.
“How much do you owe?”
“A hundred and fifty thousand.”
“How have you been paying it?”
“From my paycheck.”
I’m glad we’re beside each other and I don’t have to meet his eyes.
“Eat,” he growls.
“Jesus.” I shove a forkful of eggs into my mouth, mostly to stop myself from lashing out. My indignation melts away when the perfectly soft and impossibly creamy texture hits my tongue. “These are really good.”
“I’m not just a pretty face.” He kisses my shoulder casually, using the words I teased him with before. It helps me to put my pride to the side.
“I should renegotiate the terms, though. Maybe you can help me with that?”
He turns to me. “You didn’t talk to the bank after you closed the school? It’s been a year.”
“I know it’s stupid—”
“But you’re not stupid. You have a natural business sense, and I saw the books in your apartment. I don’t understand.”
“I have a bureauphobia,” I blurt out.
Swiftly he swirls my bar stool and his, and I’m wedged between his knees before I can react. I brace myself for his laugh or doubt.
“The day of our wedding…” he says instead.
I jerk my eyes to him. He remembers my near panic at the courthouse and in the bank.
I nod, searching his face and finding compassion. I think.
“Thank you for telling me. Now, I’m going to take care of your loan, and you’re going to accept it.”
“I can’t. ”
“Yes, you can, and you will. In return, you give Mia dancing lessons for as long as she wants.”
“I already do that—for free, and with joy.”
He pinches my hip. “Okay, unlimited access to your pussy.”
I laugh. “Are you turning me into your personal sex worker?”
“I can afford it, since you didn’t buy that airplane.” He gestures to my plate. “Now cure your hangover, so I can fuck you nice and slow on this counter.”
I snort, but get serious. When I asked for help, I wanted him to deal with the bank, or at least accompany me. “You don’t have to pay my loan.”
“I’m still going to do it. I wish I knew how much the school meant to you sooner.”
I take another bite and almost moan. Fuck, how did I not know he makes eggs like a pro?
“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the theater, but the school was different. Dance is joy, and I love spreading joy. It’s amazing to see women and girls dropping their inhibitions, their image issues, their insecurities behind the door and experiencing freedom.
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s just an ego trip. On the stage, anyone can replace me, but in my school, I mattered. I felt irreplaceable.”
He studies me, tracing his fingers along my hairline, down my neck, over my shoulder. “You’re irreplaceable.”
Lily
@Celeste can you come to the bistro for a few candid pics?
Me
What?
Cora
Lily’s starting my social media campaign
Me
You can’t afford me. LOL
Cora
Free lattes for life?
Me
I’m already getting those! (devil emoji)
Cora
Exactly! You owe me:-)
Me
Okay, I’ll come in an hour
Saar
I hate you all
Me
???
Cora
???
Saar
You’re all on a different continent :-(
Me
FaceTime later?
You’re irreplaceable.
As a dancer?
As a teacher?
As a lover?
As his wife?
And why, suddenly, do I really want the latter to be true? Because the latter feels like the truth. Deep in my soul, I want, I need that to be true.
Caleb and I need to talk. I need to lay my cards on the table and tell him how I feel. There’s always the risk that he might not feel the same. But I need to rip off the Band-Aid before I’m in too deep.
Merde. I’m as deep as I’ve ever been. There’s no way I can protect my poor heart anymore.
“Could you maybe frown less?” Lily lowers her phone, startling me.
“Sorry, I was thinking about… a bill I forgot to pay.” I swirl a spoon in the glass mug in front of me.
“No,” Lily cries.
“What?”
She’s been trying to snap a few candid but glamorous pics of the bistro’s life, and I’m more distracted than helpful .
“We wanted to feature the beautiful layers of the latte.” Cora sits beside me. “Why don’t we take a break, Lil?”
Lily joins us. “No problem. I have other pics I can start with, but you, Celeste, with your looks, you’re just so real and beautiful.”
I grin. “Do continue.”
We laugh.
“So how is Sanjay working out?” I ask.
“He’s great, actually. I really hope he sticks around.”
The door chimes, and I glance up and shriek. “No way. Why didn’t you tell us?” I jump up and Cora turns.
Saar laughs and runs toward us. “I missed you, bitches.”
“But your text…” Cora pushes off her chair.
“I tricked you. Surprise!” She cheers, spreading her arms above her head.
We all hug and squeal like teenagers.
Saar’s blond hair is in a messy bun, and she doesn’t take off her large sunglasses. Even wearing a simple white tee and black leggings, she looks like the supermodel she is. “Who is that eye candy over there?”
“Don’t you dare.” Cora swats at her.
“Do you want him for yourself?” Saar teases.
“Yes, but not in the way you think.” Cora rolls her eyes, but she isn’t really mad. This is just us, and it feels so good and normal to hang out.
“When did you arrive? Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask.
“One of my jobs got canceled, and I just needed a change of pace. I’m only here for three days though. And I plan to sleep for most of them.”
“What’s up with the glasses?” Cora bumps her with her elbow.
“I partied all night and then decided it was time for home sweet home, so I’m a bit light-sensitive, shall I say?” She shrugs.
“Jesus, I wish I had your energy.” Cora sighs. “Did you party with someone interesting?”
Saar snickers. “Okay, you wouldn’t believe this, but the guy took me for dinner and then we went dancing. He was gorgeous, and I thought, this might be someone I could stand for longer than one night.”
“Oh my God, the relationship cynic is thawing.” Cora claps her hands.
Saar seems to have sworn off anything resembling commitment. I guess it runs in the family.
Last night’s encounter with Charles van den Linden reminded me that the van den Linden siblings grew up with an example that didn’t really show them what a healthy relationship looks like .
That they can be loving. Mutually enriching. Trusting.
But then I didn’t grow up with such an example, and it didn’t turn me off the idea of romance. Perhaps it’s my mom’s boasting heart that left a more lasting imprint than all the other stuff with my father.
“Hardly. No relationships for me. Listen to this, we’re dancing and having fun and there are touches and we made out a bit… and then he licked my armpit.”
I spit out the coffee I just sipped. “What the fuck?”
“What do you mean he licked your armpit?” Lily laughs.
“Exactly that. I was wearing a sleeveless dress, had my arms up dancing, and the dude leaned in and licked my armpit.”
“By accident?” Cora sounds incredulous.
“No accident. Apparently, for some men, a female armpit is like a pussy.”
“My dry spell has stretched for a while now, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t orgasm if a man licked my armpit instead of my pussy.” Cora shakes her head.
“To each their own kink, but I agree.” Saar shudders.
We continue chatting for a moment before Lily pulls out her tripod again.
“Can I take a picture of you here? It would really help with Cora’s marketing…” Lily fi dgets.
Saar looks from her to Cora and then at me.
“Sorry, I know you came to have a break,” Cora interjects after a beat of silence.
“Dude, are you kidding me? Of course you can take my pic. What’s the concept behind it?”
Lily perks up and explains to Saar what she has in mind.
“I guess I’m dismissed as your model,” I tease.
Cora’s eyes shine with unshed tears. “No, of course I want pics of you too.” She sniffles.
“What’s wrong?” Saar turns to her.
“I’m just…” Cora wipes her cheek. “You’re all so generous with your help. I’m so grateful.”
“Oh, sweetie, believe me, having a pic taken here is nothing. Lily’s ideas are great. And I’ll repost. Don’t sweat it.” Saar pulls out the elastic and tosses her messy hair to the side. Of course, it looks like she styled it for hours. Effortless and real.
“Besides, I was promised free lattes,” I deadpan.
“God, I missed you all. Even you, Lily, and your horrible coffees.” Saar winks.
Lily rolls her eyes. “Seriously, will I ever live my barista skills down?”
“Never,” we all say at the same time.
“You’re evil.” She pretend-glares at us, a smile on her face. “Not you, Saar, I’m grateful for your help.”
“Don’t even mention it. So what else is new? ”
I tense. I haven’t told Saar I’ve been sleeping with her brother. But of course, Cora glances my way, and it catches Saar’s attention immediately.
“What did my brother do?” Saar groans.
I let out a long sigh. “We kind of got a bit involved.”
She takes off her glasses, and I’m concerned about the red lines in her eyes and the deep shadows under them, but my heart hammers in my ribcage for a different reason.
I want my friend’s blessing. Not that there’s much to bless, or that she should have any say in it, but it still feels important.
“You slept with him?” She leans back.
I nod, the words lodged in my throat. Or in my mind, because I’m not quite sure what to say.
“So, the marriage is…” Saar’s eyes dart to Lily.
“She knows,” Cora confirms. “Do you guys need a minute?”
Saar shakes her head. “Obviously you’re all in the know more than me. Stay.” She turns back to me. “So the marriage is real?”
My shoulders fall slack. “It’s complicated.”
“Of course it’s complicated. It’s my brother. He never even commits to bringing a woman to his bed.” Saar puts her sunglasses back on.
Bringing a woman to his bed. All the instances of our affair rush through my mind. I always assumed that he had a public sex kink, and frankly, I didn’t mind discovering it was mine as well.
But was it actually more than that? Not just a kink, but a deep fear of commitment? I’m just one of his women. A lay he doesn’t bother to bring to his bed. Because in all of our encounters, he never has.
Last night? He wouldn’t even stay in mine.
You’re irreplaceable.
What a lie. I’m as dispensable to him as any other.