Chapter 27 #2
He didn’t answer right away, as he was starting to second-guess himself. He was about to go to her and bring her back in when, with a loud shout, she told him, “Would you quit worrying? I know you’re worrying, Phillipe. I’ve been swimming for years, plus it’s only up to my thighs.”
Smiling at her smart little mouth and the constant reminders she kept giving him, he nodded slightly as if she could see him.
“Okay, fine. Can you float?”
She lowered herself into the water. “Yes, I can float.”
As she stretched out, he looked up to the sky and noticed that several clouds had started to shift in overhead. Damn it.
Wondering how much time they had before they lost the light, he picked up his sketchpad and started to draw.
Her dress drifted all around her as she held out her arms to the sides of her body.
He sketched her for a solid thirty minutes.
He captured the outline of her hair, the yards of material, and the water.
He figured he’d fill in the violin and other details tomorrow.
He couldn’t help adding her lips, though. They were parted, and she looked peaceful as she lay there in the water. As he shaded from her hip down to her legs, he noticed her ankles had started to fall beneath the water. She was getting tired.
Smiling, he figured that she didn’t even realize it. And she thought she could float.
“Chantel,” he called out.
When he got no answer, he placed the charcoal on the sketchpad and called out again. He figured that the water was covering her ears or she had zoned out as she lay relaxed in the warm afternoon sun.
“Chantel!”
He was about to stand and go to her when a fat raindrop hit the page he was working on. Looking up to the sky, he saw the clouds were darkening and moving at a more rapid pace. Placing the pad on the ground, he stood and made his way out into the water.
He didn’t know if he was imagining it, but it seemed like the current had picked up. Chantel was exactly where he had left her, but he knew he was right about the current because her dress was shifting much more with the water streaming all around her.
When he got closer, he called her name again, feeling that the water was now to his waist. It had definitely risen in the last thirty minutes. All of a sudden, that sliver of fear started to slide back in.
“Chantel!” he called more frantic than before.
This time, she turned her head toward him just as he reached her. She smiled, and he felt the weight lift from his heart as she moved to raise herself. That was when she faltered slightly.
The expression on her face shifted, turning to one of confusion. “Phillipe?” she asked.
Moving quickly, he made it to her side and reached out to grip her shoulder, trying to help her get upright.
He watched as she seemed to be pulling on her foot, straining to move it.
She attempted to place her other foot on the bottom to stand up, but she failed.
The water sloshed around her. As her foot was swept up, she was thrown on her back again.
What the hell is going on? He felt his heart start to pound in time with the speed of the now rapidly falling rain.
“Phillipe?” she called again.
This time, he could tell she was starting to panic.
Not knowing what to do, he moved around to where her head was resting above the water and reached out to grip it with his hands.
“I’m right here,” he tried to reassure her as he looked around them. He was feeling anything but calm.
“My foot… The boulder. I don’t understand what happened.”
He looked down where her arms were lying beside her. One leg was floating, and the other was now fully submerged in the moving water.
“Stuck,” he told her, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. “You’re stuck.”
Feeling the rain hitting him on the back of his neck, he was shocked when she opened her mouth and smiled.
“It’s raining.”
He knew that she didn’t understand yet. She hadn’t put it all together the way he had, but as she lay there, letting the rain hit her face, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
“Can you float here for a minute, Beauty? I want to see if I can get your leg free,” he whispered, hoping he sounded a hell of a lot calmer than he felt.
“Yes,” she responded. Almost as though it was an afterthought, she added, “I can’t touch the bottom anymore.”
He tried to control his shaking voice. “I know. Let me check out your leg, okay?”
“Okay.”
Moving to where her leg was being pulled under the water, he told himself it was as simple as getting down there and getting her free.
As he looked back to where her head lay half in the water with the rain falling down around her, he closed his eyes and sent up a prayer, hoping that he would be able to fix whatever he found beneath the surface.
When he opened his eyes, he took a deep breath and dove under the water. With the clouds covering the sun and the rain hitting the surface, seeing what he was looking for was a difficult fucking task. Finally, he zeroed in on the problem.
Her foot and dress were wedged between not one but two boulders under the surface. Fuck. This is not fucking good. Swimming over to it, he grabbed the material and yanked it hard, feeling her also try to pull at it from above. The fucker wouldn’t budge. Jesus.
Feeling his breath leaving him, he pushed himself from the bottom back up to the surface. When his head broke free, he took a gasping gulp of air and watched as she craned her head toward him.
“Still stuck?” she asked softly.
Moving quickly up to the side of her head, he tried to calm his breathing as the rain beat down on them. He stroked her hair, pushing the hopeless words from his mouth. “Yes, you’re still stuck.”
“It’s raining harder, Phillipe.”
This time, he knew that she’d realized what was going on.
“Yeah, it fucking is.” His voice cracked on the admission. He took a moment and reminded himself that panicking would not do either of them any good. “I’m going to try again in just a second. We’ll get you free. Don’t worry,” he said, trying to convince her as well as himself.
Chantel nodded, but he could tell she was starting to wonder.
“The water… It’s getting faster.”
Biting his lip to keep in the curse he wanted to scream, he replied, “Yes, it’s getting faster.” Before she could say anything else, he told her, “Now, you just keep floating, okay? I’m going to go back down and try again. We’ll get this. I will fucking get this.”
Chantel didn’t answer, but she closed her eyes to the rain falling steadily down upon them.
He dove back down and took a hold of her calf.
Pulling as hard as his body would let him, he tried to make her foot shift just a little, but nothing happened.
His lungs were burning, her foot was still stuck, and nothing had changed. Absolutely nothing had fucking changed.
As soon as he surfaced, on a rushed and ragged breath, he said, “I need to go and get help.”
He didn’t have a clue whom he’d get. Penelope wasn’t physically able, and anyone else was several miles away.
“No,” Chantel cried out. She reached out to him. “No, don’t leave me here.”
Wading up to her head, he took her cool hands. “I can’t get you free on my own, Chantel. I need to go and get help.”
“I’m scared, Phillipe. I don’t want to be here alone.” Her voice trembled, and he felt as though someone had impaled him with a hot poker. “Don’t leave me here.”
That was when he made a decision. He made a promise that he knew would destroy them. “Okay. I won’t leave.”
“Promise?” she demanded.
He ran unsteady fingers down her cheek and gripped her hand tightly. “I promise.”
The sun had finally been replaced by the moon, and as the rain continued to fall on them, he moved around to where Chantel’s head was.
Placing his hands beneath the water, he lifted her so that her head was free of the current moving quicker with every passing minute.
The water lapped above his waist and covered her entire lower half.
“Phillipe?” she whispered softly.
Looking down, he could see her eyes were open, staring up at him. Battling his tears, he squeezed her head gently as he stood there completely helpless to do anything.
“Yes?” he managed to ask.
“Talk to me.”
Biting his bottom lip, he tipped his head back, feeling the rain fall on his face.
How can I possibly talk to her? What am I supposed to say?
She was stuck to the bottom of a river that was fucking rising, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
A river he had brought her to. A river he had put her in. I am killing her.
“Phillipe?” she murmured. “What are you thinking?”
Feeling an uncontrollable sob tear from him, he confessed, “I’m thinking that I should never have brought you here.”
She reached back and grasped one of his hands holding her head. She was miraculous. Even in a situation like this, she was comforting him.
“No, don’t do that,” she told him firmly.
He leaned down and pressed an upside-down kiss to her lips. They were cool from her body having been in the water for so long. As he felt her mouth part softly beneath his own, his tears fell, joining the moisture already on her cheeks.
“I’m cold,” she whispered against his mouth.
Sucking back an anguished sob, he straightened. “I know, Beauty. I’m so sorry. God, am I sorry.”
A shiver racked her body as her eyes closed.
“Shh, don’t do that,” she said.
The rain continued, and the river rose. There was absolutely nothing he could do but hold her and try to calm her. He was fucking useless.
“Don’t do what?” he asked as clearly as he could.
“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”
He shook his head. “I brought you here. I put you in this fucking river, Chantel. Let my guilt happen. Trust me, I deserve it.”
Her small teeth—teeth that had once bitten him in moments of pleasure—bit down on her bottom lip to keep her from trembling and crying.
“Guilty? What are you guilty of?”
“Everything,” he confessed as he stroked her cheek.
“Do you see the lights over there?” she asked.
Closing his eyes, he blocked out what she was telling him. “You don’t see lights over there, Chantel. You can’t see anything.”
“Just like you can’t be guilty,” she pointed out gently.
He watched her wet lips part on a soft sigh.
“Don’t let them make a villain out of you. Don’t let them break you.”
He pressed his lips to hers again, knowing what she was trying to tell him, but the truth was that the lights were there. They were coming, and it was his fault.
He looked into her sightless eyes. “You can’t break a man that’s already broken.”
Water swirled around them, and he firmly planted his feet and continued holding her.
Her lower body pulled her down as he pulled her up.
He refused to let her go. His arms were shaking from the rigid position he had been holding for some time now.
Still, she lay there calm, almost resigned, as he felt his heart being torn from his chest, knowing he was watching her being pulled away from him.
He cursed God and pleaded with Him to take him instead, but he knew it was pointless. This could only end one way. As he stood there helpless, he knew that was the cruelest fate of all. He knew how this was going to end, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
She had closed her eyes earlier. He guessed it was around twenty minutes ago. She hadn’t opened them or spoken since. He needed to hear her to reassure himself that she was still there, still fighting this losing battle with him.
“Chantel,” he said softly. His throat was sore from silently crying as he gripped her head in his hands, praying he was strong enough to hold her. “Chantel.”
He now stood in water chest deep as the rain hit the back of his neck. All he felt was numb.
“Wake up,” he whispered. “Come on, Beauty. It’s time to wake up.”
Eyes of gray opened. Eyes that held his soul focused as a small smile touched lips of red.
“You stay with me, okay?” he ordered her firmly, trying to keep his voice from trembling.
Those same lips smiled slowly, and he felt his heart crack in two. “It’s too cold. I can’t feel my feet anymore.”
“That’s just because they’re numb,” he tried to reassure her as a shiver racked her entire body again. He blinked rapidly, trying to see her clearly.
“I’m not scared, Phillipe, not anymore.”
Shaking his head, he finally lost the tight grip he had on his emotions. He let the tears fall down his face as his body shook from the soul-shattering pain it was enduring.
“I’m not scared, not as long as you’re here with me.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “The water is much higher now. I can feel it against my chin.” Suddenly, she cried out, “Diva!”
The name broke free from her cool lips with a surprising burst of force.
“You must take Diva, Phillipe. Don’t let them have her. They don’t understand…” Her voice faded as the eyes that held his soul pleaded with him. “She is me, and I belong to you.”
Swallowing in as much air as he could, he pushed out the only reassurance he could now give. “Don’t you worry. I won’t let Diva go, and I won’t leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”
He tried to hold her higher, but he couldn’t make her move, not even an inch.
The last thing she whispered was, “Neither am I.”
As he stood there for the next thirteen and a half hours, the water rose to his shoulders, far above Chantel’s chin, far above where he was able to hold her. Then it fell away, leaving him cradling her in water up to his thighs.
She left him in a peaceful river that turned out to be the most deceptive place of all.
I am still standing behind him as the final words leave his mouth.
Tears are streaming down my face, and my is heart breaking for the agonizing loss he suffered.
As soon as he turns toward me, his face is etched in sorrow and pain, and his eyes are bloodshot from the tears he’s shed while laying his soul bare.
I have no words for him, not one. How do you give a tortured man absolution?
How do you convince him it was not his fault when he so clearly believes that it was?
As he makes to move by me, I reach out and grip his arm. He stops as I turn. Looking up at him, I see an expression so broken that I’m surprised he’s still able to breathe.
I offer him the only thing I am able. “She never did leave here that day.”
His eyes search my face, his expression never wavering as he moves away from me.
“Neither did I.”