Chapter 25 #3
Bastien downed the rest of the drink and placed the glass back on the table.
Juliana was right. Celine had caught on to his plan.
She had been playing with his heart-strings, just like he had been teasing hers, and somehow she had found the one that could unravel him entirely.
It wouldn’t surprise him if she tugged at it just to retaliate.
“What if I am?” he asked Juliana gravely. “How do I know it will last? Desire never has. Love cannot be that much different.”
Juliana seemed as if she wanted to correct him on that, but she decided to take a different approach.
“So what if it doesn’t?” she returned, much to Bastien’s shock. “You seemed to have no qualms about hurting her to get back at Jacques. What’s adding another broken heart to your list?”
“I can’t do that,” he stated. “And since when have you turned so cruel?”
“So it is cruel now, when someone you care about might get hurt?” When he couldn’t respond, Juliana smiled. “There you have it,” she said, pleased with her experiment. “Proof.”
Groaning, Bastien reclined on the chaise, draping a hand over his eyes.
“I hate it when you do that.” The silk bolster pillow underneath his head felt cool.
He wanted to turn to the side and press his cheek to it, but his limbs refused to respond.
He was so tired. So he surrendered his attempts, and remained lying on his back.
In the background, he could hear Juliana sashay about the room, the muted swish of her stockinged feet the only sound that corded through the air. It was so quiet he could even hear the ticking of his wristwatch in tandem with his heartbeats.
He dropped his hand down.
“It’s her birthday party on Saturday,” Bastien said, staring at the ceiling. “Jacques plans to propose.”
Juliana, who must have settled on the arm of the chaise, let her hand fall limply to her side, until her fingers touched the strands of his hair. She tugged at one.
“What is your plan, lover boy?”
Bastien wrinkled his nose at the moniker. “I’m going to buy her a present. I cannot possibly go there empty handed.”
“Nice try.” She tugged harder. “I meant Jacques. What will you do about him?”
Nothing. It was up to Celine to decide, even though it physically pained him to think she might refuse to open the studio with him.
But if his supposed love proved false, something fleeting, then Bastien didn’t want her to become one of the hearts he had broken.
He would rather her choose Jacques, whether she loved him or not, if that meant less tears.
“You know I’ve always liked to improvise,” he replied at last, forcing a smile.
Juliana did not return it. “Bas…love is a rare thing,” she said gravely, sounding prophetic as she looked down upon him.
“It will rip your chest open if you find you can't have it.” Then, almost lovingly, she smoothed his hair back, tangling her fingers into the thick strands.
“It's not only your heart tangled up in this mess. You can't just snip at random strings to release yourself from love. And you can’t do that to other people’s hearts, either.”
“Don’t worry about me, Jules. Paris is still full of girls. If I can’t have one, I’ll find another,” he said, brushing off her words, but even as he did, his heart thumped back sharply. Bastien ignored it. “Now, about that gift…”
Juliana sighed. She picked up her purse where she had left it on a three-legged stand, and dropped it on his chest. “Do be frugal.”
He flashed her one of his rare, genuine smiles. “I’ll try to look around first, I promise.”
Quickly, Bastien sat up and dumped the purse’s contents out on the chaise.
A silver lighter, matching his own, rolled out first, followed by a few hair pins, a lipstick, and several wrinkled banknotes.
He pocketed three, and was about to get up when a familiar-looking headband, stuck at the bottom of the purse, caught his attention.
“You know,” he started, his voice lilting with amusement, as he pulled it out, twirling it around his finger. “I will trust your diagnosis about being in love if you try it on yourself too.”
Juliana followed the movement as Ana?s’s headband caught the light and reflected it back in tiny glints. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Don’t start. We were talking about you.”
That couldn’t prevent him from playing Cupid for a little bit.
“I can bring a plus one for Celine’s birthday. You can come along if you want. Have a look at your subject of interest up close.”
“It’s better that I don’t,” Juliana said softly. “Whatever your sister feels, she seems intent on hiding it. And I am tired of doing that.”
Bastien couldn’t blame her, although he couldn’t blame Ana?s either.
Juliana had removed herself from the circle of socialites since she was fifteen.
She had been free to do as she pleased with whomever she pleased for years now, and a few words whispered behind her back meant nothing to her.
His sister, by comparison, had fear and shame drilled into her, and he couldn’t expect Ana?s to change that in a day.
“Cheer up, Jules,” he chirped, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Love will have me to confront with if it comes to rip open your chest.”
“Worry about yourself, lover boy,” Juliana called after him. “My heart is used to pain. It is yours I fear getting hurt.”