Chapter 27 #2
Bastien, too, was dwelling on something.
He had tipped his head back slightly, eyes searching the sky.
They were lined with kohl she noticed, just like hers, and this close, his pupils appeared the exact colour of starlight.
Celine trailed his profile with her gaze, following the straight outline of his nose, then the two little curves of his lips.
On the corner, she knew, there was the dimple that only showed up when his smile was bright and genuine.
Celine had only seen it a few times but she had memorised the exact spot where it was hiding.
He was beautiful. He was so beautiful and full of life and he was all she wanted.
Bastien turned to her suddenly.
“Do you—” He cleared his throat when he caught her staring. “Do you regret it?”
Without missing a beat, Celine found herself saying, “No.”
It left her throat so tenderly, a whisper coming directly from her heart. But it was true. She didn’t regret kissing him. She wanted to do it again.
Ever so pensively, Bastien leaned forward and, plucking a floret from the white geraniums, he tucked it behind her ear. His hand was trembling when it grazed her cheek. “Did you think about my offer?”
Celine nudged at the gravel with the tip of her shoe. She didn’t respond until she had dug a considerable little hole. “Your offer…is all I’ve been able to think about. That, and…” Her stare fell on his lips.
A faint smirk touched them.
“Stop that,” she said gravely. “I shouldn’t be thinking about you at all. Jacques is inside, waiting to—to propose of all things, and all I want is to say no to him. You were right.” Celine heaved a dry chuckle. “I don’t love him.”
Bastien’s lips parted. “Celine…”
Celine rose, drying her hands on her dress, leaving streaks of water across the pleats.
Her chest was straining again, rising and falling at an abnormal speed.
She tried to gulp down a lungful of air, only it wouldn’t go into her lungs.
It got stuck in her throat like a pebble inside a cog, choking her.
“I was never in love with him,” she admitted hastily. “That is why I don’t regret kissing you. It is why I liked kissing you. Even though we shouldn’t have, because it was wrong, and so messy, and I can’t stop feeling guilty about it.”
The guilt—the guilt was eating her alive. She had told Ana?s everything, but she wasn’t the only one who needed to know. Celine had lied and kept lying to everyone she cared about and she knew they wouldn’t be as understanding as Ana?s.
Something wet fell on her cheek.
“Hey.” Bastien got to his feet, his hands immediately cupping her face. Only when he wiped the tears with his thumb did she realise she had started crying. “Celine?”
She wasn’t looking at him. Celine had turned her head sideways, facing the windows and the activity going inside.
The guests were still mingling, all happy smiles and slightly inebriated by the cocktails the waiters kept passing around.
The pile of presents by the door was already leaning sideways. The cake would be carried out soon.
The thought of returning inside twisted something vital within her.
“Let’s get out of here,” Celine rambled abruptly, shrugging off Bastien’s jacket and shoving it at his chest. She glanced about for her purse, before realising she hadn’t brought it with her when she had come out, and abandoned the task altogether. “Come on!”
Bastien needed a moment to register her words. “What?”
“Yes. Let’s go,” Celine urged. Clasping her fingers around his wrist, she tugged. “I can’t stay here anymore.”
“Celine…” He dropped his hand on her arm, rooting her in place.
Celine made to move, but he held firmly.
Her expression contorted. “Please,” she whispered.
Just this once she wanted to flee and not have to deal with any of it.
She hated feeling this way, this frustrating, smothering sensation that had no escape.
“I ca—I can't go back there again. You were right about that too. I was…I was suffocating in that room. I couldn’t—I can’t—”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she wrapped her arms around herself.
A sob racked through her, coming out in a tight wail.
Her heels disturbed the gravel when she made a step backwards.
And was immediately brought forward again, colliding softly with Bastien’s warm chest. His arms curled around her, so tight Celine felt her trembling squeezed into a halt.
“Breathe, okay?” Bastien said with a slight panic stitched in his voice. “I would really hate having to explain to that entire room of people what I was doing out here, cradling your unconscious body. Just breathe.”
His words were muffled when they reached her. Celine tried to focus on the vibrations his voice created in his chest and the steady thrum of his heart.
“Just breathe,” he repeated. Sliding one of his hands up her spine, he started tracing random patterns with his thumb. The sensation was soothing. Celine relaxed against him.
Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his torso, and stayed that way until she gained some of her sanity back. Once her body had fully stopped shaking she rolled her head back to glimpse at him. “That would have been terribly Heathcliff of you,” she said.
Bastien sniffled. “You know that’s not a happy book, right?”
He was distracting her, and Celine leaned into it like a crutch.
“Does it matter? As long as it’s a good book…”
“I suppose you’re right.” She could hear the teasing in his voice. What he suggested next didn’t surprise her at all. “If you’re of that opinion, I have a list of particularly improper books I think you would adore.”
Celine smiled into his vest. Stepping back, she smoothed her hair behind her ear and took a deep, long inhale.
“Thank you,” she said, looking anywhere but at him. “I am better now.”
She must have not sounded believable. Bastien’s fingers found her chin, tilting her head up.
“Would you still like to leave?” There was a terrible gentleness in his words, in the way his fingers rested against her skin.
She had never heard him speak so tenderly before.
“I can take you away. I have no qualms about dealing with Jacques afterwards. Or Grandfather. Or even your mother for that matter, although she terrifies me. You wouldn’t have to worry about any of them.
We can go, right now.” His grey eyes searched her face. “If that is what you want.”
He was giving her a way out; offering to bear all the hatred and the disappointment she had coming her way if she left. And he was letting her choose. For the first time since she could remember, Celine could choose: yes or no. Whatever she wanted.
Celine met his stare. And nodded. “Let’s go.”