Chapter Forty One
Ophelia was in emergency fix-it mode. After Etienne left, she contacted her therapist the following morning and asked for a last-minute session.
Then she messaged Jade to see if she could meet for drinks after work.
Her head and heart were spinning. She wanted to trust herself completely again, but she needed to protect herself first. No one was going to take from her again unless she wanted to give it.
Ophelia met Jade at their favorite wine bar off St. Charles Ave. It was one of those weird January days where the skies were blue, the sun was shining, and you could get away with just a sweater. As the sun began to set, the friends sipped wine on the patio under a lamp heater.
“How’s Theo? Does he miss me?” asked Ophelia.
“Nuh-uh! You’ve got me out on a school night, and you want to talk pleasantries? Nope. Spill. The. Tea.” Jade’s left eyebrow raised in that knowing way.
Ophelia rolled her eyes dramatically and laughed. “You know me too well.” When she was finished telling Jade all about how Etienne confessed his feelings for her, Jade was practically vibrating in her seat. “You may speak now,” Ophelia said with a flourish of her hands.
Jade did not speak but made a squeal of delight that disturbed the entire patio.
“Shhh! Good Lord, woman,” admonished Ophelia.
“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it!”
“What are you talking about? You didn’t know a thing.”
“I did too. I told you! I told you!” Jade danced in her seat. “I was right.” She sipped her wine with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Well, don’t get too excited. I’m still struggling with it all. Obviously, I’m beyond attracted to him, and I really enjoy being around him. But I feel like it’s too soon. It’s only been a couple of months since…everything.”
“It’s been almost four months, and there is no time limit on when you can start dating again or when you can start trusting yourself again.”
“I know. As my therapist reminded me today, it’s very hard sitting with these conflicting feelings.”
“Well, I’m here for you no matter what you decide. If you decide to date now or in a couple of years. Do what makes you happy, what makes you feel good, not what you think you should be doing.”
Ophelia swiped several tears off her face at Jade’s words. Her phone buzzed with a message, briefly distracting her. She could see the preview of the text on the home screen.
Etienne: Your gumbo might be better than my mom’s.
Ophelia smiled.
“Etienne?” Jade asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Yeah, yeah. You know I love you, right?” asked Ophelia.
“I love you too,” Jade said and kissed Ophelia’s tear-stained cheek.
“I’m going to be dehydrated from all the tears I’ve cried. Now, can you please tell me about the other man in my life? Does Theo miss me or what?”
Etienne met Ophelia at her house the following Wednesday.
A cold front had come through over the weekend, bringing New Orleans from a crisp sixty degrees to a chilly thirty.
New Orleanians treated the drop in temperature like it was the apocalypse, with more concern over the cold than a Category 3 hurricane.
Etienne and Ophelia were bundled up in their running gear, about to exit the door.
“You sure you want to go running in this weather?” asked Etienne.
“Positive. I love running in the cold. It makes me giddy,” she said with a goofy smile on her face.
“You’re actually serious?”
“Yes! Come on, slowpoke, let’s go.”
Ophelia delighted in the sound of Etienne’s breathing and the patting of both their strides. When they reached the top of the levee, Ophelia turned to Etienne. “How ya feeling?”
“Freezing, O. Fucking freezing. How are you enjoying this?”
Ophelia was bouncing on the balls of her feet to keep warm. “It just feels so good. It even smells better in the cold.”
“Yes, because the sun isn’t heating the trash on the ground or the sludge in the Mississippi.”
“Awww, is Etienne cold and grumpy?” she teased. “I should have known you were a warm-weather person.”
“Why?”
“I guess you always look so tan, like you love the sun, or it loves you. I like the heat up to about seventy degrees, and then I’d prefer to tap out.” Etienne chuckled at her response. “What?” she asked. “I hate sweating!”
“Sweat doesn’t bother me. Everyone sweats.”
Ophelia’s mouth curved, and she felt an old twinge of herself return. “I’d like to see you sweat.”
Etienne’s eyes widened, and his lips parted. “Ophelia Marie Oubre, are you flirting with me?”
Ophelia bit her bottom lip and cocked her head with curiosity. “How do you know my middle name?”
Etienne took a step closer to her.
“I told you, I’ve liked you since the day I met you. I’ve picked up on some things over the past decade.” Etienne moved into Ophelia and gently rested his hands on her waist. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, his lips lightly brushing her earlobe. “First one back to the house wins.”
“Wins what?” she asked breathlessly.
“Winner decides,” he said, then spun her around in the direction they needed to go and took off running.
Etienne barely touched the front door before Ophelia.
Breathless, they tumbled inside to the warmth of her home.
Etienne stripped off his sweaty hat and jacket and hooked them on the coat rack by the door.
Ophelia followed suit and dug her phone out of her jacket pocket, placing it on the kitchen counter.
“Well, what will you choose for your prize? Although I will say, you barely won. And you had a head start,” Ophelia complained as she filled two water glasses from the fridge and handed one to him.
“Brrrr. I’d like a personal body heater,” he said and took the water glass out of Ophelia’s hand, placing it on the counter, then pulled her flush to him.
Her breasts were pressed up against his chest, and his chin met the top of her head.
She tilted her head back to see his face as he ran his fingers along her back.
On instinct, Ophelia arched into him. He snuck his hand under her shirt and flattened it on the small of her back.
“Eek!” she shrieked. “Your hands are freezing!”
“I told you I hated the cold.”
“So your prize is using me as your personal defroster?”
Etienne nodded seriously.
“Do you mind if I try some magic on you?” she asked.
“Mmm, nope,” he said, pulling her tighter to his body and nuzzling his face against the top of her head. “I’m your guinea pig.”
Ophelia quickly centered herself by listening to the beat of his heart.
She thought about how she wanted to send him that delightful feeling of being warm and cozy under a blanket on the couch with fuzzy socks on and a hot chocolate in hand.
It was oddly specific, but she felt like he needed just that right now.
She let her magic twine through her body, out toward her arms, and into her hands.
She pressed her hands into his back as she sensed the magic entering him.
A satisfied shiver shook his body. He exhaled and hummed. “Wow. I feel so much better. So warm and…”
“Cozy?”
“Yes.” Etienne stared into her eyes and whispered, “You’re remarkable, Ophelia Marie Oubre. What you do with your magic...” He shook his head with incredulity. “Your creativity and the strength of it is unlike anything I’ve seen before.”
Ophelia’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Your magic is even stronger than mine, though.”
“It took me a decade to get to this point, and you wield your magic effortlessly. Your magic is tied to your feelings. It’s fascinating to watch you express yourself that way.”
Ophelia couldn’t believe what he was saying. She also had no one else to compare her experience to. She smoothed her hands down his back.
“I’m glad I have you to guide me in all of this.”
Ophelia’s gaze dropped to his lips, and her breath turned heavy. Etienne tightened his hold on her in what felt like an anticipatory move. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she breathed him in. Clean and woodsy. Safe.
He made her feel safe.
She tilted her head up, pressed up on her toes, leaning in to kiss him.
Ophelia’s phone abruptly vibrated on the counter, jolting them out of the moment. She would have ignored it, except the screen was facing up and flashing the only person’s name whom she’d stop this moment for. Detective Lewis.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, stepping out of his hold. “I’m so sorry, but I have to take this.”
Etienne watched Ophelia with curiosity as she answered the phone.
“Detective Lewis?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, this is Detective Lewis. I assume this is Ophelia Oubre, my favorite stalker.”
Ophelia winced and awkwardly laughed. “Yep, that’s me. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, because…”
Detective Lewis cut her off. “I know. I’m sorry. I was out on medical leave. The number you have is my work cell. I didn’t have it with me the past couple of months.”
“Oh, I hope everything is all right.”
“Yes, yes. Just getting older is all.”
“I suppose we all are…” Ophelia trailed off for a second, feeling bad for the detective. Once she regained her train of thought, she said, “I was hoping I could get access to my investigation files?”
“I’ll have to submit a request, and I’ll need you to sign some documents. But since you were the original reporter and victim, it should clear.”
“Amazing! Thank you. How soon do you think I could get them?”
Detective Lewis paused to think. “Two weeks is a good estimate.”
They exchanged email addresses, and he agreed to send over the files as soon as it was cleared.
Ophelia couldn’t believe it. She had been dying to get her hands on those files.
Maybe this would lead to something, some clue.
Anything new at this point would be a relief. A sign that she may get closure.
“You okay?” asked Etienne.
“Yeah,” she said, a little breathless. Her emotions were scattered from the almost kiss and the detective’s call. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I really want there to be something in those files that will help. I know it’s a long shot.”
“I don’t think it’s a long shot, Ophelia. Your attacker in New York quoted the Exodus verse, had a matching cross necklace, and from what you told me, it sounded like he was also trying to…” Etienne didn’t know how to say it without sounding crass or coming off as insensitive.
“Trying to what?” asked Ophelia.
“You said he held a knife to your throat. I assume he meant to inflict the same harm to you that the Cutthroat Killer did to his victims.”
“Yeah, that detail wasn’t lost on me either. At the time, the cops thought he was likely trying to rape me and was using the dagger to keep me still. But…”
“I’m so sorry, O,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “Fuck. I can’t believe you’ve gone through all of this. No one should experience this much trauma in a lifetime.” Etienne cradled her head to his chest and rubbed soothing circles on her back.
“I know. It’s been a lot. It makes me wonder what would have happened if I didn’t have my tiger.” She wished she could see her protector during non-life-threatening events, but she supposed that was how the protector spirit worked.