21. Giselle
The evening”s cool breeze thundered Giselle”s cheeks with a playful kiss as Jude”s car cruised down the winding, coastal road. Her head lolled back; eyes squeezed shut while listening to nearby ocean waves and the jumping static of the radio whenever Jude flipped to the next station.
Speaking of Jude, his hand reached over the center console to sit on her clothed thigh, thumb perched along the edge. He occasionally ran his fingers along the hemline of her cocktail dress, playing her heartstrings with silent confidence. But his eyes stayed firmly on the road, responsible as ever.
Giselle trusted him with her safety and her heart.
She spent the last few weeks glued to Jude”s side whenever possible, rediscovering what it meant to be head-over-heels. Jude made a great pretend boyfriend, without a doubt. But the real deal blew Giselle”s expectations straight out of the water.
He modeled perfect manners in public, like a true gentleman. However, Jude”s introversion secretly hid the sweet, affectionate man he was from the world. If Giselle didn”t know better, she”d believe he came to life from her purest fantasy.
She”d forgotten how badly she missed the loving touch of another person until Jude reminded her. Boyfriends were supposed to match her input into the relationship and want to spend time with her. Boyfriends were affectionate without strings attached.
Whatever she wanted to do, Jude wanted to join her.
”Hah!” Jude exclaimed, breaking her out of her thoughts when his hand slid back to her thigh. She hadn”t realized it ever left. ”95.9 exclusively plays throwbacks every Thursday, and we”re just in time for the 60s.”
Giselle giggled. ”Is that right? Don”t tell me you can sing; you”ve held out on me this whole time.”
”I”m afraid I can”t sing, or at least not well.” Jude shook out his newly trimmed hair, letting the wind rumple his otherwise dignified appearance. ”But that doesn’t stop me.”
His grin shone underneath the moonlight, glimmering like the crests of the dark waves beyond the cliffs. Giselle leaned over and twisted the dial for the volume to be louder, breath held as the commercial break wrapped up.
-First up on the sixties rotation comes to us from the most beloved pop sensation from across the pond. Here”s ”Hey Jude” from The Beatles.
”No way. Please tell me you know this one.” Giselle kicked her feet under her skirt, her head thrown back in the breeze with laughter. Her glee prompted a playful squeeze of her thigh by Jude.
”Obviously. As a kid, my parents used to sing this song to me all the time.” The fond crinkle in the corners of his eyes promised sweet nostalgia. The first stoplight entered into view ahead, glaring red. Jude slowed the car at the white line, turning his face to Giselle. ”Hey, Judeeeeeee.”
”No.” Giselle covered her face, giggling hard at the ache in her ribs. ”You weren”t lying when you said you can”t sing very well.”
”It”s fine because you”ll sing with me.”
”I can”t sing.”
”We”ll be awful at it together,” Jude smirked, batting his lashes at her as he belted the chorus. He paused between the lyrics, holding his hand out to her as if he grasped a microphone for her to sing into.
Giselle swatted his hand away, all gentle and playful. ”Absolutely not. I”m not singing, no matter how cute you look.”
”Awww, you think I”m cute?” Jude winked. The red from the stoplight glowed over Jude”s features, illuminating him in its fiery vibrance. Giselle watched in awe, taking in his exaggerated lip-syncing with his voice fading in and out.
He pointed to her again, an invisible microphone in his hands, but the flash from red to green saved her ass. Giselle shook her head. ”Better luck next time.”
Jude sighed. ”It was worth a shot.” He pulled away from the empty intersection, speeding into the evening with The Beatles narrating their escape. The wind whipped around them, but Giselle couldn”t find it in her heart to mind the colder sting numbing her cheeks.
Their path brought them from the seaside to the quiet residential street where Giselle resided. Jude turned down the radio as they approached her family home, and the ambient noises of the night replaced the music with its faint stirrings.
Oh, how Giselle loved the stillness of a sleeping neighborhood.
Several turns after another delivered them to the driveway of her house, left wide open for Jude”s car to slide in. He cut the lights and the engine, finally finding her with his warm eyes.
”Thanks for tonight,” Giselle murmured, unbuckling herself without tearing her eyes from Jude”s. The mere connection between their gazes inspired a skip in her pulse, jolting with every subtle dip in Jude”s line of vision, flitting between drowning in her eyes and finding his revival on her lips. ”Dinner was amazing.”
”We had a good week, so why wouldn’t we celebrate?” Jude whispered. The two plunged headfirst into a comfortable silence.
”Every week is a good week when I get to see you. ”
”If anyone”s lucky in this relationship, it”s certainly me. You”re my dream girl, Giselle.”
Heat flushed along the length of Giselle”s neck from sweet nothings whispered from the driver”s seat. She smiled, ”You always know what to say to make me blush.”
”It”s one of my special talents.” Jude stretched out of the driver”s side, quickly rounding the back of the car. He offered his hand while opening her door, smiling cheekily. ”May I escort you inside?”
”Yes, you may.” Giselle gripped his hand, and Jude barely moved before she got out of the car. She nestled into his arms, tucking her head against Jude”s chest for a perfect angle to smell his spritz of cologne through his gray dress shirt.
His arms cocooned around her as the two strolled to the porch, dragging their feet. Neither said it, but they didn”t have to. Not when their pace turned glacial, peppered with frequent stops to enjoy the evening air.
Giselle”s dark pink dress skimmed the bottom of her kneecaps with its flared skirt when she and Jude climbed the stairs. Her vintage dress did little to insulate her from the evening weather while stalling on the porch. Despite the chill in the April air, she would brave the weather to spend more time with Jude.
She fumbled with her purse; eyes more fixated on the fit of Jude”s suit to his body than finding her house keys. She swallowed, stuck on the lump of sweet desire pooling in her throat. ”Did I tell you how handsome you look tonight?”
”Maybe.” Jude quirked a thick, angular brow, but his mouth wavered with the tell-tale signs of a smile threatening to break through his naturally stern fa?ade. ”But I won”t stop you from reminding me.”
Giselle hummed, running her hands down the buttons of his shirt. Something about Jude in a suit left her brain more scrambled than eggs on a greasy pan. ”Well, you look extremely handsome tonight and every night.”
”As much as I like you attempting to smooth talk me, I know what you want.”
”Oh? What”s that?”
”This.”
In a swift move, Jude”s hand cupped her face and chin with a firm hand and pulled her into a kiss that added more stars into the sky above them. Jude kissed with conviction, never lacking in anything. The weight of his tongue skimming her lower lip and teasing her mouth open felt familiar in its comfort, made perfectly for her.
Each embrace promised her that their three little words still lived on, striving toward forever.
Giselle stretched her arms around Jude”s shoulders, chest to chest, and sighed upon his mouth backing off hers. ”You were right.”
Jude chuckled and stroked his thumb down her face. ”I figured as much. Promise me you”ll sleep soon. . . and dream sweetly.”
”Of course, I will. . . as long as you show up in my dreams,” Giselle nodded with as much seriousness as she could muster. She chewed hard on her lip when a goofy smile washed over Jude”s features. ”Any chance I could convince you to stay over? I have the sudden urge for a steamy, hot shower, and it would be a shame not to share.”
Jude”s forehead pressed flush against hers as he panted audibly. Giselle”s jaw buzzed from wherever he traced his fingers, and the soft groan from her boyfriend pushed the issue further into the spotlight. ”There”s nothing I want more than to join you in the shower.”
”Mmm, I sense a ”but” coming.”
”But I have a paper due for my seminar course first thing in the morning. I need to put the finishing touches on my revisions after the latest office hours.”
”And if you stay, you won”t be able to focus?”
”Not on a damn thing that doesn”t involve me between your legs and hearing you moan my name into your pillow for at least an hour. Rain check?”
”Of course,” Giselle hummed, pushing onto her tiptoes to peck him for one sweet farewell. But she quickly lost herself in Jude”s mouth, eagerly moving against hers, testing the fragile denial of a shower. ”Rain check.”
When Giselle said Jude gave her the best few weeks of real dating, she hadn”t included the sex in the equation. Simply put, her and Jude”s compatibility shattered every internal scale she used to have when sex was involved. Jude embraced feedback like a true scholar; he approached her pleasure like the scientific method.
Experimentation to learn what made her satisfied became his go-to move, and Giselle loved it every single time. Why would she want to leave the bed when she had Jude to keep her company?
No rush, no fuss, and all love.
Jude smiled against Giselle”s lips when she went for another peck, devolving into a more involved kiss as quickly as the last one. His hands roamed down her body to grope at her hips, sparking friction.
He grumbled, ”If you keep kissing me like this, I will cave and pull an all-nighter because I lost track of time.”
”Worth a shot,” Giselle giggled, pulling back from her boyfriend. ”Drive safely back to your parents”. I love you, and sleep well after finishing your paper.”
”Love you more. Get inside, okay?”
”I need to make sure you drive off safely.”
”Fine, we can do it simultaneously,” Jude remarked with a final kiss, smudged against her forehead, before racing to his car. He slid in the driver”s seat as Giselle grabbed her keys from her purse, wrenching the door open to its creak.
Jude waved, and she waved back, seeing his car back out of her driveway. She stepped inside to the fading engine of his coupe, swooning to the sound of her lover. Would it be embarrassing if she missed him already?
Giselle kicked off her shoes by the front door and locked it behind her. She didn”t get too far into the house before Carrot”s bright eyes appeared in her path.
”Hi buddy!” she cooed, scooping Carrot into her arms. Giselle kissed his head with loud, exaggerated smooching sounds. Carrot tolerated her greeting with a squeaky meow of his own. He snuggled close to her chest and rubbed her chin with his head.
Giselle dashed through the living room and kitchen en route to her bedroom when the path became off-limits. Standing in the door to the hallway with her bedroom, her mom and dad lingered. She almost forgot they existed, let alone shared the same living space these days.
They were staring. Staring at her.
”Giselle,” her mom whispered, hands clenched together until her knuckles flashed white from the strength of her grip. ”Can we talk?”
”I”m feeling tired,” Giselle replied, not waiting for a beat to pass between them. Talking with her parents was the perfect mood killer for an otherwise good day. Carrot wriggled in her arms, meowing low with an almost irritated tone.
”Please, it”ll only be a few moments.”
”Alright, I can spare a few moments,” Gisele offered warily.
”Your mother and I wanted to discuss our behavior from the other week.” Her dad cleared his throat, unable to drop the kicked-puppy vibe to his demeanor. The version of him she remembered had always been a more soft-spoken guy with an unassuming presence, on the bland side considering his job in accounting. ”When you and your boyfriend wanted us to join you for dinner.”
”We wanted to apologize to you,” her mom blurted out, clumsily crashing into her dad”s beating around the bush. Giselle stared at them as the trainwreck sprung to life before her eyes, complete with tears welling up on her parent”s faces.
”Do you know what you”re apologizing for?” asked Giselle, still carrying Carrot in her arms like one would cradle a toddler, perched on her hip, and snuggled up to her chest.
”We”ve been avoidant of you. Neglectful,” her dad remarked while her mom sniffled hard. ”Our friend recommended us to a specialist who handles families a few weeks ago. We”ve been going twice a week to see the doctor since that night.”
”She”s been firm about addressing the issues head-on, and your father and I have realized how we”ve been taking some of our negative feelings out on you. We were on the younger side and earlier in our marriage than when we wanted to have kids, and when we found out we were having you, all of our plans went on the back burner. Our therapist says that we”ve held onto some subconscious resentment. Because you”re older now, we”ve prioritized the life we wanted back then. It’s why we go out all the time.”
”Is that what you two believe, or are you parroting what your therapist said?”
”We believe it. We do. Your father and I were unfair in responding to you and your boyfriend. I know it isn”t right or fair, but you seemed to be thriving. So, we let ourselves believe that you didn”t need us, and we could finally put ourselves first.”
Giselle”s eyes screwed shut, barely avoiding the pointed sigh lodged into her throat. ”I might”ve seemed well adjusted, but I was stuck in a less than stellar relationship with my first boyfriend, had no real friends of my own, and spent the years since graduation so lonely. I needed you. You”re my parents and are supposed to be there for me! I spent years stuck to someone who used me because no one intervened, and you could’ve changed that if you had been present.”
”We failed. We know.” Her dad jumped forward when her mom began to sob, twisting the metaphorical knife deeper into Giselle”s ribs. ”Your mother and I are so sorry that we left you alone. Your confrontation the other night was the wake-up call we needed.”
”We”re so sorry. We are.” Her mom hiccupped through heaving, loud sobs.
”We wanted you to hear us out about this. I know it”s a long shot, but is there any chance we could start where we left off. . . repair our relationship before it”s too damaged?” her dad asked.
Giselle”s eyes jumped between her parents, torn between them and the wriggling cat in her arms. ”I”ll be honest. It”ll take a lot more than a weepy apology for me to consider it. I still don’t know where you go most nights, out until late, but I’m too tired to care. Maybe one day. . . if and only if you make a genuine effort to undo the last few years of emotional neglect.”
”We will! Absolutely!” The frantic agreement from her mom matched how hard she smeared away her tears. Yet the glossy sheen over her eyes and the smudged black splotches of damp mascara on her cheeks had Giselle hesitant.
”That”s easier said than done. But I can”t accept your apology yet, not when I haven”t given myself the time to process everything and move past the hurt. Those steps come with time and, more importantly, space for independence.”
Her dad nodded. ”I get that. . . we get that. If you”re still considering moving out, we understand and have some of your past rent deposits. We could give you the money to find a new place.”
”It”s fine,” Giselle cut him off gently. ”I planned to spend the next couple of months saving up anyway. I have some important decisions relating to school, so I”ll finalize all my plans around that anyway.”
”You don”t have to move out either! We”re not trying to push you out before you”re ready!” her mom babbled, still fighting against the tears. ”You have your garden you worked so hard on, and we”d give you the space you needed.”
Giselle shrugged, shifting Carrot into her other arm. His weight burned heavily against her arms, straining her exhausted body into limpness. ”We can discuss it later. I should head to bed.”
”Of course. You must be tired,” her dad remarked, voice trailing off when he met her mom”s eyes.
”We”ll leave you be. . . uh, one last thing before you go. Your father and I also wanted to apologize to your boyfriend. Jude seems like a young man with good morals, and he clearly makes you happy.”
”He does.” Giselle smiled. Carrot mewled at the mention of Jude, further proving that Jude Beauregard turned her life around. ”He”s everything to me.”
She stepped forward as her parents moved out of the doorway, allowing her to squeeze by and head for her bedroom. But as she passed, hope followed her to bed.