“You came.” His familiar voice travels across the room. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
Straightening my shoulders, I try to remind myself that he is not referring to this afternoon when I brought myself to a spectacular climax, fantasizing about her. No, that dark secret still remains solely mine.
I make my way over to where he obviously wants me to stand, and I turn to him. “Of course, I’m here. This is why you invited me to the chateau, correct?”
He tilts his head to the side. Seemingly out of nowhere, he asks, “What’s different tonight?”
“Excuse me?” I query, tugging on the bottom of my shirt, a little nervous now.
This man constantly has me questioning myself. It’s hard to believe that I ever had a moment where I was comfortable enough to let him inside of my body—unless, of course, I hallucinated that whole episode in the vineyard as well. With the way my mind keeps playing tricks on me, it would not surprise me.
“What is different?” he repeats, moving toward me. His long legs cross the space in no time at all. “You seem defensive tonight, like you’re out to prove something…or perhaps you’re hiding something.”
Swallowing hard, I clasp my fingers together, fidgeting with my nails.
“I’m not hiding anything. How absurd,” I tell him.
I don’t feel he’s convinced because those shrewd sage-colored eyes narrow as he licks his bottom lip.
“Maybe I’m defensive because you challenged me this afternoon. Will you be wearing your armor? Does that ring a bell?” I snap in a tone far more bitchy than I expect.
His silence is unnerving, and his stare is unwavering as he slowly shakes his head. “No. That’s not it. You’re hiding something.”
Clenching my jaw, I stay stubbornly quiet until he finally turns and walks back to where he set up his paints.
“So, take off all my clothes then? We can’t work in sections?” I query, trying to decide what he wants.
“No we can’t work in sections. You need to remove it all.”
“Can’t I leave my pants on until you are ready for that part?” I demand instantly.
One of his eyebrows goes up as he states very calmly, “No, Gemma, you know better. The piece is full nude—unless, of course, you aren’t brave enough. I don’t understand the problem. I have seen it all before.”
I curse my own insecurities. I’m not sure if I’m ready to be so vulnerable and so exposed to him again. I reach down, unbuckle my pants, and unzip them quickly, pushing them to the floor. I kick them to the side with a little more force than necessary.
“I suppose you need these off as well?” I question in a surly tone.
Phillipe looks at my fingers, which are touching the lace of my white panties. “Of course.”
I roll my eyes. It figures he would find a way to make me feel like I just asked a stupid question. Reaching down to the bottom of my shirt, I start to unbutton it, when I realize he is still standing there. He patiently watches me with intense eyes, pulling his lips into a pensive line.
I raise my eyes to his and decide to try and lighten the mood by joking. “So, I’m just supposed to bare my soul to you?”
In the blink of an eye, he darkens the moment. “Well, you’re asking me to bare mine.”
Contemplating his terse reply, I reach back to undo the clip of my bra. “That’s true in a sense, but what you are doing and what I am about to do are two completely different things.
His eyes have moved, focusing on my breasts and my arms, which are paused behind my back for the moment.
“Yet each of those two things requires an enormous amount of trust,” he reminds me.
I can see that he’s trying to teach me a lesson—something along the lines of, you blew my trust this morning by thinking I would hurt you, so take off your shirt, and maybe I’ll forgive you.
“So, Gemma, are you willing to trust me?”
I unhook the bra and slowly lower it, revealing my aching breasts to him. Moving my arm to the side, I drop the piece of lingerie on the floor.
“Yes, I am. Now, my question remains. Are you going to trust me?”
Courage ~
Tonight didn’t go very well.
My parents arrived at my uncle’s two nights ago. They had made a “special” trip in order to meet the man I had moved in with. They wanted to meet Phillipe, so we went over to Uncle Beau’s home.
I’m so annoyed right now because I feel like it has somehow put a wedge between us. He didn’t say much at all when we got home, and right now—well, I don’t even know where he is.
He left around ten minutes ago and told me he needed to go for a walk.
He’s never just left. I suppose this is our first fight. I keep reassuring myself that couples do that…right?
All I can think about is how upset he was.
“What do you want me to say, Chantel? That did not go well,” he told me.
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to make it sound the way it did.” I tried to reassure him as we made our way into the kitchen, but honestly, I knew that my parents weren’t being very welcoming.
“They accused me of brainwashing you, and you just stood there!”
“I did not!” I defended while I tried to convince myself that I didn’t.
“I hardly think ‘Mom, I wanted to go,’ was very convincing, especially after I just told them that I would look after you and I couldn’t help but want you close to me.” His voice trailed off as if defeated. “How could you let them make you question us, Chantel? They basically told you to leave, and when you said nothing—well, you might as well go and pack your bags.”
“Phillipe,” I pleaded.
He brushed by me. Suddenly, I felt more alone than I ever had before.
“Yes?”
“Don’t leave like this,” I begged. I hated that he was feeling this way, and I hated that I couldn’t express how I felt.
“I just need to be alone for a while. I’m going for a walk.” His voice softened as he asked me, “Will you be here when I get back?”
How could he think to question it? How had I made him question me?
“Of course. Where else would I go?”
I never received an answer. Instead, all I heard was the kitchen door as it slammed shut, making me jump where I stood. Why hadn’t I told my parents everything I felt? I didn’t understand my own reluctance and that annoyed me. Maybe it was because I didn’t want them to judge me—judge me like they had him. That didn’t seem fair.
It makes me wonder what kind of coward I am. I’m an adult. I’m a grown woman who found a man she loves. How dare they make me question that and how dare I let them make me.
I need to find him. I need to go and find him and bring him back.
Bring him back to me, to us, and to the world we belong in. I need him to come back and paint me as I am—strong, courageous, and brave.