Chapter 10

"As if the kinesthetic, aesthetic, artistic, psychological attraction you share could possibly be reduced to something as simple as gender."

I do not know any of the people mentioned passively, or otherwise. This is completely a work of fiction. FICTION.

That said, they sure are dreamy and would make quite a lovely power couple, no?

All errors and typos completely mine. This is self edited work.

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Évelyne bites her bottom lip in the stifling a cry way, as opposed to the preparing to kiss you way, and starts to speak. She speaks in waves, her voice rises and falls, her hands swirl in the air space between you, to the table, to your face, to her own eyes and back again. When she's this flustered she slips back into her accent. Not quite Delphine, but certainly not the Évelyne that works so so hard to stay present in the neutral middle American English they teach in acting school.

Time suspends while you memorize the details of the moment. She got dressed up for you, even though the restaurant did not require it. She's so nervous to be emotionally present with you, despite the intimacy you've already shared. You're equal parts thrilled and terrified by her passion as she speaks.

"I just wanted to know, Tatiana. I needed to know. I needed to know what you felt like. What we felt like. I needed to see and feel and taste all of the things people see in our work – that we only imagine in our heads. I needed the pretend to be real. It felt like I was faking it and I can't fake it. I can't fake anything. And the more time I spent with you. The more amazed I have been by your craft, by the artistry you pull out of me and this connection I just feel beside you and your spirit and your laugh and the way your little teeth get caught in your lips when you smile. I just couldn't bare it, Tatiana. I had to know."

"Like, some kind of method acting thing?" You shouldn't have said that. It was keenly insensitive.

"I guess, but it was more than that."

"Because I'm a girl." As if the kinesthetic, aesthetic, artistic, psychological attraction you share could possibly be reduced to something as simple as gender. Jesus Tat, just let her speak.

"Yes, because you're a woman. But no. I've had sex with women before Tatiana, it is not that. You're just different. I just feel so much for you, with you. Not knowing if it was in my head is scary."

The words stop, but she's wringing her hands on the table, unable to hold eye contact.

"I don't know what to say," is the best you can offer. Your heart is racing. Your palms are sweating. There are so many variables. Touches and kisses and darkness and the texture of hands on your body is one thing, but naming it is something else.

"What do you need me to say? Évelyne? What do you need?"

"I don't know, what I need. I needed to hold you. Wake up with you. For months now it has felt like something was drawing me to you and I could not ignore it. The thought of not seeing you over hiatus was… is…"

"Devastating."

You finish the statement for her because you know exactly what she means. The time she's scheduled to be filming in Europe feels like a punishment, like someone is taking away the sun.

She continues, calming some, and taking your hand back into her own. "Yes. Devastating."

Finally, she exhales, and smiles again. "I'm going to miss you. Like, a lot."

The server sees a pause in the intensity of your conversation and approaches the table. He presents your meals swiftly and gracefully retreats. The food looks like something out of a magazine and smells absolutely glorious. His timing couldn't be better.

"I'm going to miss you too, lady. You know that."

Évelyne smiles, softly, fusses with her napkin, lifts her fork, plays with her food in the plate. You're not quite sure where this is going, but you know that yesterday was a game changer, a tectonic shift, an unexpected curve ball that is obviously still spinning. Now looking at a plate full of rocket and shaved cheese, Tom's smile creeps into your mind. He's steady hand, hearty laugh. His beautiful mind. His humor. His hair. You haven't checked your phone in almost 48 hours and he must be worried. Actually he wouldn't be. You're solid like that. You don't have to talk every day and he knows where you are and who you're with. Yes, Tom knows where you are and who your with.

And you look across the table and there is this incredible human being. Radiant, visceral, tactile and full of fire. This utterly brilliant woman, who in two days' time has completely unraveled everything you thought you knew about what you want and what you need and what your body responds to in real time. Because in real time her hands on your body are more thrilling and resonant and profound than any intimate exchange you've ever had. This want, is a whole new world.

"But Tom," you say. To her. To your plate. To yourself. To him.

When she speaks again her voice is somehow lighter. More delicate and selective in her word choice, as if she rehearsed this part in her mind knowing the conversation would inevitably turn to the men in your lives. She says, "When I asked Tom if I could steal you away for the weekend- to say thank you for such a wonderful season- he didn't question my motives for a second. I mean this season in Toronto. It has been so good for me. So good for us, I think. I hope. You think so? I mean Tom totally seemed to understand. He was so generous, Tat. He's amazing."

"I know. He IS amazing. And I love him very much. But we're also actors Évelyne. We made a promise to each other a very long time ago that no matter what we're working on and who we have to "fuck" on camera, or who we might end up fucking off camera as a result, we will always be honest with each other, and always meet on the other side."

"Wow. He didn't tell me that. That's remarkable."

"It's not remarkable, so much as it is realistic. We've both been burned trying to stay in monogamous relationships in this business before."

"Understandable, I guess." You can see the wheels cranking behind her temples. She's trying to hard to embrace the selflessness of your relationship, the unimaginable amount of trust you must share. And you realize that must be why her last relationship ended. You make a choice to push her to say too much about herself. When she's ready to talk about her own beau, she will.

"Tom's last few projects have been a lot racier than ours, I assure you." You laugh at the thought of the bruises he'd come home with and the stories you'd listen to without jealousy really. He always came home, and treated you like a queen. Now the tables were turned and you can't help but wonder if his response will be as apathetic as yours, or if he had seen this coming. You certainly didn't, until you absolutely did.

Évelyne snaps you back to the present. "So really, your relationship is open to work-related, work respected, I don't know what to call it, it's not an affair, or a tryst, is it? Oh god."

"I would like to think it isn't research," you offer with a scoff.

"But it IS!" she replies. "It is! It is! Maybe that is why I just became consumed with the idea of knowing what it was like for Delphine to connect with Cosima on such a layered, emotional and physical and passionate way."

Finally the panic in her eyes vanishes and she smiles her fully dimpled beautiful smile.

"Research. This is research. We're working right now. Ha."

"Or maybe it's just because we're both so hot?"

With that Évelyne lifts a radish out of her salad plate and throws it right into your face.

"Yes that MUST be it" she says cackling, hands flailing adorably. "Can we please drink to that?"

"Of course!"

"To research!"

"To research."

You both finish your drinks on the decent and you quickly catch the server's eye to replenish your glasses.

Évelyne grabs your hand and squeezes, hard, her eyes full of relief and sparkle.