CHAPTER 12
During the kiss, Gaston suddenly felt himself changing. His puny arms began to swell, developing rock-hard biceps and triceps. He felt a tingling in his scalp as long, thick black hair flowed out of it. His chest expanded, the muscles rippling impressively. He felt himself growing taller, his legs lengthening.
He staggered back, completely disoriented. He was momentarily dizzy as he saw the ground suddenly so far away. Then he heard Genevieve scream. He looked up sharply, blinking in surprise at the unaccustomed height of his new viewpoint. Confused, he looked down at her - down, not up, he realized in amazement. Her face mirrored the shock that he felt.
Gradually the truth began to dawn on him, filling him with unbelievable joy. Could it really be possible...?
He ran eagerly to her full-length mirror to check his reflection. There it was - his own beautiful face! He could have kissed it. "Look at me!" he said joyfully. "Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous?"
Genevieve was still in shock, her mind reeling. She watched in utter bewilderment as the tall stranger preened in front of her mirror.
Finally she found her voice. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Where's Gaston?"
"I'm Gaston!" he said, laughing in sheer relief. He picked her up and swung her around gleefully, not noticing the way she stiffened at his touch. "I've been under a magic spell all this time," he explained. "This is who I really am. Look! Look what I can do!" He grabbed a leg of the sofa and easily hoisted it over his head with one hand. Genevieve's eyes widened. "Aren't I amazing?"
It was so wonderful to feel that familiar sense of power again, to know that he could easily do anything he wished. He felt like he could move mountains. He wished he had his bow and arrows here right now - he couldn't wait to try out his marksmanship skills.
Genevieve was staring at him in disbelief, trying to absorb this impossible concept. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "How could you keep this a secret?"
"You wouldn't have believed me," he pointed out, putting the sofa down. He shook his head ruefully. "I tried telling other girls I was under a spell, and that if they loved me, I'd become tall and handsome. They just laughed."
Genevieve looked dismayed at the mention of "other girls," but Gaston was too wrapped up in his own happiness to notice. He sat down on the sofa with a sigh of relief, stretching out his long legs. "What a horrible experience! I can't believe it's really over. Can you imagine? Someone as unbelievably handsome as me, suddenly becoming so ugly? And then having to get someone to love me, looking like that? I'd just about given up hope until I met you."
Genevieve felt suddenly cold inside. "Yes," she said softly. "It must be very hard for anyone to love someone so ugly."
"That's for sure," agreed Gaston cheerfully, completely oblivious to the effect his words were having on her. He thought of all the pretty but cold and heartless girls who had sneered at him during his long quest, until he'd finally found his true love. He smiled affectionately at her, thinking how lucky he was to have found her.
She should hear all about how long and hard he had searched for her, he thought suddenly - how, out of all the women in France, she was the one girl special enough to see past his ugly appearance and love him for who he was. It was a wonderfully romantic story, just like a fairy tale - except that this time, the beautiful girls were the villains, and she was the kind, good princess who won the heart of the handsome hero. She'd like that, he thought.
"I must have tried to charm hundreds of girls over the years!" he began, leaning forward to tell her the story. "There was one girl, Celeste - she was beautiful, but all she cared about was money. I tried to win her over with jewelry and fancy dinners. She loved all the presents I bought her, and she even said she'd marry me. I thought that would do the trick for sure. But it didn't, because she didn't really love me."
He went on telling her about all the women who had spurned him as he sought to break the spell. Genevieve bit her lip, struggling to hide the pain in her heart. Every word he spoke felt like a dagger to her. He didn't care about her at all, she realized dismally. She was merely the latest in the endless parade of girls he'd wooed, hoping to end his curse.
What a fool she'd been, to actually believe that someone loved her - to think she would have her own happy ending. She should have known it was too good to be true. She thought of how joyful she'd been only the day before, flitting around her house like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. I will NOT cry in front of him, she thought fiercely.
"And then I met you--" Gaston was saying.
"--and you figured that someone like me wouldn't reject you," she finished in a bitter tone that went right over his head. Because no one else would want me.
"Right. You didn't turn me away just because of my looks. And you finally broke the spell!" he finished triumphantly. He couldn't stop smiling. He had finally changed back to his true magnificent self, and he was going to marry the most incredible, wonderful girl in the world. Life didn't get better than this.
He jumped up, too excited to sit still. He paced around the sitting room, eager and restless, his huge frame filling the small space.
"But I'm not sure how you broke the spell," he mused. "I had a magic hourglass - the Enchantress said it would mark the next 10 years. I had to find love before the sand ran out. But the hourglass broke last night. All the sand ran out. I didn't think I could break the spell after that."
Genevieve thought about it. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" she said. "You just said you had 10 years to break the spell, and the hourglass was marking the time. Breaking the hourglass didn't affect the spell. It just meant you wouldn't know exactly when your time was up."
"Oh," said Gaston. He didn't really get it, but it wasn't important. All that mattered was that he was himself again.
Then he finally noticed that she wasn't smiling. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Everything's fine now. This is the real me, don't you understand?"
"Oh, I understand. I understand everything," said Genevieve. Her voice sounded oddly flat. "You're not really a dwarf. You're really this...this he-man," she said, gesturing at his muscles. He grinned and flexed them, admiring himself in the mirror.
She went on, "You needed to get someone to love you to break the spell. But no girls would give you the time of day, looking like you did. So you picked me, a homely girl, because you figured I'd be desperate and wouldn't turn you down."
"Yes!" said Gaston, pleased that she grasped the situation. Then he saw her expression. "I mean, NO! I mean...well...at first it was like that," he admitted. "But now I really love you," he added quickly, to remind her of what mattered. After all, his first impression of her wasn't important, he thought dismissively; what was important was the way he felt now.
But to her, his declaration of love was unconvincing, a hasty afterthought to save face. She barely noticed it. She was too devastated at having her initial fear confirmed.
He had used her. He'd freely admitted it. That whole wonderful month they'd spent together...it was all a lie, she thought, her heart as heavy as lead. He had never loved her. He hadn't thought she was special. He had chosen her only because he thought she was so ugly and pathetic that she wouldn't refuse him.
Gaston looked at her in confusion, not knowing what was bothering her. "Come on, Gen," he urged, wanting her to share his happiness. "Don't you see how great this is? This is your lucky day! You thought you were marrying a puny dwarf. But instead, you get me!" He beamed proudly and lifted her kitchen table up in the air with one hand like it was a feather.
She didn't feel lucky. "So why did this Enchantress put a spell on you, anyway?"
He put the table down. "She said I was too conceited and selfish."
"Really?" said Genevieve dryly. "I can't imagine why."
"Oh, but I'm not like that now!" he reassured her. "I've changed, see?"
She didn't look convinced.
Gaston couldn't understand why she was upset. Her fiancé had changed from a repulsive dwarf to a handsome hunk. She should be thrilled. His brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle it out.
Then he remembered the way all the girls had idolized him before the curse. Suddenly he thought he understood.
"Oh, I get it! Now that I'm so incredibly gorgeous, you're worried that you're not good enough for me anymore!" he said, pleased that he'd figured it out. He smiled reassuringly. "But it's okay, really. It's true that I used to only want to marry the most beautiful girl in town. But now, I don't! I told you, I've changed. Even though I'm irresistibly handsome again, and all the girls will be swooning over me, I'm still going to marry you. So you don't have to worry at all." He smiled his dazzling, heart-stopping smile at her, confident that he had solved the problem.
Genevieve stared at him, feeling utterly humiliated. It was obvious to her that he thought she was ugly, and to his conceited mind, certainly not worthy of someone as magnificent as himself. But he pitied her, and since she had broken the spell for him, he was going to nobly keep his word and marry her, even though he clearly thought she wasn't "good enough" for him.
And then, satisfied that he'd fulfilled his obligation to her by marrying her, he would no doubt go off and indulge in all the "swooning girls" he'd bragged about. Just like my father, she thought, her heart breaking.
She stood there, so overcome with hurt and betrayal that she couldn't speak.
There was no way she would marry him now, she told herself firmly. She was not some charity case, to be married out of pity. She wasn't desperate, whatever he might think.
She looked at him, so smug and condescending, no doubt expecting her to fall at his feet in gratitude. She took a deep breath. "Get out. Now," she said coldly.
His smile faded. "What did I say?"
"Just go," she repeated firmly. "I never want to see you again."
He looked hurt. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy. I want to marry you."
"But I don't want to marry you," she said, trying to hide her pain. "Go home. Take your bulging muscles and your chiseled features somewhere else. I'm sure all the beautiful girls will be thrilled to have you back."
"Of course they will," he said. "But I don't want them. I want you."
"Well, you can't always have what you want," she said, pushing him out the door and slamming it.
Gaston stood outside, utterly bewildered. He couldn't understand what had just happened. This was supposed to be their happy-ever-after. What had gone wrong? Why was she so upset?
On the other side of the door, Genevieve was shaking. She couldn't believe this was happening. When he'd proposed, she had been happier than she had ever believed possible. But it was all a lie. The sweet, funny-looking dwarf she had loved didn't exist. There was just this handsome, conniving scoundrel who had coldly preyed on her emotions to get what he wanted.
Gaston was pounding on the door. "Genevieve, come on. This is ridiculous! You said you would marry me!"
Genevieve held her hands over her ears, wishing he would just go away and leave her to her grief. She didn't want to look at him or face him. But he wouldn't leave. He kept banging on the door, calling her name.
Finally she opened it. Gaston was relieved. "Come to your senses, have you?" he said, grinning.
"Yes," she said, her voice unnaturally calm. "I have come to my senses. I see everything very clearly now. And I am not going to marry you. I'm sure you're not used to hearing the word 'no' from women, but you're hearing it now. So please leave me alone." She closed the door.
Gaston was stunned. She was ending it? Just like that?
"But...but I love you," he whispered.
Just minutes earlier, he had been on top of the world. He had been so thrilled when she agreed to marry him, and then he had felt the unexpected joy of returning to his true self. For that one moment, his life had been as perfect as it could possibly be. How had he managed to completely destroy her love for him in less than five minutes?
He stared at the closed door in frustration. He knew he could break it down easily, now that he was himself again. But he didn't think she'd react too well to that. So he just stood there, not knowing what to do.
He thought back to the time Belle had turned down his proposal. Back then he had been outraged, and immediately started concocting plots to force her to marry him regardless of what she wanted. But he had no desire for such schemes now. He loved Genevieve. He wanted her to marry him because it was what she wanted, too. Because she loved him.
But...if she didn't love him...if she didn't want to marry him...then there was nothing he could do, he realized in dismay. He couldn't make her love him. He was powerless.
She had said "no." With that one tiny word, she was out of his life forever.
It was a terrible feeling, cold and hollow, like losing a part of himself. Like the day he'd been cursed.
He stood on the doorstep, unable to cope with the overwhelming sense of loss. She was the only woman he had ever truly cared about, the woman he wanted to share his life with.
But she didn't want him.
At last he straightened up and squared his shoulders. Fine, he thought defensively. He'd finally gotten his miracle, after all. He was Gaston again, the real Gaston. He would go back home and regain his rightful place in the world. And he would be surrounded by adoring girls who did want him. He didn't need Genevieve, he told himself.
But despite his bravado, he lingered on the doorstep a long time, unwilling to leave. He reached out and touched the door gently, as though willing it to open. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he turned and left.
Inside, Genevieve listened to the silence, and eventually dared to peek out the window. He was gone.
Good riddance, she thought, trying to ignore the sorrow that washed over her. He was a vile cad. She had been perfectly content before she met him, never expecting to have romance in her life. But he had tricked her into opening her heart to him, made her believe for the first time that someone could love her after all - that fairy tales could come true for her too. He had broken her heart, for his own selfish ends.
She remembered how he had boasted of all the beautiful girls who would swoon over him. Well, those girls can have him, she thought. She certainly didn't want a deceitful, egotistical man who thought she was beneath him, merely because of the way she looked.
And she most definitely was not going to end up like her mother, waiting forlornly at home by the window while her handsome husband was out carousing with other women, smug in the knowledge that he could seduce any girl with his heartthrob looks. Genevieve deserved better than that. She deserved a husband who would have eyes only for her. If she couldn't have that, she'd rather not marry at all.
She'd had a lucky escape. I'm glad he's gone, she told herself.
She refused to acknowledge the traitorous tears that rolled down her cheeks.