CHAPTER 15

In the days that followed, what struck Gaston most about the village wasn't how much it had changed, but how much it hadn't. During his absence, most of the people his age had gotten married and had babies; several new houses had been built; a few of the old-timers had died. But aside from that, the village seemed exactly the same as he had left it. There was the baker with his tray like always, the same old bread and rolls to sell. Life went on, every day like the one before.

The village was the same...but Gaston wasn't. He had assumed that once he was back home, his old life restored, he would quickly forget Genevieve. But instead, the opposite had occurred.

With each day that passed, he seemed to miss her more, an ache inside that wouldn't go away. Everything reminded him of her, and how much he wished she were here with him. Galloping at top speed on his stallion, Tristan, he suddenly recalled the last time he'd ridden a horse - that last day with Genevieve, the day he'd realized that he loved her. A wave of grief swept over him, taking all the pleasure out of the ride. Hunting in the forest and bringing down an enormous deer, he couldn't help but think how much more it would mean to have her beside him to share in his triumph, and how much he had once looked forward to bringing her the venison she loved so much.

Each night when he came home, he was struck afresh by the contrast between his own house and Genevieve's. His house was large, but strictly the home of a bachelor: the furniture was left over from his parents, and the only decorations were Gaston's hunting trophies. In the past, he had never thought much about his surroundings as long as he had a comfortable bed to sleep in, and he had always assumed that when he married, his future wife would take charge of ordering new furniture and decorating the place - that was the kind of thing women liked to do. In the meantime, the place was fine as it was, as far as he was concerned.

But now, when he returned to the empty house, he felt a pang, remembering how much he had loved being in Genevieve's little cottage. Her cheery yellow kitchen was always filled with the delicious aroma of baking, there was always a vase of colorful fresh flowers on the table, and he could hear the reassuring sound of her humming as she sat and sewed in the rocking chair, or rolled out pastry dough in the kitchen. In contrast, his large house in Molyneaux seemed too dark, too silent, too empty.

If she had married him and come back with him, he knew exactly what she would have done: scrubbed down the house from top to bottom, insisted that he give the rooms a fresh coat of paint, planted a garden of flowers, and started sewing bright curtains and tableclothes and bedspreads. Soon the house would have been as attractive and welcoming as her own. Her old dog would have taken up his usual spot in front of the fireplace. Then in time, there would have been children - six or seven of them - and Gaston would have brought home a couple of puppies for them. And before you knew it, the once-silent house would be filled with noise and laughter and family. It would have been a real home.

He knew he should just go ahead and marry one of the local girls - any one of them would be thrilled to be asked. Then he'd have someone to cook and clean for him, and he could have the large family he'd wanted. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. The idea of spending his whole life with one of those boring, shallow chatterboxes - pretty or not - revolted him. He missed her: the restfulness he'd felt in her company, like coming home after a stormy journey; the pleasure he had horseback riding and fishing and playing cards with her; their long, easy conversations, filled with laughter. In some way he couldn't articulate, she had completed him, filled an emptiness inside that he had never realized was there. With all his soul, he longed to have her back.

But he had learned the bitter lesson that - contrary to what he had always believed - he could not have everything he wanted. It tore him apart to know that he could never be with her again, but he struggled to accept it. He was not going to repeat the same mistake he had made with Belle, forcing himself on a girl who didn't want him.

One day, two weeks after his return, he was riding through the woods, thinking gloomily about it all, not paying attention to where he was going. Suddenly Tristan stopped.

Distracted, Gaston looked up. He dismounted and looked around, trying to get his bearings. A few yards away, he saw a huge wrought iron gate. On the other side of the gate was a long bridge spanning a deep chasm.

He groaned as he realized where he'd ended up. This was the entrance to the grounds of the castle where Belle lived with her prince.

It was the very last place he wanted to be. Aside from stirring up painful memories, he knew it was dangerous for him to be here. When the Beast's spell had been broken, Gaston had been disconcerted to discover that the monster he had captured and tormented was in reality a prince. Fearful of being put to death for threatening a member of the royal family, Gaston had shamelessly begged for his life. The prince had graciously pardoned him, but with the warning that he was not to come near him or Belle again. Under the circumstances, lurking right outside the castle gate was probably not the wisest move.

He was about to leave when he heard a horrified gasp. He turned. At the sight of the woman in front of him, he froze in his tracks.

It was Belle.

o o o o o o o o

Belle stared at Gaston in shock.

When Gaston had first been transformed by the Enchantress, Belle had watched in horror. Like her husband, she had no interest in revenge, and certainly did not wish for anyone to suffer, not even Gaston. If it had been up to her, she would never have chosen such a fate for him. But it was not her choice to make.

Yet at the same time, she could not help feeling relieved to know that this dangerous, evil man had been rendered harmless and could no longer threaten the people she loved. She had lived happily for the past five years with her adoring husband, and then their two children, feeling safe and secure.

But now, like a nightmare come to life, here he stood in front of her - the man who had vowed to possess her at all costs. He looked exactly as he had before, as though the past five years had never happened. She shuddered, remembering how he had tortured the Beast just to punish her, how he had smirked as he offered her his cruel, impossible choice: marry him, or watch her beloved die.

To see him so unexpectedly right in front of her home sent a chill through her. She knew all too well that he was not a forgiving person, and that he pursued revenge with a cold-hearted ruthlessness that filled her with dread.

For his part, Gaston was likewise at a loss for words. Once, a lifetime ago, he had wanted this girl more than anything in the world. Then he had hated her and blamed her for ruining his life. And now...? He didn't know what he felt.

He covered his confusion with a courtly bow. "Good afternoon, your highness," he said, remembering that she was a princess now. He took a step toward her.

Belle instinctively took a step backward, eyeing him warily.

Gaston stopped short. She was afraid of him, he realized. There was a time when that would have pleased him. Now it just made him feel ashamed.

This was the great Gaston's major achievement, he thought: to have harassed an innocent girl to the point that, five years later, she was spooked at the mere sight of him. Some hero, he thought in disgust.

"It's all right," he told her reassuringly.

"Is it?" Belle asked cautiously, uncertain whether to believe him. He wasn't acting threatening, she was relieved to see. She recalled that the Enchantress had said he would have to change his ways in order to break the spell. She wanted to believe it was true. But she was unsure, conflicted. She couldn't help remembering all the terrible, inhuman things he had done.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing her hesitation.

She stared at him in disbelief. "What's wrong?" she repeated. "You chained up the man I love, tortured him in front of me, and threatened to kill him if I didn't marry you! Or have you forgotten?"

Gaston shifted guiltily. He couldn't blame her for her reaction. To him, the Beast had been merely an obstacle standing in the way of Gaston getting what he wanted. But to Belle, he had been the person she loved most in the world.

Gaston tried to imagine how he would feel if someone hurt Genevieve like that. Instantly he knew that he would kill anyone who dared lay a finger on her. He was lucky Belle hadn't immediately summoned her guards to arrest him, he thought.

He looked at her, this woman who had had such a drastic impact on his life. In the past he had viewed her as a prize that was rightfully his, a trophy like the animal heads on his wall. But now he saw her as a person. A person who had done nothing wrong, other than love someone who wasn't him. It wasn't a crime, although he had once viewed it as one.

"I'm sorry, Belle," he said. "For everything."

She was startled. It was the last thing she had ever expected to hear from him. Gaston never apologized.

She looked at him searchingly. Now that she was over the initial shock, she could see that he seemed different. He didn't have that self-satisfied smirk that she had always despised, or the menacing air of violent rage just barely held in check. And there was a sadness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

She wouldn't have believed that someone as malevolent as Gaston could ever change...but then, on that awful night she had found her poor father locked in a dungeon, would she ever have dreamed that the monstrous Beast who had imprisoned him could change?

Everyone deserved a chance at forgiveness, she thought.

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Gaston," she said gently. "I appreciate you saying that." He nodded, feeling relieved.

There was a moment of silence. Then, in a warmer tone, Belle said, "So, you broke the spell. Congratulations." She had a kind heart, and since he had apologized, she wanted to show she bore no hard feelings.

"Thanks," said Gaston.

"So...who is she?" Belle asked curiously.

"Who?" asked Gaston.

"The girl!" said Belle. "The one who broke the spell. Do I know her?"

"No," he said, looking away. He didn't want to talk about it. "She lived far away."

"Oh," said Belle, interested. "So, she came back with you to Molyneaux? Does she like it here?"

"No. She didn't come with me," he said shortly. "It didn't work out."

Belle's smile vanished. She frowned, puzzled. "Didn't work out? How is that possible?"

Gaston shrugged, and retreated behind his usual bravado. "I know, it's hard to believe that any girl would turn down all this, isn't it?" he said flippantly, gesturing at his magnificent physique.

"But I don't understand," said Belle in confusion. "Only true love could break that spell. She had to love you, if you changed back."

Gaston wavered. He had not told anyone about Genevieve, and had not planned to. For the past two weeks, he had put on a brave face, trying not to think about her, bragging and showing off as he always had, and pretending that everything was back to normal. No one in the village had noticed anything wrong.

But Belle was looking at him with such warmth and kindness. Suddenly he couldn't hold it back anymore. His facade came crashing down, and the words spilled out of him. "It was all my fault," he said miserably. "She did love me, but she doesn't anymore. I ruined it. She's gone, and I'll never see her again. But I miss her so much, Belle."

Belle was surprised by his sudden outburst of emotion. He looked so forlorn, her heart went out to him. "What happened?" she asked sympathetically.

He sighed. "She said she loved me, and she would marry me. But then when I changed back, she was upset," he told her. "So I tried to explain it to her. But somehow, I said everything wrong. The more I talked, the more upset she got. And then she said she never wanted to see me again."

Belle could believe it. She remembered the incredibly tactless and off-putting way Gaston had proposed to her, believing all the while that he was being irresistibly charming. She could only imagine what he had said to this poor girl in his efforts to win her over.

But...he did love her. That much was obvious to Belle. He looked utterly heartbroken. And the girl must have loved him too, since he had transformed back to his true self. Belle felt a wave of sympathy for both of them. Love was so much more complicated in real life than in her fairy tales.

"Listen to me, Gaston," she said gently. "Her love for you was powerful enough to break a magic spell. Love like that doesn't just suddenly disappear. I'm sure she still has feelings for you."

His heart quickened. Was there a chance to win her back after all? "Do you think so?" he asked hopefully.

Belle nodded. "She's probably just having a hard time adjusting to the idea that you're not who she thought you were." She shook her head with a rueful smile. "I know what that's like. To fall in love with someone, exactly as he is, and then see him suddenly transform into a completely different person...it's a terrible shock, believe me. It takes some getting used to."

"What did your prince do about it?" Gaston wanted to know.

Belle thought about it. "He just made me see that he was still the same person inside - only his appearance had changed. And I think that's what you need to do. Go talk to her. Tell her you know it was a big shock for her when you changed, but reassure her that you're still the same man she fell in love with - you only look different. Tell her that your feelings for her are still the same, and you still love her, and that won't ever change."

Gaston nodded, trying to memorize every word she said. It sounded good, the way she said it. He didn't want to blow it this time.

He started to get excited. "I should get her a present, too," he said eagerly. "Maybe jewelry, or flowers...no, wait, I'll go hunting and get a deer for her! She said she likes venison--"

"No, Gaston," Belle interrupted, smiling. "Don't worry about all that. Just talk to her. More importantly: listen to her." She knew all too well that listening to others was not Gaston's strong point. "Ask her how she feels, why she's upset. And really listen to what she tells you. Then you'll know how to make it right."

Gaston remembered that when he had changed back, he hadn't seen at first that Genevieve wasn't happy. He still wasn't sure exactly what had upset her so much. Belle was right, he realized. He would have to pay more attention.

"I'll do it!" Gaston said. He began to feel enthusiastic and hopeful for the first time in weeks. Everything Belle said made perfect sense. He would get her back after all! He began to pace eagerly, his mind racing. "You're right, Belle. It can't fail! I'll talk to her, and I'll tell her everything you said, and then she'll love me again, just like before! And she'll come back here with me, and we'll get married, and everything will be perfect!" His eyes were shining with excitement.

Belle bit her lip worriedly. She put her hand on his arm. "Gaston...I can't guarantee how she'll react," she warned him gently. "People aren't always predictable, especially when it comes to love. You should definitely talk to her. But after that, if she still insists that she doesn't want to see you...well, then you do have to respect her wishes and leave her alone. You can't force her."

Gaston felt his heart sink at the thought. Belle was right, he realized. Genevieve could still say no. It might all be for nothing.

"But I do think you should try to talk to her first, before you give up hope," Belle added encouragingly. "Happily ever after doesn't just happen by itself, Gaston - you have to work at it. And it's not always easy."

"All right," he said, determined. "I'll try." He looked at her gratefully. She was much nicer than he had ever realized, he thought. "Thanks, Belle." He mounted his horse and turned back toward the village with a wave.

"Good luck!" Belle called, watching him go. She smiled as she went back through the gate to the castle, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.