CHAPTER 16
Gaston thundered down the road on Tristan. He was almost at Reillanne now. He had ridden the horse hard for five days straight, impatient to see Genevieve as soon as possible. But now that he was almost there, he was suddenly nervous.
He mentally rehearsed everything he would say, all the explanations Belle had laid out so reasonably. This was the most important thing he would ever do in his life, and it had to be perfect. I know it was a big shock for you, seeing me suddenly change into a different person. It must have been upsetting. But it's only my appearance that changed. I'm still the exact same person inside. My feelings for you haven't changed. I still love you. And I know you must feel the same, because you were able to break the spell, so---
He realized suddenly that he was here. At her house. He dismounted and looked at the door, getting up his courage. It was now or never. He took a deep breath, and knocked.
She opened the door, and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Gaston immediately put his hand on the door so she couldn't close it. Talking quickly, he said, "I'm sorry, I know you don't want to see me, but I have to talk to you. It took me five days of travelling just to get here. Can I come in? Just for a few minutes?"
She nodded dumbly, still in shock at the sight of him. She stepped aside to let him in.
Gaston inwardly sighed with relief. At least she hadn't tried to slam the door in his face. He entered the house, but then just stood there, gazing at her. He knew he should launch into his pitch immediately, that he had only a few minutes to convince her. But for a moment, he couldn't speak. Just the sight of her, after thinking he would never see her again...
Genevieve stared back, trying to take in the unbelievable fact that he was actually here, right in front of her, when she had been certain he was gone forever. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he must hear it. He had travelled a long way to see her. Was there a chance...?
No!, she told herself almost desperately, trying to get a grip on herself. She reminded herself how he had used her, after wooing practically every girl in France to try to break the spell. It was foolish of her to be so glad to see him.
She could not allow herself to hope. Hope only led to heartbreak. She had to be strong and just listen calmly to whatever he had to say. It could be anything at all.
Oh, but the way he was looking at her... with such longing, like a starving man looking through a window at a banquet. It took her breath away. For the first time, she noticed that his eyes had not changed after the spell. He was tall and handsome and muscular, utterly unlike the dwarf she'd fallen in love with...but he had the same eyes. Gaston's eyes.
Gaston hastily tried to remember what he was supposed to say - all the good, sensible things Belle had told him, all the explanations he'd rehearsed. Every word had to be exactly right this time.
But seeing Genevieve, it all flew right out of his head. His mind was totally blank.
He felt a rush of panic. She was waiting for him to speak, and he couldn't remember anything. All he could do was just blurt out what he was feeling. But he knew, with a sinking heart, that it wouldn't be good enough. "Please don't be mad," he begged, the words rushing out. "I know you told me to leave you alone. And I tried, I really did. But Gen...God, I just miss you so much. All I can think about is you. I had to see you again."
She wanted so much to believe him, but she was filled with doubt. There were too many unanswered questions. "Gaston," she asked hesitantly, "if you feel that way....why did you say all those horrible things to me?"
"What horrible things?" He looked bewildered. He truly had no idea, she realized in astonishment.
"Well," she said slowly, hating to even say the words, "you said that you purposely courted me because you thought I was so ugly and desperate that I wouldn't turn you down." She looked up at him, and he could see the hurt in her soft grey eyes.
He had actually forgotten about that. It was so far from his current feelings about her. "Aww, Gen," he whispered, stricken at the thought that he had hurt her. He was worse than Etienne, he thought miserably. She knew Etienne was a bully - she expected cruelty from him. But she had trusted Gaston to be kind to her. Instead, he had wounded her more deeply than Etienne ever could.
He wanted to lie, to deny that he'd ever had any such dishonorable intentions, but he knew she wouldn't believe him. He had to tell her the truth - even though he knew it would probably destroy any last shred of love she had left for him.
He sighed. "Gen, I'm so sorry. It was just...I tried for years and years to break the curse, and it seemed hopeless. No girls would talk to me. I thought I'd be stuck that way forever. By the time I met you, I was desperate. I would have done anything to change back. And then I saw you, and..."
He took a deep breath, hating to say it, but knowing he had to. "Yes. I wasn't a good person. I thought that looking the way you did, you might be so lonely and eager for a man that you'd accept anyone, even a hideous dwarf. It was wrong of me. I'm sorry."
She nodded quickly, not looking at him. "Thank you for being honest with me," she said quietly. She sat down on the couch and looked down at her hands. "So it's true, then," she said desolately. "That whole month...you were just pretending to like me so I would break the spell."
He stared at her, horrified. "Is that what you think? That I was pretending all that time?"
She looked up sharply. "Isn't that what you said?"
"Oh, God, no," he said in dismay. "Why would I be here if I felt that way?" He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. "Listen to me. The first time I saw you, yes, I decided to court you because of the way you looked. But it was only the first time I saw you, I swear it. The next time we met - when I brought you the dresses, remember? That's when I started to get to know you, and I found out that you weren't at all what I'd thought you were. You were the most incredible girl I'd ever met."
"Really?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes," he said firmly. "I couldn't believe it. I mean, you're great at all the things girls do - you make beautiful dresses, and you're a wonderful cook. That dinner was delicious. But then, you also liked all the things I like!" His voice was full of wonder, as though it were an impossible phenomenon. "You liked horseback riding, and fishing, and hunting, and you beat me at poker - no one does that! I never knew there could be a girl like you. I had such a great time that night. I couldn't wait to see you again."
She smiled at the memory. "I had a wonderful time too."
Gaston sat down on the couch next to her. He was silent a moment, thinking. "But it was more than that, too. The way you treated me..." He trailed off, struggling to put his feelings into words. It was hard for him; he was no poet. But he needed to make her understand. "All my life, everyone always told me how wonderful I was, because I was so strong and handsome and able to do incredible things. I thought it would always be likt that. But then the Enchantress cursed me. Suddenly I wasn't special anymore. I was just a puny little dwarf, this ugly, pathetic joke--"
"You were never a joke," she interrupted, looking at him seriously. "Never. You were always amazing, even as a dwarf. I saw it the first time I met you. You have a...a fire about you, an energy I've never seen in anyone else. I thought, 'This man can accomplish anything he sets his mind to. Nothing will hold him back.' You're an extraordinary person, no matter what you look like. Don't ever think otherwise."
He looked at her, touched by her words. "That's what makes you so special. Other people laughed at me. They just saw an ugly dwarf. But you...you were different, Gen. It was like you saw something in me that no one else could."
"I know what you mean," she said softly, her eyes on his face. He had had the same effect on her. Other men had mocked her or ignored her, but he had made her feel beautiful.
"And then, the hourglass broke. I thought that sealed the spell - that I was trapped as a dwarf forever," Gaston went on. "It was horrible. I thought I'd lost everything, that I'd never be strong or handsome or do anything great ever again. I felt like my life was over.
"But then, Genevieve...then I thought of you." He looked into her eyes. "You didn't know about the curse. You didn't know I was ever anything but a ridiculous dwarf - but you loved me, even though I was so little and ugly and weak. And when I thought of you, suddenly nothing else mattered. I felt like I could handle anything, as long as I had you."
"Oh, Gaston," she whispered, moved.
"When I lost you...I didn't know what to do," Gaston said sadly. "So I went back home. I thought I'd be fine, that everything would go back to normal. I was strong and handsome again, and I had my life back, and everyone told me how wonderful I was, just like before. But it's not the same, Gen. I'm miserable. Every morning I wake up, and the first thing I think is, 'Genevieve's not here.' It's the worst feeling in the world. It's like dying inside. Nothing means anything without you. And I realized that as much as I hated being a dwarf, I was happier then. Because you loved me."
Genevieve gently touched his cheek. "I feel the same way," she admitted. "These last few weeks have been terrible. I've missed you so much. It was like there was a big emptiness where you used to be."
"Really?" he said in surprise. He had thought she hated him, that she was glad to be rid of him.
Genevieve nodded. "Oh, Gaston, I'm so sorry," she said remorsefully. "If I knew you felt that way, I never would have told you to leave. I thought you didn't care about me at all."
Gaston looked puzzled. "But you knew all this before, Gen," he protested. "I told you when I changed back."
She was confused. "No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did," he insisted. "Don't you remember? I told you all about how long and hard I had to search for you, how I tried to talk to so many girls over the years, but they all laughed at me because I was a dwarf. Out of all those girls, you were the only one special enough to see past my looks and love me for who I was inside. Remember?"
Slowly, realization dawned on her face. "That's what you were trying to say? When you were going on and on about all the hundreds and hundreds of other girls you wooed - that was your way of telling me I was special?"
"Well, of course," he said, looking puzzled. "What did you think?"
Despite herself, she started to laugh. She couldn't help it. Life with this man certainly was never going to be dull, she thought. "The way you said it this time sounded a lot better," she told him, smiling.
"It did?" He was thrilled. Maybe he was getting the hang of this after all. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Gen. I swear, I never meant to."
"I know you didn't," she said gently. She looked up at him apologetically. "I'm sorry too, Gaston. In my own way, I judged you on your looks too."
"What do you mean?" asked Gaston, puzzled.
She sighed. "I never told you this, but my father was handsome too. Not quite as handsome as you, but close. Women couldn't resist him. And he loved it. He didn't see any reason why he should give up other women, just because he was married. Everyone in town knew about it. He would often stay out all night, without even letting us know. My mother would sit by the window, waiting for him, looking so sad and alone. It hurt me to see it.
"And then he'd come breezing in the next morning, as though nothing had happened," she went on bitterly. "He'd always have flowers or candy for my mother, as though that made everything all right. And he'd always have some weak excuse about where he'd been - his horse threw a shoe, or he had to help out a friend. He knew she didn't believe it, but it allowed them both to save face. She'd say, 'Poor dear, what a rough night you must have had,' and make him breakfast. I know it broke her heart, but she never said anything. I think she was afraid he might leave her if she made a fuss. So she put up with it."
Genevieve looked into Gaston's eyes. "I always swore I'd never marry a man like that. But then, out of the blue, you changed. Suddenly you were this gorgeous hunk, even more handsome than my father. And it scared me. I guess I felt that a man that handsome couldn't be trusted. I'm sorry for thinking that way - it wasn't fair. Your looks don't dictate who you are, any more than mine do. It was hypocritical of me."
Gaston frowned slightly at the unfamiliar word. It must mean saying one thing but then doing the opposite, he decided. "That's all right," he assured her.
"Although I must say, you didn't exactly help matters by bragging about all the beautiful girls who would be swooning over you," Genevieve added sardonically, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you couldn't wait to take advantage of that. And then you said, 'But don't worry, I'm still going to marry you.' Like you thought I was some charity case, not good enough for you, and I should be grateful that you were lowering yourself to marry me, even though you could do so much better."
Gaston was staring at her incredulously. "Did I really sound like that?"
"Well, yes," she said truthfully.
Gaston sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He had made such a mess of things. "You know, I just shouldn't be allowed to talk. Ever."
She smiled affectionately at him. "I wouldn't go that far," she reassured him. "But tell me why you said those things. I'm guessing you didn't mean it the way it sounded."
Gaston ran his hand over his hair. "Of course not. No wonder you were so mad." He took a deep breath. "What I was trying to say was that breaking the spell didn't change anything. Now that I'm tall and strong and handsome, suddenly all the girls want me again. But it doesn't matter. I still love you, and I want to marry you, no matter how many other girls swoon over me. No other girl can compare to you. That's what I meant."
"Ah," she said, looking pleased. "I like that much better."
"Me too," he said, relieved that she wasn't mad anymore.
Genevieve was quiet a moment. "I can't believe I almost lost you over a silly misunderstanding. I was such a fool. I told you to leave, and you didn't even know why. If you hadn't come back..." She shivered at the thought of a lifetime without him.
"I had to come back," he told her. "I couldn't stay away from you."
She leaned against him, grateful for his solid, reassuring presence. "I promise that if I'm ever upset with you again, I'll tell you right away, and explain exactly why. So you can defend yourself," she added, her eyes twinkling.
"All right," he said, grinning. "And I promise not to say anything stupid again." Then he looked worried. "Except...I don't usually know when I'm saying something stupid." He thought about it, his brow creasing. Then he brightened. "I know!" he said triumphantly. "If I ever say anything stupid again, you can tell me, and I'll stop. Deal?"
She laughed. "Deal."
"So everything's all right now?" he asked hopefully.
A shadow crossed her face. "Well...yes," she said slowly. But there was a trace of anxiety in her voice. Previously, Gaston wouldn't have noticed it, but he was focusing on her now, and picked up on it.
"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning.
She hesitated. "Gaston, I know you're not like my father. You're a wonderful man, truly. But before you decide to marry me...well, just think, really think, about what you're giving up. You need to be absolutely sure."
"What I'm giving up?" Gaston repeated in confusion. "I don't get it."
"What you said about swooning girls...it's true, you know," Genevieve pointed out. "You can have any girl you want. Beautiful girls, girls who'll do anything for you. You really are gorgeous. And I'm not." She said it as a simple statement of fact, without coyness or self-pity. She had never been one for self-delusion. She always faced the truth unflinchingly, and she wasn't about to stop now, when the course of her life depended on it.
"This is me, Gaston," she told him seriously. "I'm not under a spell. I'm never going to turn into a fairy princess. This is who I am. And if you marry me, I am the only woman you will ever have for the rest of your life. Think about that."
Gaston saw pain and sorrow in her eyes. Suddenly her voice was harsh, full of loathing, but it was not directed at him. "Every morning when you wake up, and every night when you come home, you're going to be looking at this." She gestured at her scarred cheek. "Be honest with yourself, Gaston, for both of our sakes. You're only human. After a while, all those beautiful girls are going to start looking pretty tempting, don't you think?"
"No." His voice was firm, absolutely certain. "No, they won't." He cupped her face in his strong hands, tilting her up to look at him. She always seemed so strong and confident, but now her grey eyes were as vulnerable as a child's. It occurred to him that she was afraid to believe, afraid of being hurt.
"Listen to me, Genevieve. You need to know this, and you need to remember it." Gently he stroked her scarred flesh with his finger. "This is beautiful." He kissed the scar tenderly. "It's part of you, and that makes it beautiful. Because you're beautiful. Understand?"
She looked up at him, and her eyes filled with tears. Gaston was alarmed. He cursed himself. Idiot! He'd said the wrong thing. He always said the wrong thing. He'd made her cry. She deserved better than him. He took out his handkerchief and gently tried to dry her tears. "Genevieve, don't...I'm sorry. Please don't cry. Don't listen to anything I say, I'm just a big dope."
She took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "No, you're not." She smiled at him through her tears. "Sometimes you say just the right thing."
"Really?" he said, delighted.
"Really," she assured him.
He looked down into her face, his blue eyes serious. "It comes down to this, Gen: you're the only woman that I want. The only one I will ever want. Because out of all the women in the world, you are the best." He grinned. "And don't I deserve the best?" he pointed out.
She laughed. "Well, I can't argue with that logic!" she said, smiling. "All right. I guess I'll just have to accept the fact that I'm stuck marrying the handsomest, strongest, bravest, most wonderful man in the world," she teased. "It's a tough job, but someone has to do it."
He grinned, pleased at the compliment. "Well, don't you deserve the best, too?"
She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You're right! I do." She hugged him. "And that's you."
"Of course. Who else?" He stroked her hair.
She studied his face. "That really must have been some powerful spell. You look so different now."
"But good, right?" he said, preening.
She laughed. "Very good," she assured him. "In fact, I think I feel a swoon coming on right now."
He grinned. "I love you, Genevieve."
"I love you too," she said softly. He bent and kissed her. And at that moment, they were both thinking the same thought: I'm the luckiest person in the world.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That's ALMOST the end, but not quite! I'm just writing an epilogue about what happens when they go back to Molyneaux and Genevieve meets the villagers. So please stick with me for one last chapter, and then it really WILL be the end. Thanks!