AN: Thank you so much to all reviewers. You guys are awesome. Keeping in mind the constructive criticism, and starting to edit previous chapters. Hopefully I'll have the time to post minor changes in the story at some point in time. Couldn't figure out a good title for this chapter, so if there's any suggestions, feel free to share.

Chapter 16. A Tangled Love Web

"Christian!" Toulouse ran in to see me typing away, a grin upon my face, and prints of Isabel's lips still upon my face. "It looks like things are going well between you and Isabel."

"Well enough…" I did not deny my joy with a grin. "When I am with her, I can write again. I cannot describe it, Toulouse. When she had left, I had no idea what to write. My words and thoughts just kept going back to her."

"It is great to see that you have moved on…"

"…moved on?" I stopped typing to stare at Toulouse.

"Yes," he nodded. "You cannot hold onto Satine forever, Christian. I am happy that you were able to start loving again."

"I still love Satine, Toulouse." I replied sternly. "No other woman can take her place."

"I did not ask for Isabel to take her place," Toulouse answered. "I only ask that you make a new place in your heart for her."

"I still love Satine." I repeated just as firmly.

"And there is no room for Isabel?" Toulouse questioned.

"I…" I ran a hand through my hair, a battle raging within me. "…it is not so simple, Toulouse. Isabel… she is about to be engaged to Duke Ambler."

"But she loves you!"

"I know," I sighed. "I know, Toulouse."

"Do you love her, Christian?"

I stood up at his question, setting my typewriter upon the stool, and moved to stand in front of the fireplace. Why could I not answer such a simple question?

"Do you?"

I had feelings for her. She made me forget the heartache and reminded me of what it was like to be loved. When I was not with her, I felt this emptiness that consumed me, only dissipating upon seeing her again. Was that love?

"I don't know," I squatted down so I was eye level with the fire.

"You are not even trying, Christian." Toulouse pouted. "Isabel has told me of your plans. How you are going to tell Ziddler that you are teaching her to sing. Would you put so much time on her behalf if you did not love her?"

"I need her in my life," I said more to the fire than Toulouse. "She makes me forget…"

"Forget what?" Toulouse laughed. "Satine? Ziddler? The Duke? The Moulin Rouge? If Isabel is your means of escaping whatever heartache you are feeling, Christian, then let her go. It is not fair for her."

"I can't let her go…" I lowered my head as silent tears stung my eyes.

"Why can you not admit that you love her?" Toulouse asked. "What is so hard in saying it? You want to be with her, Christian. You would not do such favors for a woman if you did not. Why are you denying her the love she needs? The love you need?"

"I cannot love," I choked. "I can never love again."

"And where have you been?" Cecille inquired when I ran through my bedroom door, my hair in as bad of a condition as my wrinkled gown. "It looks as if you had to wrestle your way through all of Paris to get back to the Moulin Rouge."

"I am sorry," I apologized, taking off my dress and slipping into a bedroom robe. "I was out singing. Taking voice lessons. It was nothing."

"Nothing?" Cecille stepped off of my cot and approached me, staring me straight in the eye. "You have never glowed this much before, Isabel. You cannot lie to me. Who is the man?"

"I cannot say…" I blushed, turning away to tend to my hair. "It is of no importance, I reassure you."

"It was the writer, was it not?"

My brush dropped to the floor at her mention of a man that I had not talked of for months.

"I deal with men, with love and passion, everyday of my life." Cecille walked over, picking up my brush and handing it to me. "I know these things, Isabel. I know the cautions of taking up a lover. Especially when you are about to be engaged. "

"You couldn't possibly understand…"

"Really?" Cecille crossed her arms. "Let me just guess. You were heartbroken after the writer snubbed you months ago. But heartache lasts only so long when you come across a handsome Duke who happens to love you for who you are. You are on the verge of being in love once again, but hesitate only because you hold onto the hopes of being rekindled once again with your writer. And, alas, your writer comes back for you, and you just leap into his open arms. Is that so far off?"

"There is more to the story…" I reminded myself.

"Are you so sure?" Cecille raised an eyebrow. "Isabel, dearest. I know men. It is all part of being a courtesan. Part of working for Ziddler in the Moulin Rouge. Gregory has promised you everything you could imagine. He loves you. He is waiting only for your consent to be married. You will never find a more providential opportunity ever again."

"I know," I tried to ignore her by brushing my hair to one side and running my fingers through my long locks.

"Your writer is one of a kind," Cecille remarked with a smile. "He might not have all of the gold in the world, but his words are just as rich and worth just as much as any amount of treasures. When you are with him, you could listen endlessly to his songs for you. His promises. He provides you not with the security of a fine house and luxurious meals and grand balls, but can only provide you with himself. Nothing else will be yours."

"What is so wrong with that?"

"I do not say this to hurt you, Isabel, but I say this because I do not want you to make the same mistake as I did." Cecille's words became serious and candid. "I know Gregory. I grew up with him. I am engaged to his cousin. I have seen how he looks at you. I would do anything in the world to have a man look at me the same way he looks at you. I have met your writer. I have met him numerous times before this night. Has he ever said that he loved you? Has he offered to spend his life with you?"

"He told me he loved melast night," I told my reflection, but I could see Cecille looking at me behind where I stood. "Everyday I love you more and more." (1)

"Do you even know his name?"

"No."

"Do you find that odd?" Cecille proceeded on when I failed to answer her. "I did. When I got back last night, I did some research on your writer. And you know what I found out, Isabel? That man… your writer… his name is Christian. Does that ring a bell?"

"Christian…" I closed my eyes, engraining his name within my head.

"He was the one in the story," Cecille said. "He is the man who fell in love with The Sparkling Diamond. He didn't tell you that, did he?"

"He needs me, Cecille. He needs me just as much as I need him."

"He does not love you," Cecille told me with a strong note in her voice. "He loves Satine."

"Satine…" I breathed the name, as I recalled him mentioning it once in the past.

"Yes," Cecille nodded. "Satine was The Sparkling Diamond, Isabel. Satine seduced Christian, and he fell in love with her. She fell in love with him. They are the characters of this love story that you have grown so infatuated with."

"Christian and Satine." I repeated the names to myself in monotone.

"Christian does not love you, Isabel." Cecille opened her arms, and I walked into them, hugging her tightly for support. "Gregory loves you. He loves you fully and unconditionally. Christian might seem like he might love you and need you, but he loves Satine. Do not fall for a man who is a slave to another woman, Isabel. It leads you only to loneliness and anguish. Do not turn away the best thing that will come into your life."

"Christian…" I cried, sobbing into Cecille's dress as her words settled in.

"I am sorry, Isabel." Cecille cooed. "I just do not want you to turn out like me."

"Gregory!" I lit up at the sight of him looking out of the window in Isabel's room, obviously waiting for her arrival. "Isabel is out right now. Lord only knows when she shall return. I have not had the delight to talk to you in so long!"

"Why are you here, Cecille?" Gregory turned his gaze upon me, and I blushed. "Edmund is searching for you. He will find you in time."

"I know he will," I agreed. "I do not love him, Gregory."

"Why did you agree to the engagement?" Gregory asked. "You had much opportunity to end this. Why did you lie to Edmund? To me? To everyone?"

"I thought that was what I was supposed to do," I replied. "I thought you were supposed to agree when men asked for your marriage. That was what my mother said. She told me to agree to whatever good things might come into your life."

"What changed your mind? You seemed so content before you left. You looked as if you could not be happier."

"You talked to me."

"It was me?"

"It was the night when my parents visited us," I reminded. "You and I had conversed about love. You were talking about how wonderful it was that I had found someone that I loved. You were saying how you wished that someday you might find a woman who would love you as I loved Edmund. It dawned upon me then that I did not love Edmund. That I had agreed to the marriage simply because I thought it was expected of me, and that everyone did such things. I was naïve. I did not think. I did not know how to bring up the matter to anyone. Did not wish to face anyone after that. So I fled."

"Was that it?" Gregory pressed for more, unconvinced. "You agreed to marry my cousin because you thought it was expected of you? And then you realized you did not love him and just left? It does not sound like you, Cecille. There is more to the story than you are willing to say, oui?"

"This is who I am now," I said firmly. "I am The Sparkling Diamond. I work for Ziddler. The Moulin Rouge is my home. This is the life I choose."

"You are better than this, Cecille."

"Why are you so bent on me marrying your cousin?" I began to cry in a fit of frustration. "He is nothing to me. Nothing!"

"I am not asking you to marry my cousin," Gregory grabbed my wrists to silence me. "I am only wondering where the wild lady I knew in my childhood went? You are far more reserved. Your aura has faded."

"Where is the young boy I watched grow up?" I whispered. "Where is the boy who would kiss me goodnight and cuddle with me whenever I felt lonely? Where is the boy who did everything he possibly could to not fit into the standards of society?"

"He is grown up and in love," Gregory hugged me in a way that would have my heart racing were it to be anything but in the brotherly intentions he did it with. "And, hopefully, soon to be married to the woman he loves. I am the same boy, Cecille. He is still there."

"You have changed so much," I cried. "I wish things could go to before I was engaged. Before I ran away and you were still chasing after that maid."

"Candace will always have a place in my heart, even if it was one of boyish affections, more naivete than seriousness." Gregory chuckled, pressing a tender kiss on my forehead. "How wonderful it might be to stay young forever, dear Cecille. But all must grow up. Fall in love. Be wed. I would not exchange an eternity of childhood for the feelings I share with Isabel. I hope that someday you shall feel the same. Then you will understand."

"It must be a splendid feeling…" I trailed off, my sobs silent yet the tears still falling.

"And one I know you will experience," Gregory released me, placing a last kiss upon my cheek. "Goodnight, Cecille. Remember I shall always try to be there for you, if ever you are feeling lonely."

Did he not realize I was lonely now?

1. Ewan McGregor & Nicole Kidman "Come What May"