Chapter 17

He was tapping his foot on the mahogany parquet floor like a woodpecker tapping the bark of a tree for food. Only he wasn't hungry despite sitting at a table in the Savoy hotel restaurant waiting for his companion. He was rather anxious. This was the first time he had asked a woman other than his wife to dine together. But he had gathered courage. Or rather, it was the loneliness he felt - especially after his fallout with Candy. It fell heavy on his heart, his shoulders, his chest. As if he had lived for the last few days at the bottom of the ocean. It could even feel it in the quietness of his room. Too quiet. That loneliness pushed him little by little.

He would just call her for dinner. Not anything formal. At the hotel restaurant. Not that he knew places in London anyway. He needed so much to speak to someone.

The raspiness in her voice hit his chest when she answered the phone. For a moment he lost his words. Just when she was about to hang up, he spoke. Apologised profusely for his inexcusable attitude the other night. Would she have minded having dinner with him at the Savoy? He was in such a desperate need for some company. For her company...although he kept this thought private.

"Archie...I do not think this is a ...", she had said in response. But he cut her before she had finished.

"Please!", he had almost cried on the phone and cringed immediately after. "Please Isabelle", he repeated in a much calmer tone, "Will you do me the honour of being my dinner companion?". There was silence from the other end of the line. Archie took a deep breath. His stare travelled in the distance, through a mist, beyond his suite window and was lost within the London skyline.

"I don't think I can face one more day alone"

So there he was, having stripped his reserved self over a phone call. Under other circumstances, he would have found such behaviour humiliating. London it seemed, had the power to change everyone. Even him. She had accepted and he was waiting. With his foot tapping to no end, measuring the scale of his nervousness. He touched his thigh, giving an end to his nervous tick. Straightened the tie on his corn blue shirt and smoothed the white linen jacket of his suit. Having had a haircut also, he felt much better than before. Concerning his emotions, he may have been in the dumps, but at least he looked decent. He was good at façades. Plenty of experience. Then he saw her, talking to the maître d'. With a rainbow coloured silk paisley scarf, tied over her hair like a hair band. Her appearance was modern and sleek, wearing long, dark grey high waisted trousers and a white shirt with rows of white pearls hanging around her elegant neck. Their eyes met in the distance. His heartbeat matched her walking towards the table. He got up just as she approached.

"You came", he said to her with an air of relief in his voice. She sat down, with mellow eyes and a reassuring smile on her face. "Did you worry I wouldn't?, she asked. He rested his eyes on her for a moment before lowering them down. Did not want her to see the embarrassment and strife casting their shadow on them.

"I wouldn't blame you if you left me hanging here, not showing up...I had been such an asshole that night...to you", he apologised. She put her hand over his. "Don't fret about it Archie...let's enjoy our dinner" she said. Her response made him lift his head up. His eyes were like dark seas when they met hers. "What do you say?", she added with a smile. Light slowly sipped back in his stare. "You are right...", he responded and returned her smile with an equally heartfelt one.

The tangerine coloured dusk sky above the city of London was mirroring inside Candy's eyes as she sat behind the wheel of her dainty car. Having spent those few days away from Christian, made her reflect on her relationship with him. Not an easy task by any means however. If her life and past experiences were a straight forward line, she would have been already at his home, apologising for her stand. For her inability to love him back, or her anger over his criticism of Terry's actions. Poor Christian. He hadn't even met Terry, nor was he there when her world collapsed. He did not know. Regardless of that, she flew off the handle. Did he deserve such a response? Fair as it was, he was entitled to his opinion. Or maybe, he came as close to a truth she had denied for more than a decade to see...making that young relationship with Terry into a myth. Locking her memories of him into a glass cabinet, putting them on a pedestal. Regarding them as something pure and unreachable, just for her to stare and reminisce. Meanwhile, the world was passing her by. Christian's love was doing the same. Passing her by. Eventually, that love too would go away.

It was a maze. Everything she felt for past and present, between Terry and Christian. To open her heart, it was as if she looked down a cliff, suffering the worst kind of vertigo. She found it frightening at the very least. The dizziness from loosing control of what could happen afterwards made her break in cold sweat. But she had missed him. She could admit as much. The time spent with him was as easy as the summer breeze over the plains of Indiana where she grew up. Carefree and soft, it caressed her face, made her heart swell with happiness. And then he was daring, and provocative. Those moments when he pushed her boundaries, desire was passing through her like electric current. Made her feel drunk with life. She wanted him. But he wanted more of her. He wanted all of her. Soul and body. Could she do that? She had not had the answer even when she knocked at his door but she had to see him. And he deserved an honest answer from her.

Time when one enjoys themselves is passing by quickly, everyone says. Archie could not believe where the time had gone, but it was close to two hours spent on that dinner of his with Isabelle when they lifted the napkins from their laps. Prompted by her suggestion, he refrained from the subject of his angry meltdown a few nights back and had kept the discussion light and entertaining. Isabelle was an equally funny and interesting partner in conversation. They chatted about his work, setting up the company, her dance studio, life in London, anecdotal stories about British life seeing through the eyes of foreigners. They laughed and they flirted while they enjoyed good food and the company of each other.

"I hope I don't sound inappropriately forward but...I do have a bottle of the most magnificent bourbon in my room...care for a nightcap?", he asked her. Her hazelnut eyes wandered on his face. His boyish good looks were radiant when he was content and relaxed, making him appear much younger than his age.

"Wouldn't mind for one", she replied with eyes that smiled.

Christian opened the door to find Rose standing behind it. She looked drawn and tired. He stood there, resisting the urge to open his arms and close them around her. After his first few and rebuffed attempts to make her see him, he had let her in peace. He had understood he had stepped over the line by a mile, when he offered his opinion on her previous love but that did not make him feel less betrayed over his feelings for her.

"May I come in?", she asked him, breaking the silence between them. He wasn't looking any better himself, she had noticed when he stepped aside to let her come inside. He was unshaven. The dark shadows under his eyes showed he was also sleep deprived. His place seemed more unkempt than ever before, with half made paintings everywhere she looked. She did not know it but Christian always escaped whatever fretfulness he kept inside by painting and he painted a lot over those days without her. In an almost obsessed way. But nothing he drew satisfied him. So he was chucking one canvas after the other away, starting anew.

She may had been unaware of the above, but she did sense his appearance as well as the state of his home were connected to their talk and her subsequent disappearance. For that, guilt spread inside her, clutching her heart tight. He hadn't deserved this, not this behaviour from her. She had acted like a spoilt princess. Tears welled up inside her eyes.

"I am sorry", she managed to say, and turned to see him, green waters rippling inside her eyes.

"Me too", he answered back.

They both seemed eager to say something as they drew a breath at the same time. Upon realising that, their lips curled up in a awkward smile. Someone had to start first.

"Please sit", he said to her. "I'll make us some tea, yes?", he added, giving her the excuse to gather her thoughts to say what she wanted to say. She thanked him. Christian being so thoughtful under all circumstances, did not escape her attention. He prepared the tea in silence, brought it over and pulled up a chair. Her eyes followed his movements and rested on his face when he sat down opposite her.

"Whatever I am about to say, please let me say it first and you can reply after", she begun to speak. He did not reply but he did not pull his eyes away from her stare either.

"Your words hurt me Christian...", she said. He took a deep breath as if he was going to protest about her statement. "Please let me go on...", she stopped him in his tracks. "But I realise that you are entitled to your opinion. I had no right to expect from you to be sympathetic". While she spoke, he was stirring on the chair. Was she trying to make him feel bad for what he had said to her? Despite the frustration she could see in him, she pressed on.

"I am also aware your words revealed truths to me". She paused waiting to see whether her last statement would cause a change in his attitude. And they did. Christian, indeed did not expect the last part. He took a deep breath and kept his gaze on her face when she continued her confession. "I have created a myth over my failed relationship, or rather a myth over the man I loved"

"It is much easier to imagine yourself as the princess locked up in the castle waiting for her knight, rather than getting out there, taking risks". Her voice was becoming bolder, the more she went on while his breathing became shallower. In the end, he was almost holding out breathing all together. For Rose to come to those conclusions, it was an enormous change.

"I do want to be honest, as honest I can get. I am very fond of you Christian. Swept over my feet. I missed everything about you, how you make me feel. But I had to think. And I realise I behaved like a spoilt child.". She kept pressing her hands over the warm tea cup while she spoke, with eyes glistening. Every word seemed to matter to her.

"Am I in love? I do not know...I might be...", she admitted and bit her lip as if trying to give it one last thought, to pull the answer from an invisible magic hat. She scrunched up her shoulders in her admittance of failing to give a clear answer. "Please give me time...to accept my feelings for you, for what they are, as I am too afraid to face them right now"

The surprise Christian felt inside and the swell of relief hit him like tidal waves. He could just jump and squeeze her in his arms tight and never let her go. "So you mean you may love me but you are too afraid to admit it...is that what you are telling me Rose?", he chose to ask her instead. He saw the worry in her eyes and immediately he realised it. If he ever had a chance for her to admit she loved him, he would have to leave her be. No more romantic confessions from his part. Or pushing her to open her heart. He could wait for as long as she needed to overcome her fear. Only the realisation from her part, that it was that particular fear which stopped her express stronger feelings for him, was a start. He stood up and knelt before her. Took her hands into hers.

"Love is too strong a word for you to say so I'm not saying it either...whatever you are feeling for me, I can wait until you say it to me without fear or hesitation", he said with a voice which did not quiver, wanting to reassure her as much as he could. "Know this only...I will let nothing to hurt you by my side Rose"

They were close, too close for him to not stop himself and take her lips with his, in the softest of kisses. As if exploring them for the first time. He had missed her. The way her body was responding in his arms, told him, she felt the same. Their kiss intensified as the days apart and the turmoil they both had gone through was melting away like winter snow under the rays of the spring sun.

"Make love to me Christian..." he heard her voice breathless caressing his ear. Without leaving her lips in peace, he took her in his arms and let her to the bedroom. She may not had admitted she loved him. In the end, he realised it didn't matter. As long as she was by his side.

Archie opened the door of his room for Isabelle to get in.

"My! So that is what a top suite on the Savoy looks like inside!", she exclaimed, turning to face Archie as soon as her eyes wandered around the impressive luxury of the suite's living room.

He let an embarrassed chuckle. "I hope you don't think I'm a show off", he said feeling the need to reassure her he wasn't one of the posh jerks who flaunted their wealth. "Oh, poppycock Archie! Stop second guessing my every reaction, will you?", she raised her voice.

"OK, OK", he replied with a laugh. "Guilty as charged", he added. He liked Isabelle so much, he found himself regressing to the time he was an awkward teenager, feeling his way with girls by throwing lame comments, being cheesy at best. Then came Annie and she was happy with anything he said. He sighed to her thought, making an effort not to let her sneak up in his mind now.

He poured two bourbons over ice and walked towards her. She was standing in front of the big windows, admiring the city spreading in all its bright lighted glory in front of her.

"What a view", she said as he offered her drink.

"Indeed", he concurred. "That's what Candy had said too"

To the sound of her name, he froze. He had spoken of her name, without thinking about it. She turned towards him with a questioning stare. "Candy?" He took a deep breath in.

"I meant Rose... my cousin... whose real name is Candy but don't ask me why she changed it...she has kept surprising me from the moment I set my foot here". The tone in his voice was bitter and he couldn't hide it. Isabelle chose not to comment. She turned and walked towards the big couch where she sat down. Took her shoes off and tucked her feet sideways under her hips. Her eyes were following Archie who for a moment, it was obvious, has his mind elsewhere.

He stopped and gazed at her. He liked how she was sitting on the couch. She was there and by the looks of it, quite fine in her skin, relaxed without any pretences or awkwardness. "Was I too extreme that night at the Cumparsita?", he finally asked her.

"Your reaction about your cousin you mean?", she returned his question with another one. He nodded with pressed lips. It was the first time in his life, he had fallen out so badly with Candy. Not in a million years, he would expect to stop talking to her for any reason. But that reason indeed had become real and it had happened. She had said things they cut to the bone. The most hard thing for him to swallow was they were true. He did feel jealous of Terry. He had had a crush on her, big one. And because of her plea all those years ago, he run into the rain that night at the college to find Annie, hiding away like a scared hurt bird, having found out he didn't really cared for her in the same way she did for him. Instead Candy was the one he was holding the torch for. Self-sacrificing as always, Candy. Regardless the fact she had fallen head over heels for that lunatic self-centred English aristocrat, even if he didn't exist, Candy would still send Archie over to Annie's rescue, denying him to show the affection he had felt for her.

"Are you willing to trust my judgement...when you have only met me a few days ago...over to Candy's judgement who you know your whole life?" . "I'm assuming you have already talked to her...", she added as she saw him remain silent. He didn't respond.

"Oh! You did and you fell out...quarrelled?". He turned his face away, squeezing the glass in his hand. It wasn't fair for Isabelle. He had started this conversation and now he was unable to respond. The memory of the whole incident nested still raw inside him. "That bad?!", she continued.

"I'm sorry...", she heard him say with a strained voice. Cursing inside for giving such a sour aftertaste to a great night, he decided to give an end to it. He had apologised too many times already and he wouldn't go on. Despite not wanting her to leave, it would be better to call her for a taxi. To do the right thing. After all as she said, they had met only a few days ago and he kept dragging her into his personal matters and his insecurities. She listened to him without saying anything. They walked towards the door. He opened it but they just stood there with their eyes fixed on each other. His stare glimmered like the open sea on a hot summer day. She reached up and gave him a quick kiss on his lips, which threw him off completely. Questions begun rushing in his eyes. She kept them inside hers, when she gave him an explanation.

"I want to see if I can break the wicked spell you are under", she whispered.

He didn't say anything. Just feeling the air rushing in and leaving his lungs, his heart beating all the more loud. Her scarlet red full lips looked impossible to resist. Without thinking he slammed the door shut, pinning her against it. He took her slender neck between his hands, his lips covered hers with the ferocity a lost man drinks water, fallen on his knees after wandering on the desert for all his life. He felt her hands clawing on his back, pulling his shirt up. Nothing could come between them. They moved blind towards the bedroom, knocking on things, clothes torn and thrown away as if being caught inside a tornado. Walls inside him were torn down, a life lived through a heartbeat so weak, it was close to a flat line, flashed through his eyes. He fell on his back. His whole world shrunk to just the woman who was straddling him, gyrating her hips on his cock. He groaned, his muscles tensed. He grabbed her ass and turned around, getting her under him. His blue eyes burned. She called his name, when her back arched with desire coursing through her body. He could feel her fingernails leaving their mark on his shoulders. All thoughts were snuffed out like a candle left next to an open window. Nothing and no one mattered, when they came to the end of the insanity that had descended upon their minds. He stopped and looked into her eyes, shining like gold in the soft bed lamp lights. She looked radiant, the most beautiful woman he had seen in his life and she was in his arms. He kissed her, taking his time now, tasting her mouth, feeling her lips soft brushing against his. He smelled vanilla and leather in her perfume. His kiss deepened while his hands started caressing her body, exploring it, learning its curves and lines. She crossed her legs over his hips, keeping him on top of her, while her hands dived in his hair.

"Stay with me...", he whispered in her ear, just before desire once again started slowly burning through their veins.

Bright sunlight rushed inside his bedroom through the half drawn curtains. He could feel the sun's warmth of his face. A sweet tiredness made his body feel almost paralysed. During the time, it took him to open his eyes, he realised what had happened the night before, and turned in an instant around to see whether he had dreamt it all. Isabelle was not there. Her pillow was still hollow where she had slept. It smelled of her. He hadn't dreamt anything. Not finding her there though, brought heaviness to his heart. Before deciding to get up, he noticed a piece of folded paper left by the bed side table. He opened it with a quickened heartbeat.

My darling Archie,

Please do not think of what happened between us last night as anything less than beautiful. I am glad the wicked spell was lifted off from your heart and I had some part in it. You are an amazing guy Archie and if I was to turn back the hands of time, again I would not be able to resist you. The same way I could not stop what was happening even if I knew it shouldn't happen. I don't know what you will think of me, but believe me when I say that last night's turn of events is not a habit of mine. Especially with men that are married. I sense you are still trying to find yourself in this world and what life means to you. I hope from my heart to find your answers. I will be thinking of you...

Je t'embrasse tendrement

Isabelle

PS. While I wrote you this note, your cousin came to mind. Perhaps now you can "see" how her heart "sees" her life.

He blinked a couple of times when he reached the end. The writing had become blurred. Passed his eyes over with the back of his hand. Would he go after her? This was something he had yet to decide. He read her letter a few more times while he was getting ready for work with his heart and mind not being there. Regardless of his state, there was at least one thing he had decided. It was about time to see Candy and apologise.