Chapter 6 – Fersen
When I received the notice to renew my active duty military contract, I decided to let it lapse, wanting a change. Curious to explore working in private sector law, I contacted some law school friends in New York. A few months later, I moved to the city and started working as an associate at a large, established firm representing corporate executives and political leaders. It was somewhat similar to the military with its boys' club atmosphere, but different in the type of work that it entailed.
As a corporate lawyer, it was expected to address the social invitations of our clients and keep up potentially valuable relationships. Through my firm, I met both father and son Capet, accepting their invitation to play golf at their club in Connecticut. Louis Senior had asked about my father in Sweden.
The firm sent me to a cocktail party, using my father's connections to keep up appearances with some of our political clients. New York elite society was never without a fancy party on the radar. My personal interest was piqued when I ran into not one, but two beautiful women at last week's event.
Marie Capet. I had never met her until that night, but she was not, at all, what I expected from serious Louis Junior. More beguiling and charming than I expected. She had an upbeat personality and a coquettish demeanor. Louis had told me while golfing that his wife would be at the event that night and asked me to introduce myself.
I didn't anticipate running into First Lieutenant Francoise Jarjayes last week. Not the first time she had been a pleasant surprise. I didn't know she was out of the military, and from what I could find out through the grapevine, she left active duty due to special circumstances and was given a medical honorable discharge after two tours in Afghanistan. She looked as beautiful as I remembered her but her eyes looked different.
I fell hard for her back when we first met. I hadn't realized it until I had returned to my permanent station in Washington D.C. and couldn't get her out of my head. Francoise was different from other women I had dated. She was quite surly and reserved. I could see how people misinterpreted her as being cold, but the more I got to know her, I saw her as a caring and genuine person who wasn't great at expressing herself. She had opened up to me about growing up with the pressures of being her father's daughter and we had bonded over feeling the baggage of our family's expectations.
I admired her. Francoise was simply impressive – she was intelligent, strong, and confident. She didn't care what people thought about her, only following her north star. She was true to herself; she wasn't fake. She had potential in the military for sure, not just because of her father's connections, but by her natural capabilities. It also didn't hurt that she was an exceptionally beautiful woman with intoxicating hair. I held on to memories of her in bed. She looked incredibly sexy when she told me she was a virgin.
I wanted to see her again but told myself not to jump to conclusions; I had only known her for a short time and her deployment wouldn't be over for another nine months. We kept exchanging friendly emails, but when I didn't hear from her again, I assumed she met someone else. Someone like her was bound to have other men sniffing around, and we had never made any promises to each other. With life happening around me, I lost touch of where she was. Now that we were both living in New York, I wondered if I would run into her again. I casually mentioned to Louis if he knew anything about her, knowing Marie was friends with her.
Louis, being an honorable friend, mentioned that Francoise had been through a challenging ordeal but remained vague to avoid gossip. She was working as a police officer, which I was a little surprised by. With her military experience and rank, not to mention her family connections, I would have thought she would be an executive or a consultant for an influential company.
As I walked down the sidewalk after meeting a client in Lower Manhattan, a sign caught my eye and I recalled Louis mentioning the name of the gym Francoise went to. By pure chance, I saw a flash of blonde hair, seeing her walk inside. I impulsively ran across the street, getting a honk from a cab, and found myself following her. With my polished and practiced tone and looking professional with my suit and leather case, I told the front desk receptionist that I had to talk to a friend inside. I winked at her, as she blushed and allowed me to enter.
It was a nice gym with a large open floor plan with weights on one side of the main level; the other side had a small boxing ring with training accessories and punching bags in the vicinity. It smelled like rubber, iron and sweat. A large staircase brought me up to another level with cardio machines. I spotted Francoise warming up on a treadmill in the corner. She looked mildly surprised when I approached and waved a hand for her to remove her headphones.
-"Francoise, hey. I was randomly walking by and saw you. Thought I would come say hello."
-"Oh…hi." She slowed her treadmill pace to a standstill.
-"Hey, I know it's been a while, but I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink sometime. We can catch up."
-"I'm not really going out at the moment," she responded blankly.
-"One drink. I won't bite," I flashed a smile at her.
-"We barely know each other.
-"Come on, we're old friends," I insisted.
-"We had sex. Twice. That's it." Francoise was direct, but I didn't back down from her brashness.
-"Actually it was more than that. If you don't remember how many times I made you come, maybe I can remind you," I said smirking and leaned closer. But I soon saw it was mistake when she became visibly irritated.
-"That doesn't mean I owe you anything. I gotta go," she said flatly and left me, disappearing into the bathroom.
I was taken aback by her abruptness. Not wanting to give up, I decided to take a bold approach and signed up for one month at the gym on my way out. The young, blushing receptionist gave me promotional pricing. So the next time I saw Francoise, I was working out on the main floor. While warming up with a jump rope, she spotted me.
-"What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?" she said angrily.
-"What do you mean? I'm a member of this gym, just like you." I played innocent.
-"No, you're not. Cut the bullshit. This is my gym. You're just here because you think you're so charming and handsome and that eventually I'll go out with you."
-"I'm glad that you think I'm so charming and handsome," I said, pleased. I was clearly getting to her.
-"Ugh…whatever, stay out of my way," she said as she stormed off.
I watched stealthily, doing my weight training, while Francoise sparred with her boxing trainer. She looked sexy in her sports bra, training shorts and boxing shoes with her hair in a French braid, like a long rope hanging down the middle of her back. Sweat dripped down the side of her face and her wavy bangs stuck to her forehead as she attempted a lead hook to the body. When she took off her gloves and mouthguard at the end of her training session, she noticed me watching her and a flash of anger clouded her expression.
The next two times I saw her training, she glared at me each time. She was clearly an adept boxer and looked like she had been doing it for a while. She completed a jab and right hook combo sequence, her arm and back muscle flexing with the movement. Francoise was thin before but she had lost a little weight and had more muscle tone. She was always stunning, but there was something in how she carried herself now that was even more charismatic. There was a complete lack of inhibition and self-consciousness, no bashfulness at revealing her body. She had burns scars on her back.
As I finished a workout a couple weeks later, placing weights back on their proper rack, I wondered what the hell I was doing. Clearly, Francoise wasn't interested and I wasn't going to wait around for a woman who didn't want me. I was planning on letting the trial month membership run out, thinking about coming in early mornings to give her some space. I actually liked this gym better than my old one and was planning on enjoying the nice dressing rooms, the cedar sauna and steam room until I left.
Francoise, not knowing any of this, seemed to have hit a breaking point that day. When she made eye contact with me during her sparring session, she stopped and said a few words to her trainer. I saw the trainer give her a glove bump and walk away. Francoise indignantly stomped over to me, challenging me with her eyes.
-"Get in the ring," she barked.
-"What?"
-"You're breaking my concentration. Three minutes in the ring. If I win, you're gone. Understood?"
-"I'm not looking to fight you," I replied hesitantly.
"Come on, it's just sparring. Let's get this over with." Oscar walked away with a flourish and entered the ring threading herself through the ropes.
I wondered if I had miscalculated. She was more guarded than I had thought. Much of the softness and shyness that I remembered from before was long gone from her body and her demeanor. It was as if she traded in the softer aspects of herself for more physical and emotional armor.
Clearly, something had happened to her since our last meeting in Germany. I suspected that she had experienced things in Afghanistan. I had seen it with other veterans who served in conflict areas. She was angry, hurt and taking it out at the boxing gym. I realized that I had to play her game to get closer.
"Fine, you wanna do this? Let's fight," I said getting into the ring, putting on my gloves and protective headgear. I took a defensive stance. As I pondered how hard I should go about my hits, Francoise immediately landed a jab on my shoulder.
I wasn't great at boxing. In university, I had done a little bit of Muay Thai boxing that a friend got me into. The gloves were smaller in Muay Thai boxing and more varied attacks were permitted versus in traditional boxing, where the primary way to hit was through punching. I was still getting used to it, having only done three sessions with the trainer here as an introduction.
Francoise's speed was astonishing. She skillfully dodged most of my blows. I managed to land a right hook on her ribs that I half-heartedly threw.
-"Don't you dare go easy on me!" Francoise yelled at me through her mouthguard and she hit me with a jab cross.
Her rage was unleashed. She skillfully landed a right uppercut and left hook combo, and I was down on my ass in less than two minutes. She took a long look at me on the ground, her chest heaving with the exertion, as I sat up, my lip stinging. Francoise then left the ring while taking off her headgear and gloves.
-"Did you get what you wanted?" I called out as she turned to give me a final glance.
My chin and ego slightly bruised, I gathered my stuff, figuring there was nothing left to do but leave. Francoise was remarkably strong and tough, and I had to admit I was a little turned on by her intimidating presence. The challenging of cracking her was thrilling, but I didn't know if I should continue. Outside the gym, I recomposed my gym bag on the bench, bringing a hand to my face to tenderly scope out my bruised lip and chin. I felt a cold mass land on the bench next to me, a small wrapped bag of crushed ice.
-"You should ice that," Francoise said flatly pointing to my chin. She was wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up and a duffel bag hung from her shoulder. "See ya," she said, giving me a nod and walked off onto the city sidewalk. I thought I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. She was starting to thaw. I followed her hoodie with my eyes as she crossed the street and disappeared among the commuters heading home for the night.
-:-:-
At first, I helped Louis on his speeches for fun. But after spending a couple of hours bantering on communication strategy, he asked me to officially join his Senate campaign. Louis, after spending four years as representative in Congress was making the leap to become the next Senator, running as a moderate Republican. Taking a leave of absence from the law firm, I joined the Capet campaign as a communications director. I was late in joining the team, so all of my free time was spent living and breathing election politics, almost living at the campaign office in Midtown, coordinating with the staff at the Albany location.
Marie made frequent visits to the office, determined to support her husband and wanting to do everything she could to get him elected. She, herself, made countless appearances at events, touring the entire state of New York. She was bizarrely good at instantly connecting with strangers and the crowd loved her. It was as if she was born into life as a public figure. We used Marie as much as possible as she was boosting Louis' poll ratings.
Francoise never came to any events, but she would stop into the campaign office from time to time to have coffee with Marie. I was tempted to ask her out again when I saw her in police uniform the last time she came in. She looked like a walking fantasy, but I left her alone.
-"Hey. You practicing your right hook?"
I looked up and Francoise was standing by my desk. She wasn't in uniform today but still looked charming in her way, wearing a gray t-shirt tucked into jeans with combat boots. Her hair was wild and loose.
-"I think I'll leave the boxing to you. You're the one who's brilliant at it," I said, astounded to see her initiating the conversation.
-"You weren't that bad," she said. Francoise seemed softer today; she had something she wanted to talk about. "Hey…listen, the other day…I—"
-"Oscar, you're here! Let me show you these photos of me and Louis that my publicist commissioned…Oh, hey Hans, how's it going?" Marie hustled over, seeing that her friend had arrived. As she was being pulled away by Marie, Francoise looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with me.
I saw them leave together and got back to editing the press release that needed to go out in the morning. After finishing some other tasks and checking Louis's travel schedule for speaking engagements, I looked over at the clock. It was getting late and the office has quieted down significantly from its typical chaotic rhythm. Only a few campaign staff and volunteers remained.
As I organized some file folders and papers on my desk, I looked up and was surprised to see Francoise back in the office without Marie.
-"Hey, what are you doing here?" I called out.
-"Forgot my coat," she said approaching me while holding up her jacket.
-"Oh, okay… hey, you want some coffee?" I took a chance.
-"Do you have anything stronger?" she asked after a brief pause.
I smiled and pulled out a bottle of bourbon from my bottom drawer, a remnant from a donor. I went to the kitchenette to grab two clean glasses. When I got back, she had pulled a chair and sat down next to my desk.
We engaged in a light and superficial conversation while we drank. She asked me when I moved to New York and about my work at the law firm and the campaign. When I asked her questions, she gave short, non-committal statements. The rest of those in the office trickled out, and we were left alone in the quiet office, the fluorescent lights humming above us on the ceiling. Wanting to extend our time together, I thought of a way to ask her to get some food.
-"Wanna grab a—"
-"Do you wanna come back to my apartment?" Francoise interrupted and looked directly at me.
I didn't expect that. We took a cab to her place in the East Village. She barely had anything there, just some sparse furnishings and a bed. Nothing hung on the walls. I saw two framed photos on a shelf, the only personal touches in the apartment. One was of her family. The other was of two kids on a beach, one looked like Francoise and the other was a boy with shaggy black hair. She had some windows open despite a chilly spring evening.
While drinking beers in the kitchen, Francoise took the bottle from my hand, setting it down on the counter, and kissed me. The sex was different than the previous times we had been together. She wanted to be on top. She liked being in control and didn't relent in seeking her own pleasure. It was most arousing to see her like that. She had scars on her body that I didn't remember seeing before. After we were finished, she went to the bathroom and came back dressed in pajamas, stating that she had an early morning. I asked for her number before I left.
And that's how Francoise and I started sleeping together. She didn't seem to care about going out on dates or labeling what we were. I always initiated the times we got drinks or dinner out in public. In private was where Francoise really shined. Our sexual chemistry was unbelievable. It was hard to believe that the last time I had been with her, she was a virgin. Something had changed in her. It wasn't just about the amount of experience. She had a different attitude in her body and a certain look in her deep blue eyes when we were intimate, as if she was only living for that one moment. Things were starting to get a little more serious. At least, for me. My feelings for her from five years ago reignited. I stayed overnight a few times, and Francoise said that I could leave stuff at her apartment when I asked if she had a spare toothbrush.
One night after working on a policy opinion article with Louis, I decided to surprise her and show up at her place after she didn't respond to my text messages. Knowing the secret spot where she left her spare key, I let myself into her apartment with Chinese takeout. It was still somewhat early but seeing that her place was dark, I suspected that she had fallen asleep. I knew she worked erratic hours as a patrol officer and was working to become a detective. When I walked into the bedroom, she was curled up in the bed, looking so angelic, that I just let her sleep. I closed the windows that were open.
After having some sesame noodles in the kitchen, I placed the leftovers in the fridge, and got ready to go to sleep myself. Sliding into the bed, I nestled against her warmth and drifted off.
At dawn, I stirred, turning onto my back. I felt the sheets and blanket move suddenly and something hard collided with my cheek, a dull pain reverberating around my face. I opened my eyes and sat up in my groggy confusion and noticed Francoise swiftly get behind me, putting her right arm around me. In a flash, I realized this was not her being cute. She tucked her forearm under my chin and was squeezing my throat in a choke hold. I felt her leg swing in front of my hips from behind as she tried to tuck it under her other leg, preventing me from rotating my torso. Panic built inside me, as I felt the pressure increasing around my neck, desperately trying to grab her wrist behind my head before I lost consciousness. As soon as I got a decent grip, I was able to pull her elbow just enough to yell out her name. Francoise seemed to come out of her trance and immediately let go.
I gasped and coughed as oxygen filled my lungs again. She jumped out of the bed and look at me stunned and horrified in an oversized t-shirt, her expression wild and panicked.
-"Francoise, what the hell?!" I croaked, as I rubbed my neck.
-"What are you doing here?! I could have killed you!" she yelled.
-"I was gonna surprise you but you were asleep!" I gasped, caught my breath and continued, "I used your spare key."
-"What! Why didn't you wake me up?"
-"You looked so peaceful... I figured you should just sleep."
-"Oh… Fersen, I'm sorry. I just reacted! I'm not used to… I didn't know it was you…"
-"It's okay, I'm fine. Are you alright? What's going on?" I reached up to touch her cheek but she moved away.
-"I think you should go," Francoise said softly. The sun was just started to peek in through the windows casting a beam of light on the bed, an imaginary line dividing her from me.
-"I don't have to."
-"Fersen, why are you here? What do you want from me?"
-"What are you talking about? Francoise, I like you," I said, seriously confused as to what was going on.
-"If you're here for a carefree cool girl with no problems, that's not me, as you can probably tell."
-"That's not what I'm looking for. Come on… let's talk."
-"I think you should leave…please…"
-"Francoise…"
-"Get the fuck out!" She yelled, but looked as if she regretted her tone a little.
Hurt and confused, I searched her eyes and then gathered my stuff. I had no idea what just happened. Francoise had just attacked me in bed for some reason and then completely detached. She locked herself in the bathroom, so I left without saying goodbye.
I didn't know what to do, so I thought to ask Marie. Turns out Marie didn't even know Francoise and I were seeing each other. After her initial delight died down, I explained the situation and Marie's expression transformed. She explained that she didn't know everything but what she knew, she had heard from Emilie Jarjayes, Francoise's mother. I was shocked as I listened to Marie recount the reasons why Francoise came home two years ago, cutting her active duty short, and getting discharged from the Army. Held as a hostage by a group of rebels in Afghanistan for seven months until a dangerous extraction mission killed half her reconnaissance unit, she came back to New York and had to spend almost a full year in a rehabilitation facility. Marie patiently listened while I expressed my anguish and shock. She gave me a warm hug before leaving.
Absorbing this new information about Francoise, I honestly debated whether I should stay or bow out. It was a lot of pressure at the beginning of our relationship or whatever we were doing. Not that Francoise asked anything of me, but I wished that she had been the one to tell me her story. Her changed self and behavior made a lot of sense, and I could now understand that she had put up walls. Walls that protected herself but also kept others out. Kept me out.
A few days later, on my way home, I texted Francoise asking if we could talk. She replied that she would be home in an hour and to meet her there. When I arrived, I stopped her from trying to kiss me and claw at my clothes. Apparently she was content to go on with our typical arrangement without discussing what happened. I sat her down.
-"Francoise, I know." A flash of terror passed her eyes, which she stifled. "I know what happened…Marie told me, I forced her to."
-"Then she was very wrong! That's not her story to tell!" At hearing Marie's name mentioned, she got agitated. "What did she say?"
-"How you were held hostage…for how long…your injuries…how you lost some men…"
-"She had no right!" She was angry and got up from her seat. "I'm not talking about this with you."
-"Francoise, please, I care about you."
-"I don't wanna talk about this. You should leave."
-"It'll be good for you to talk about it."
-"Everyone keeps nagging and nagging! How many times do I have to say I don't wanna talk! Get out!" She was almost screaming now.
-"You don't have to right this second, but eventually it'll be good for you to let it out," I continued.
-"Fuck this. Then I'll leave." Francoise grabbed her keys and was looking around for her stuff.
I got up and hugged her from behind, desperate to get her to stay. I knew that as soon as she walked out the door, she would be lost to me and I didn't want to lose her yet. She struggled to get away, but I held on.
-"Let go! Let go of me!" She jerked around trying get out of my grip, kicking her legs and scratching whatever surface of my skin she could grab. "Fucking let go! Leave me alone!"
She kept struggling, but I was stronger and had the advantage this time. It was disturbing to see her so unhinged, but it served to show the depth of her misery.
-"Leave me alone!" she kicked my shin, tripping me and bringing us both down onto the rug. I kept holding her tightly. She screamed in her rage until she started to break down in my arms, her shrieks transforming into sobs. She went limp as she wept, tears streaming down her face and mucus running out her nose. My heart broke at seeing her contorted face so desperately angry and sad. I carried her to the couch and cradled her in my arms while she cried and periodically hit my chest with her fists in fits of frustration. I whispered to her that it was okay, that she was safe. I was there, gently stroking her hair.
It took a while for her to calm down and eventually she lost all her energy, her head collapsing on my chest. I carried her to the bed and tucked her in, staying with her until she fell asleep. Finding a phone number in the kitchen for her precinct, I left a message letting them know that she wouldn't be coming in the next day. I did the same for myself, calling the campaign manager at the office.
I ordered matzo ball soup from the Jewish deli and had it delivered to her apartment. When I heard her stirring in the room, I reheated it in a bowl. She didn't have a tray so I placed it on a cutting board and brought it inside the room. I sat her up and after making sure that she ate her soup, I ran a hot bath and ushered her to the bathroom. She seemed resigned to my care, like an obedient child. After her bath, she came out to the living room, wearing the pajamas I laid out, and hesitantly sat next to me.
-"I called in sick to your precinct. You should rest tomorrow," I said.
-"How did you…"
-"I found the number on your fridge."
-"Oh…thanks." We sat in silence for a few seconds. I felt like she had to be the one to initiate any conversation. I was emotionally worn out. "Fersen… can you stay?"
I felt relief hearing her ask something of me. Until that point, she had always done what she pleased, never requesting or expecting anything, never needing me.
When we got in bed, she turned to face me and scooted closer, curling up against my chest. A barrier had broken between us, maybe not all of them, but some. We held each other in bed, the same bed where she had almost choked me out due to her distorted sense of security. We fell asleep anticipating a new day, a new beginning.
-:-:-
Our relationship took a different tone. The extreme situations we experienced together accelerated everything between us, but I didn't mind because I wanted to be with her. I spent almost every single night at her apartment and our lovemaking became more tender and affectionate. Francoise still wasn't ready to fully talk about what happened to her, but I figured I would be here when she was. She was starting to accept me into her life and depend on me. I was happy when she asked if I wanted to join her and her parents for dinner. I met one of her sisters, Josephine, who lived in Brooklyn. I told her that I loved her while on a walk around the neighborhood, the pear trees blooming** above us.
It seemed like Francoise was getting better. But each time I thought we were making steps forward, there would be a step back. I held on to the limited pieces of vulnerability she reluctantly shared. I kept trying to get her to go back to talk therapy, but she refused. She didn't want to go back to that. Then I took a different approach and sought a veterans group, finding a female veteran and counselor who talked to other women. Francoise seemed more open and agreed to meet with her.
Upon that first meeting, I waited to hear details when she got home. She gave short answers and said it was okay. When I asked if she was going to meet her again, she said she would consider it, which I took as a huge success. But then another night that week after her patrol shift, she didn't come home until the early hours of the next morning, reeking of alcohol. I didn't press her as she slept in, leaving ibuprofen tablets and a glass of water on her nightstand.
Her mood swings were difficult. There would be days where she would smile so innocently at me, treating me with such sweetness, and then days where she would hardly look at me. But no matter her mood, Francoise was always a beast in the bedroom. She did anything and everything and would often squeeze me dry. Whatever I wanted sexually, I got it from her bedroom persona. There were no limits with her, and I relished every minute of that closeness. It wasn't the easiest relationship but we were working on it. We were good, stable most of the time. I loved her.
Work for the election was ramping up and all my spare time was spent at the campaign office or on tours or events with the Capets. Louis often had to go back and forth between campaign stops and Washington, as he was juggling other responsibilities at the Capitol, which usually left me and Marie to have dinner or drinks after an event. We became friends. I shared stories about Francoise and she would comment with memories of her in private school. Marie was an open book; she wasn't afraid of sharing how she felt. I admitted that I misjudged her when we first met, thinking she was just a trophy wife after noticing how beautiful she was. But she had significantly contributed to the campaign in valuable ways, brilliant with strategies of engaging with the public. I was unfair to underestimate her for her looks and having a cheerful and congenial personality, a stark contrast among serious New Yorker politicians, pundits, and journalists. Her bright attitude was infectious and gave morale boosts to the campaign staff and volunteers.
After a successful rally at a campaign stop in Rochester, I was helping move the audiovisual equipment with the event coordinator when I saw Louis and Marie having an agitated conversation near the SUV. Marie raised her voice and Louis quieted her down. Her expression was knotted, and gestures exasperated. Louis haphazardly embraced her, gave her a kiss on the forehead and walked away to answer a phone call. When I got into the car that would take us back to the hotel for the night, the campaign manager told me Louis was going straight back to Washington. Marie got in my car, looking resigned. It was rare to see her downcast. Wanting to cheer her up, I suggested we get dinner.
We went to a classic old-school steakhouse in the historic downtown. Marie promptly ordered gin martinis and proceeded to get drunk. She became more pensive with each drink, barely touching her food. I kept trying to get her eat. She ate a couple bites of her steak and then ate the entire bread basket. She made a dark and sarcastic joke about how her mother would have her stomach pumped with the amount of carbohydrates in her system. I had never seen this side of her before.
I helped her back to her hotel room, propping her up and partly carrying her sideways. Usually, she looked so put together, and I wasn't used to seeing her drooping in her Chanel suit, her usually coiffed blonde hair now loose and obscuring her face. After struggling to find her keycard, I was finally able to deposit her on the sofa in her hotel room and turn on a lamp. I brought her a glass of water, wondering if I should stay or leave her to rest.
-"Hans, do you have any regrets?" Marie inquired and took off her stilettos, letting them land with a thud on the rug.
-"Doesn't everyone from time to time?" I sat down next to her.
-"It's so strange. You can feel so strongly about something without really knowing why. I mean, I would do anything to protect my family, but sometimes I think about to what end? Do the ends justify the means?...Ha, I'm talking nonsense," she said as if she was transported to a different world. Her eyes looked gloomy in the dim lamplight.
-"Marie, is everything okay?" I asked and she remained quiet for a minute.
-"Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision marrying Louis. A life in the public eye, can't ever mess up. He was born into it so he's used to it. There are some things about it that I enjoy, but we'll never live a normal life… especially Teresa," Marie referenced her and Louis' daughter. "Sometimes I wonder if she'll be happier if I took her away somewhere no one knows us, where no one knows me… I'm sorry, Hans, this is too much. You never asked about this. I'm sorry, please forget I said anything." Marie smiled and massaged her temples.
-"I understand your question about the ends justifying the means… I sometimes worry that what I'm doing now might not get me what I want or where I want to be at the end… and would that be wasting my time?" I thought of Francoise as soon as this statement came out of my mouth. I hadn't admitted this to myself out loud, but it made perfect sense as soon as it came out.
-"And where do you want to be?" Marie inquired.
-"I don't want to be afraid to be myself and feel bad for the things I want. I want to feel free to express love and have it fully accepted and reciprocated." For some reason, these words spilled out of me, like they were on the tip of my tongue.
-"That's beautiful, Hans. I love that," she smiled. "Oscar's so lucky to have you…," she said quietly, not knowing how much my previous words had to do with her. I smiled at her sideways. Marie was sitting with her knees to her chest. She looked small and lost, and I felt myself wanting to comfort her.
-"Marie, I'm not sure what's going on, but I know you'll get through it. You're an amazing woman and mother. You're strong and everyone who underestimates you is a fool. You're going to be fine and whatever happens, I'll help you," I said genuinely, knowing that I was one of those fools to have underestimated her in the past.
-"Thank you, Hans, you're a good friend," Marie reached out and squeezed my hand.
At the touch of her hand, I felt an electrical shock vibrate throughout my body. Marie jumped a little and tried to pull her hand away, but I held it firmly. Did she feel it too? I looked up into her large blue eyes, two deep pools piercing my soul.
I slowly let go of her hand. I felt like I was holding my breath and my stomach felt weird. I may have had one too many martinis. Marie brought her hands to her chest. She was panting a little, her chest moving up and down. Her blonde hair was loose framing her face and I couldn't stop staring at her lips, which were pink and glistening. Before I consciously knew what was happening, I leaned in and brushed her soft lips with mine.
It stopped almost as soon as it started. I suddenly realized the wrongness of the whole situation and jerked away.
-"I'm so sorry, Marie…I don't know what got into me…
Marie looked at me, shocked, with her lips parted. Then her expression changed, and she charged my lips, hungrily kissing me as if it was her last night on earth. I felt as if a bright light was turned on, illumination shining on us, when I've only known darkness. Kissing her felt so different, her lips soft and melting on mine. I took her in my arms without stopping our kiss, and she fit perfectly as she climbed into my lap. I wasn't sure how long we were in that position, but as if coming out of a stupor, with great effort, I stopped Marie by gently pushing her shoulders away.
-"Wait…Marie, we shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong," I said with my lips still near hers.
-"This is the most right thing I've felt in a while," Marie said continuing to get close. After a couple more minutes of pure bliss where our lips and tongues met, I knew we had to stop before we did something else we would regret.
-"Marie, stop. We need to stop," I decisively moved her off of me and stood up from the couch. I had to get out of the room to prevent myself from doing anything else. "I'll say good night."
I turned and left the room without waiting for her reaction. A million thoughts and questions filled my brain as I went inside my hotel room. Was this a drunken mistake? Two people being vulnerable who got carried away?
I thought of the people affected by our actions, and then I was consumed in the recall of Marie's touch and kiss. Did I always feel something for her? Or did it develop in a span of a few months? Marie was drunk, and I hoped it was just a mistake. But if it was a mistake, why did the pull toward her feel this strong? It was almost as if our connection was decided for us.
-:-:-
I avoided Marie the next day and for the next few campaign events. She didn't approach me, so I figured we would move past our brief dalliance. I felt relief but then I noticed an underlying feeling: disappointment.
I found myself looking forward to each time I saw her, each campaign stop. Marie looked more beautiful with each event, but I preferred seeing her less put together. I thought about that night when her hair was messy and she was more raw. I admit I thought about her a few times when I was in bed with Francoise. I felt awful. I told myself it was just a stupid fantasy. She was married and I was working for her husband. Louis was my friend even.
At the next traveling campaign event, a week later, the staff and I got dinner at the hotel with Louis and Marie after the rally. Louis, of course, had to get back to Washington, so he left on his jet an hour later. People started trickling out until it was just me and Marie remaining. When I got up to leave, she asked if I would stay with her for another drink.
-"I'm sorry, Marie, but I don't think I should…"
-"Hans, what's going on? Are we okay? You won't even look at me…"
-"We shouldn't be…alone right now…It wouldn't be appropriate," I admitted smiling sadly at her.
-"…Do you feel it too?" Marie whispered.
-"Excuse me?" I thought I didn't hear her right. Did she just admit that she had feelings for me?
-"I wasn't sure if I really did, but seeing you day after day has confirmed it for me. Feeling in sync with someone who's not your husband hurts worse than not being in sync with your husband," she stated quietly and looked up at me with sad eyes.
Though troubled by the expression on her face, my chest soared when I heard what she said. I felt the same way, but I wasn't sure how I could express it further given our situation.
-"Marie, I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I feel, but what we did can't happen again. I think we should try to give ourselves some distance. I'll get Jen to work with you on your communications strategy."
-"But Hans…I don't want to stop working with you…"
-"We don't have a choice…this is the way it's supposed to be, right?'
-"Okay…you're right…we should stop," Marie said firmly, as if to convince herself of the plan.
-"I'll walk you back," I said as I gestured back to the hotel lobby.
We stood in silence in the elevator, not looking at each other, with the tension palpable in the air. I was starting to get hot and my heart was beating fast. On her floor, I said good night and held out a hand to give her a handshake. She took it gingerly. My stomach and chest leapt when our hands touched, and our eyes met. Our prolonged moment prompted the elevators doors to start closing, forcing me to fumble to keep the doors open long enough for Marie to step out. She looked at me until the doors closed to rise again to my floor. I sighed as I exited the elevator.
For the next month or so, Marie and I did what we promised and tried to stay away from each other. Jen filled in on her communications and marketing, managed her event schedule, and helped with the speech writing. The only times I saw Marie were at larger events with Louis that required the entire campaign staff and volunteers. I longed to see her, even from a distance. I had no idea what she had over me because these feelings were not going away. I was truly perplexed by her hold on me.
A month before the election, Marie told me she was pregnant with her second child on a rare moment alone together in the hallway of the campaign headquarters. My heart dropped at this news. She still hadn't told Louis yet, worried that he wouldn't be happy to hear the news with the timing of the election. She looked at me curiously, as if she had certain expectations. I didn't know what to say. Was this a test? I tried to hide my disappointment as I congratulated her with a big smile. I couldn't help but notice that she seemed deflated by my reaction. I gave her a hug, savoring the feel of her. I excused myself and left the campaign office, wandering aimlessly around the city for a couple hours.
The next day, I found a letter in my travel bag with Marie's handwriting. The content of the letter was short but held a lot of meaning:
Dear Hans,
I always felt like you understood me, so I hope you don't misinterpret this letter. Thank you for listening yesterday and congratulating me on the pregnancy. I'm so grateful for your friendship and will treasure the times we spent together. I always wondered if I knew what it truly felt like to be in love, and now I know. But I need to let it go now. Sending you all my best wishes for your happiness.
Sincerely, M
In my frustration, I had crumbled up the letter immediately after reading it. What the hell was this? A goodbye letter? She was writing as if we were going to the opposite ends of the earth, but perhaps that was exactly what was happening. I gently tried to de-crumble the letter and examined the words again. The paper had a hint of her perfume, and I brought it to my nose. Energy drained from my body.
She and I were impossible. Completely impossible. It would be social and political suicide. She would never leave her husband. He was about to become a Senator and she was a Capet. Marie Capet running off with a Swede, a former campaign staff of Louis Capet? It was a total joke and a good story. Our reputations would be destroyed in the press. She also had a child with him and another on the way; it wasn't just about us. What hope did we have? Would we have to yield to a life in the shadows?
Then there was Francoise. I still cared about her a lot. I didn't want to be doing this to her, thinking about another woman, a married woman at that. Also, her friend. I was being a complete asshole. We were good together. Even though she was still not fully letting me in, which made me feel uncertain about our future. But perhaps over time, she would. Francoise was one of the most beautiful women I ever laid eyes on. We looked good together. She was intelligent and passionate. She had a dark past, but she was trying to move forward. Her family approved of us when we met over dinner; she had said her parents were gushing. And my family, though they hadn't met her in person yet, was happy to know she was the last daughter of the Jarjayes in New York. We sounded good together. Francoise pulled me in with her sexuality and strength, and we burned for each other in bed. We felt good together.
But for some reason, I kept thinking about Marie. She was the one who bewitched my body and soul; it wasn't rational. I hated comparing them in my mind. Was it possible to care about two women at the same time? Marie's pregnancy was the final nail on the coffin of whatever was going on with us. I desperately wanted to forget her.
I went on another aimless walk that evening, abandoning my duties at the campaign office. The nights were getting longer and temperature cooler, the pear trees starting to drop their leaves. After getting my head straight, I was determined to make my relationship with Francoise work. I texted her that I was coming over. I made love to her multiple times that night. We were laying askew on her bed, catching our breaths, when she rolled over onto her stomach, peering at me. Then Francoise dropped a bomb from which we could never go back.
-"Marry me," she said. I thought I didn't hear her right.
-"Ha ha, very funny," I replied with my eyes still closed.
-"I'm not kidding." She looked deadpan, as I sat up on the bed and examined her.
-"You're being serious right now?" I probed again.
-"I don't want this to end. I'm serious…" Francoise had a pensive look on her face. "We don't know what life has in store. If anyone knows this, it's me…Who knows what's coming? Fersen…what we have is good. Love me, marry me."
I took this as a sign. Yes, this was the path forward and the right thing to do. I loved her, didn't I? I said yes and joked about where the ring was. I grabbed Francoise and pulled her to me in the bed, covering her face with kisses while she laughed.
We were good together. We looked good together. We sounded good together. We felt good together. I was determined for us to be happy.
-:-:-
Not wanting a big society event and Francoise not caring about planning a wedding at all, we quietly got married at city hall two weeks before the election. Because of the rushed timing, only Reynier and Emilie, Francoise's parents, were present. My parents sent their love and congratulations and made us promise to organize a larger reception in the future. We postponed our honeymoon until after the election. As a wedding gift, Francoise's parents generously bought us an apartment in Gramercy Park. Francoise had rolled her eyes when we found out it was the penthouse, no less.
Louis and Marie sent us a valuable Richard Diebenkorn painting as a combination wedding and housewarming gift. I studied the accompanying card, staring at Marie's signature as if it had a secret message. Surprisingly, Louis asked me if I wanted to be his Chief of Staff if he won the election, passing over the campaign manager who typically would be up for the role. He said he preferred a friend to be the closest associate to him, someone he could trust. Chief of staff was big. It was such a great opportunity that I immediately said yes, without thinking of the ramifications. This would mean that I would be intimately tied to both Capets, constantly in their orbit.
Louis had won the election with good margins, becoming the next junior Senator of New York, and Chief of staff was mine. I rented an apartment near the Capitol where I could stay when I was in Washington, leaving Francoise alone in New York. I knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and we discussed the arrangement so that I would be able to come home every other weekend and for longer stretches whenever I could. Francoise was also recently elevated to a detective, so we both accepted that our focus would be on our careers for the time being.
About a year into the marriage, our communication started to wane. At first, we talked every night, occasionally having phone sex over FaceTime, but then the emotional distance between us started to mimic the actual physical distance. I tried to pinpoint exactly where we went wrong, when we both stopped prioritizing each other.
The cracks between us started to become more noticeable on a recent visit in New York. I was looking forward to being home for the next few days. When I arrived, the apartment was empty. From what I recalled from Francoise's work schedule, I thought we would be able to spend the evening together. I called her at 9pm to see where she was at. Her phone went immediately to voicemail, and she didn't answer my texts. I poured myself a vodka and waited for her to come home. By midnight, I was fuming and went to bed. I heard the door close at 3am and turned over in bed. I caught Francoise sneaking into the bedroom when I turned on the nightstand lamp.
-"Where the hell were you?"
-"Oh hey, I thought you were asleep. I got a drink with Alain," she said.
-"It's 3 in the morning."
-"So?"
-"So what the hell are you doing out this late?!" I started to get agitated with her nonchalant response.
-"Our work ended late. It's not a big deal," she said as she took off her shirt and put on pajama pants.
-"I told you I was going to be home tonight."
-"I know...I'm sorry, I forgot. It's been stressful at work. We're trying to close out a homicide case."
-"Well, you should have told me you were going to be late. You didn't pick up my calls," I retorted.
-"You're the one who's never here."
-"Goddamn it! Francoise, you know I'm working in Washington!" I was done being reasonable. She was pissing me off.
-"I'm working too! Excuse me for unwinding and having a drink with my field partner!" Francoise barked back.
-"Who is this guy? Do you guys have a thing?"
-"Oh my god, what are you talking about? He's my partner."
-"You go out with him a lot. He must be really good company," I said sarcastically.
-"Okay, calm down. You're being ridiculous," Francoise said as she picked up her clothes off the floor.
-"Are you fucking him? Yes or no?" She let out a laugh, infuriating me, and started walking away. I grabbed her arm more brutally than I expected. The clothes fell to the floor.
-"Fersen, let go." She tugged her arm. "Seriously, fucking let go of me."
When I didn't move, she swung her other arm and slapped me across the face. The fierce look in her eyes coupled with the fact that she was half naked, the hot pain on my cheek, and the intensity of the moment brought out an unexpected response. I forcibly pulled her toward me and kissed her full on the mouth. She resisted for a second and tried to push me away. My hand moved across her body, tucking it down her pants to greedily grab her ass, my fingers finally settled in between her legs touching her in the way that she likes. She stopped resisting and gave into her desire, closing her eyes. Sighing deliciously, she wrapped her arms around my neck. We tore at each other's clothes and soon after, I turned her over, and penetrated her from behind. She let out a moan as I sought pleasure inside her, pulling her hair and biting her neck and shoulder, my hand wrapping around to touch her breasts. When I frantically finished, I kissed the back of her neck like I normally did. She was quiet and catching her breath. Francoise slowly climbed out from under me and got in the shower without saying a word. I fell asleep before she got out of the bathroom.
The next morning, I decided to travel back to the Capitol, getting up early, careful not to wake her on the other side of the bed. I left a note on the kitchen counter saying that I would call her and left the apartment, hailing a cab to take me to the airport. We didn't talk for the next three days.
I had to accept that my relationship with Francoise would never be what I wanted it to be. She always kept me on my toes, never really communicating what she thought and felt. At first, it had been thrilling but now I was exhausted and hurt by her constant withholding. We were using sex as a stand-in for real intimacy. We were starting to become more frantic and uncontrollable in bed. I felt distant even while inside her, feeling shameful and empty after releasing knowing that we were still the same two people with the same old failings.
I threw myself into my work, directing staff to work on Louis' responses to future policies on the Senate calendar and hounding down journalists for opinion pieces on military spending. I started to become more ruthless and it was paying off.
At a press cocktail event several weeks later, I noticed Marie walking in with her accompanying security. She greeted those who came up to her. She had become more of a celebrity in recent years, having captivated the public as she and Louis became more popular. The modern Republican version of John and Jackie Kennedy. The hashtag #QueenMarie came online after a photo of her went viral when she and Louis were received at the Buckingham Palace for a state dinner.
Having given up taking any sort of moral high ground and a few beers in, I studied her weaving through the party. She looked radiant. Without taking my eyes off of her, I tracked her as I moved through the venue, never losing sight of her. I saw her notice me while in conversation with a New York Times White House correspondent. As I changed locations, she periodically looked over, making eye contact while still in conversation. I said goodbye to my staff, telling them that they should stay and enjoy the free booze.
I exited the party, waiting to cross the street when a black SUV pulled up. The black shiny exterior caught the reflection of the Capitol building in the distance. The door opened and I saw Marie's face in the backseat. Her eyes asked a question, and after a brief moment, I simply answered by climbing in next to her. I was done being the good guy. The car started to move after I asked the driver to bring us to my apartment. I looked over at Marie, allowing my senses to fully breathe her in. She didn't turn away and gazed right back, her beautiful blue eyes longing. She moved her delicate hand to hit a button at her armrest, slowly raising the partition separating us from the driver.
Hello lovely readers! I hope you enjoyed Fersen's point of view in this chapter after he and Oscar meet again. I wanted to show his perspective, especially of this different Oscar and how he becomes involved with Louis and Marie. Some comments brought up the question of whether or not he and Oscar actually love each other. My theory is that when they first meet at the base, they are attracted, but because of the timing, they don't get a chance to fully explore their relationship. At this point, not love, as they don't know each other. After meeting again in NYC, they think they are falling in love when the relationship deepens, but it is not a sustainable and healthy love. Fersen is attracted to Oscar's beauty and sexuality, drawn to her passion and strength, and is excited by the thrill of the chase. And Oscar sees Fersen as a mask to her pain, but this doesn't work. I think both are using each other. Fersen, though initially intrigued by the uncertainty of Oscar's withholding, becomes frustrated as the relationship continues. Oscar behaves badly with Fersen and is not being fair to him. She is being self-centered and not communicating to others' and her detriment. Fersen's frustration and the complementary attraction to Marie creates an inevitable ticking bomb. He feels like Marie can be vulnerable with him in a way Oscar will never. I think Fersen is a man who likes feeling needed by others. I always thought he was a bit masochistic in the manga/anime because he always goes back to the Queen, knowingly doing things that will hurt himself. But he can't turn away.
**I wanted to highlight a note about the blooming pear trees when Fersen tells Oscar that he loves her. It's a silly detail but one I wanted to share with the reader. Indeed, pear trees are beautiful when they bloom in springtime (google if you don't have any in your area), but they also emit a weird smell, kind of like dirty diapers, when they bloom. Hahaha, what a metaphor for their relationship.
The next chapter, from Oscar's perspective, is up! It's short because this one is long. Enjoy two for the price of one! Feeeed meeee with your comments! I so appreciate them and your theories and thoughts. Forgive the delay in updating, as I've been traveling in Korea and Japan for two weeks and then catching up on life. It was fun to think about the characters while in Tokyo and imagine Riyoko Ikeda Sensei writing/drawing them…
Love and hugs!