Don't turn away
I need your love
'Cause you're the only one
That I've been dreaming of
Come hold me tight
I need your light
Just come and take me
To the place I long to be
Stay with me
Love is all I'm praying for
Stay with me
Give me strength to carry on
Stay with me
And hearts will surely
Find the way to go
Stay with me
Be my shelter
When the angels disappear.
Stay with me (Goran Karan)
As the sun began its descent, Gaston approached the hunting lodge, hesitating at the threshold. He knew what he had to do, yet the pain of it all was almost unbearable. But he couldn't back down now. To let go of Belle. To release her.
He had coerced her into marriage through manipulation and now it was his duty to make things right. He couldn't continue being a monster. He couldn't accept her love on credit. If Belle found happiness, perhaps he too could find some sort of contentment? Just a little bit?
Gaston blamed himself for the turmoil he felt. If only he hadn't tried to outsmart and capture Belle, maybe he wouldn't be standing there, clutching his chest where his heart raced feverishly. Perhaps, if they hadn't wed and been together this past month, it would have been easier for him to cope with Belle not being with him.
Quietly pushing open the door, he entered the house. "Belle?" he called out softly. She didn't answer, so he made his way to the living room. There, Belle lay asleep in front of the fireplace, her head resting on delicate hands. And there on the floor sat the ancient mirror.
Gaston reached out and touched Belle's cheek. She had cried again before sleeping. And that mirror… It was all too clear.
The hunter touched her shoulder to rouse her: "Belle! Belle!" She lifted her head, slowly opening her eyes, gazing into his face as she woke up. "Gaston?"
Gaston knelt before her, their faces at eye level, and without thinking, he embraced her around the waist. He meant to speak the right words he'd been pondering all day – about letting her go to her dream prince, about no longer holding her in a forced marriage. He wanted to say that Prince Adam loved her deeply, even though he remained silent. But instead, he felt pure horror as pathetic pleas spilled from his lips, reminiscent of Paulette's cries in the marketplace.
Holding Belle tighter, looking up at her, he whispered, "Belle, don't leave me! No one will love you like I do! I can't live without you, Belle!" Her beautiful eyes held concern, her soft lips slightly parted. Before she could respond, overcome by emotions, he blurted out, terrified of losing her, aching with longing, and disgusted with his own weakness: "Belle… If you leave me, I'll wander into the woods and shoot myself in the head. I can't live without you!" He buried his face in her lap, trying to remember the warmth of her body and the sensation of her presence beside him.
Feeling her slender hands tightly embracing him, stroking his head like a child, he sensed the strength in her delicate touch, heard her whispers: "Hush… Everything will be fine..."
Gradually coming to his senses, he unclasped his hold and tried to rise. Belle stood up with him, still enveloping him in a hug.
"No, I shouldn't have said that," he murmured softly. "You shouldn't have to hear those words. Belle, I wanted to tell you something else." Belle leaned back slightly, lowering her hands.
"But you spoke from the heart," she said quietly, looking around with concern. Swiftly, she darted to the rifle leaning against the wall near the door, grabbed it, stepped outside, and discharged it a few times into the air. Gaston followed her outside, colliding with her at the entrance as Belle emptied the gunpowder onto the ground.
"Belle, I just said that without meaning it seriously. I…" Raising her head, she looked him squarely in the eyes.
"You don't casually say such things," she stated firmly. Belle then seized the hunting knife from his belt, adeptly retreating to the kitchen cabinets, tossing it among the kitchen knives into a drawer, locking it securely. Placing the key in her apron pocket, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"This is amusing, Belle. I'm not that foolish. I just... You know, it was a momentary weakness of a strong man," he fell silent. "I want to talk to you," he gestured, taking a seat at the table and inviting her to join him.
She sat down beside him. "That's good. I also wish to talk to you, but you keep interrupting me," she shook her head. "I'll improve, I promise. And you, listen to me fully without interruption," he nodded.
"Fine," Belle said, looking at Gaston with her radiant brown eyes, taking his hand. Starting that important conversation became more difficult.
"What is this mirror?" he unexpectedly asked, nodding towards the mirror on the floor. "Did he give it to you?"
"It was a magical mirror," Belle replied partially. "It showed everything you asked for. I wanted to see where you were, to find you. But it stopped working. Became ordinary. Shows nothing now." Gaston frowned at the unexpected response. Search for him? Don't think of the prince or yearn for him? His prepared thoughts scattered, leaving him silently watching Belle.
"I met with him," he finally said softly. "With Prince Adam."
"With Prince Adam?" Belle asked in surprise.
"Yes. It's like you don't know his name," Gaston replied somewhat irritably.
"I didn't know his name," Belle turned away slightly, frowning and biting her lip, visibly nervous.
"Belle…" Gaston said softly, taking her small hand in his. "I... I feel very guilty towards you. If I hadn't pressured you into marriage, I swear, I would have fought for you. If there had been anything between us, if you had chosen me, if we had gone on dates... I don't know," he paused. "You can go to him," he finally said. "You are free from the promise I manipulated from you."
Belle blinked slowly, as if not understanding his words, then said, "I... I promised not to interrupt you, but I don't understand what you're trying to convey." She freed her hand, pacing around the room, too agitated to sit.
"Where am I supposed to go? Why should I go? You disappear halfway when I try to explain everything to you, then you want to send me away? For what reason? Unlike you, I didn't visit the castle or speak behind your back. How long must I torment myself over our less-than-perfect wedding? I'm not torturing myself over it; I forgave you long ago. I thought we were fine, and here you are constantly reverting back to that event,"
"No-no-no," Gaston rose as well, taking Belle's shoulders in his hands. "I'm not sending you away. Do you yourself not want to leave? Go to him?"
"No," her luminous eyes stared directly and resolutely.
The conversation wasn't following the pattern he had in his head, so Gaston faltered and fell silent.
"Don't want to?" he eventually spoke. "I release you from all promises, Belle... You should be with whoever you truly love. With Prince Adam."
It was truly difficult for him to utter those words, but Belle did not appreciate his intentions. She clutched her temples as if afflicted by a headache.
"You've been walking and walking, thinking and thinking, and you've decided to offer me another man? Are you out of your mind, Gaston?" she questioned.
"He suits you better. He... You know, Belle, I never quite measured up to you," Gaston attempted to relay his thoughts to her. Yet, what seemed polished and right in his mind lost its clarity when spoken to Belle, especially given her skeptical demeanor. Nevertheless, he pressed on. "I could never fully understand you. I fell short. It troubled me, but it's the truth. You... You had been at the castle. I was there as well. That setting... it was perfect for you. All so... elegant. No dirt, laundry, cooking. You'd live as you've always dreamed. Dancing in a beautiful hall, conversing with intelligent people. Not the simplistic folks like me and my friends. You've always seemed... above everyone in town, unlike anyone else. That life would suit you best. And most importantly... I don't know what transpired between you and the prince... But if you shared your favorite book with him, it means something."
Belle clapped back at his monologue and finally declared, "He suits me better. It doesn't work that way, Gaston. Let me find a woman who suits you better too? A charming giggle-faced lady with strong hips who will bear you six children and adore household chores?"
He shook his head, and the girl continued:
"But you chose me. A strange, unsociable girl with nothing but beauty. You chose a beautiful doll, immersed in a fantasy world."
"Why do you talk about yourself like that, Belle?" he wondered. "You are the best."
She moved closer and embraced him:
"I'm the best, but only in your eyes, Gaston. And you're the best in mine. Not just because of your looks or strength."