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“There’s something I need to tell you. Before we get there,” she said, with a sense of hesitance in her voice.
He watched her face fall, and because he knew Amelie, he knew that whatever it was she was about to say, he wasn’t going to like it.
She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I’m sort of seeing someone. But… he’s totally cool with you coming here. He knows all about you. About our… history, I mean, and he’s fine with you and me.”
Jack deadpanned. “What? Well, I’m not fucking cool with it. Why the hell did you invite me here, anyway? If you’re with someone…?”
Amelie smirked as though he’d just said the silliest thing she had ever heard. “Everyone has multiple lovers here. And Mr. Serious… I invited you here because you’re my friend, and I missed you.”
God. She was hopeless. And that was it. Just like that, Jack decided then and there that he hated France. There would be other reasons he’d find later, but for now, he simply shifted in his seat and came to terms with his hatred. “So we’re friends now? Well, then, let me ask you something... Do you fuck all your friends the way you did me, back there?”
Amelie pulled the car off to the side of the road and turned to him. “Oh, Jack… Come on! I knew you weren’t going to like this… but seriously, can you please not make us both miserable? We have a week together. That’s seven days, Jack.” She brushed the back of her hand across his chin. Her way of testing how angry he was, he figured. “Can we please just make the most out of it?”
Jack thawed a little against his better judgment, but he wasn’t about to show it. He crossed his arms, sat back in the seat, shook his head, and set his jaw. “When in France.”
Amelie slapped his thigh. Hard. “That’s the spirit.”
“So when do I finally get to meet the lucky guy?” He glowered, staring straight ahead.
She looked over and grinned. “Oh, Mr. Harrison… what am I going to do with you?” She winked and raised an eyebrow. “And you’re so sure it’s a guy I speak of, huh?
Of course, it turned out to be a goddamned guy. Jack wasn’t that lucky, he assured himself. And not only was it a guy, it happened to be her fucking professor. Who, by the way, Jack wanted to strangle from the minute he’d laid eyes on him. For one thing, he was old. Sure, maybe he was talented and charming, according to what everyone else had to say, but whatever it was Amelie saw in him, Jack would never know. The other thing Jack didn’t understand was why the guy was so damned friendly. It seemed as though he didn’t have a care in the world. He was sleeping with Jack’s girl, so as far as Jack was concerned, he thought he should have a lot of cares.
During his visit, Amelie took great pride in parading Jack around town, showing him off to her friends. Most mornings, they stayed in bed making love. Their afternoons consisted of bike rides through the hills and impromptu picnics wherever it was they happened to end up. Sometimes they simply drove to places Amelie insisted he see. In the evenings, they usually walked the cobblestone streets, wandering. He filled her in on the happenings at The Harrison Group and ideas he had for bringing on new partners. He told her about Princeton and his classes. She told him of Vincent, (the professor), and all that she was learning about. She explained the in’s and out’s of photography. She taught him a few techniques she used with her newest camera and yelled at him, calling him by name, when he refused to take any of it seriously. Even when she was annoyed, Jack felt a lump lodge firmly in his throat every time she said his name.
At night, there were the endless dinner parties. French people ate dinner surprisingly late, and a single dinner lasted for hours and hours. On Jack’s third night, Amelie insisted they attend a dinner party thrown by the professor. Jack obliged but when he couldn’t hack it any longer, he excused himself to the garden where the longer he sat, the more he wondered just why in the hell he’d come here. She wasn’t coming home, he realized. Her life was here. His was there.
“Boo!” Amelie called as she practically tackled him from behind. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Jack turned and looked her up and down. She was so beautiful it hurt.
“What are you doing out here.”
He looked up at the midnight blue sky and sat down on the ledge. There were so many stars. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen so many stars. “It’s quiet out here.”
She laughed, though just barely, then sat down beside him, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “That it is.”
They sat in silence like that for a long while before Jack found the words he wanted to say. “I don’t think I should have come… In fact, the more I think about it, the more I really wish I hadn’t.”
Amelie raised her head from his shoulder and shifted her body to face him. She crossed her legs underneath her and stared at her lap. “Yeah, I kind of figured as much.”
“You’ve changed,” he said without a hint of malice in his voice.
She looked up and met his gaze. “Have I? In what way, would you say?”
Jack sighed. “I don’t know. You’re just different.”
“I really don’t know what to say,” she said and looked away.
“Why’d you come here? Why not come to the east coast like I’d asked. Or any other school back home?” Jack asked, though he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know or if he was simply trying to avoid any more silence between them.
Amelie inhaled. “This is where my dad came to study. I guess I just wanted to feel close to him somehow…”
Jack looked away, surprised and perhaps a little ashamed for hating a place so much that seemed so dear to her. “I hadn’t realized that.”
“Yeah. He came here to study poetry when he was around my age. It’s hard to explain… but being here… it’s almost as though I’m getting to know him in a way I might not otherwise. You know… considering.”
He softened then, reached for her hand, and took it in his. “So… tell me about him. What have you learned…?”
