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It still hurt. That her father couldn’t admit that he’d been wrong. Still awkward and distant in his feelings, he couldn’t offer her the words of love and reassurance that she so desperately needed to hear. But if she wanted to be loved for who she was, she could hardly demand perfection from him. She too had to find love in imperfection, whether with her father, or herself. And that realisation had been the first step. In confronting the past she was so ashamed of. And in that bittersweet painful moment, she realised that she could no longer be bound by it. That she needed to live her life and stop hiding—as she had once accused Loukis of doing.
She poured the coffee into a mug and crossed the room of her Parisian apartment and curled up on her sofa, the phone still cradled between her shoulder and ear the way her hands now cradled the steaming cup of goodness.
‘It is,’ she said, finally answering Ella’s half-question.
‘Have you heard from him?’
Célia didn’t have the energy to muster ignorance as to whom Ella was referring. ‘No. But I didn’t expect to,’ she replied around the lump in her throat. ‘Anyway, tell me about your gorgeous little one. How is Tatiana?’
‘Teething.’
Célia groaned in sympathy. ‘And Roman?’
‘Loving everything about parenting. I’m lucky if I can get a look-in.’
‘I’m sure he’s just making up for the time he’s away with work.’
‘It’shimI can’t get a look-in with,’ Ella replied quickly with a beautiful laugh. ‘Tatiana only has eyes for him. For me, she has dirty nappies!’
Célia smiled, even as her heart broke. She’d have been lying to herself if she denied that she had hoped that perhaps her future could follow a similar path to her best friend’s and to one day find that same happiness with Loukis.
‘Are you sure you won’t come down to Puycalvel? Roman would send the jet in a heartbeat.’
‘That’s okay. Honestly. Yalena has returned the signed contracts and there is plenty of work to do now. It’s certainly enough to keep me busy.’
‘Life doesn’t have to be all work, you know,’ Ella chided, unconsciously cutting at Célia’s heart. Because work was all she felt she had left now.
‘Mmm-hmm,’ she mused, noncommittally.
Célia heard a mewl in the background. One that was beginning to become insistent. ‘You should go, Ella. I’ll be fine. Promise.’
As she disconnected the call and placed her phone down on the table, the sapphire ring glinted in the dim light of what was quickly becoming a very late evening. She twisted the ring with her thumb, not in the least ready to remove it. It meant too much to her. The moment when she had felt finallyseenby someone. Accepted. She threw her head back against the plush pillow resting against the arm of her sofa, growling at herself.
She had to let him go. She knew that. But she wouldn’t deny the things he had brought to her. Never would she have known the feeling of empowerment resulting from being desired for who she was. Never would she have approached such an incredible client as Yalena, found a sense of pride in her work through that relationship. Never would she have reached out to her mother to ask her to arrange a lunch with her father if she had not met Loukis. If she had not realised that people made mistakes, sometimes not entirely their own fault. That love could be felt and wanted, despite events that shaped wishes into other things. Just as she loved and wanted Loukis, despite knowing her actions had brought about their separation. And though he was no longer going to be a part of her life, he had left behind those fundamental changes within her. Even as her heart ached, she felt transformed by him.
Glorious scent-laden steam wafted up from the cup of coffee. For the last three days, Célia had desperately tried to stave off sleep for as long as possible. Because at night, the dreams came. Memories mixed with fantasies, as Loukis kissed and caressed his way through the sleeping hours, leaving her to wake with tears on her eyelashes as she realised he was no longer a part of her life.
Her phone pinged with a message she would have ignored had it not been from an unknown number.
Leaning forward over the cup, she read the text.
can you call .me cherry
A spike of adrenaline sliced through her so quickly, it took her a moment to decipher the unpunctuated message.
She grabbed for the phone, immediately worried that Annabelle was in some kind of trouble, uncaring of the way she had slammed her cup on the table or the spill of dark caffeinated stain soaking into the plush white rug on the floor.
The moment the call rang through, Célia demanded to know if Annabelle was okay.
‘Yes. No. Well, yes,’ came the somewhat confusing reply. ‘I am,’ she concluded, perhaps realising how scared Célia had been in that moment.
Célia expelled a giant lungful of air and leaned back against the pillow again.
‘Well,ma chérie,what can I do for you?’ she said, somehow wrangling her voice under control, even as her pulse began a slow descent to normality.
Please don’t talk about Loukis. Please.
Célia honestly didn’t think she could bear it. But she was desperate to find out what happened with the court case after she had left. Had they awarded Loukis guardianship? Or had the damage been irretrievable? She drew her thumb to her mouth and bit at the nail to prevent all the questions from falling onto the shoulders of a ten-year-old girl.
