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“God knows. She has been all over the place these past few days. I don’t know what is in her head.”
“Elda’s head is a difficult place to navigate.” Charlie’s hands shook as she tipped the glass and gulped the wine. The smooth alcohol warmed her throat. “Sorry, this is a bit much. I’ve come all this way and need to find her. Where might she be?”
“Where do you think?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Please help me out here.” Charlie considered the farce of chasing Elda around Paris. “I love her.”
“Of course you do. You have come all the way to Paris on a Thursday night to tell her. Where do you think she’s hanging out, all by herself?”
Of course.Charlie finished the glass of wine in one, thanked Sylvie for the welcome, and stepped out of the apartment. The ancient, uneven concrete steps were a blur as she raced towards her destination.
“The Métro is two blocks away. Enjoy,” Sylvie called from her window.
Charlie spun around to face the final leg of her journey. She braced herself against the chill and forgot the weight of her suitcase. Desperate to reach Elda and tell her how much she loved her, Charlie hoped the adrenaline pumping through her veins would be enough to carry her across the city. She tripped on a flagstone and gathered herself. This last-chance attempt to reach Elda was worth every painful step.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The last of the guided groups was leaving the atrium. Elda nodded to one of the guards she’d gotten to know over the past few weeks. Her late-night trips to the Musée d’Orsay had become a kind of therapy.
In the wide-open heart of the building, she could stretch her lungs and admire the sculptured giants around her. But tonight, she sought out the dark corners of the museum and followed the twisting corridors until she could smell the musty age of forgotten masterpieces. Here in the bowels of the old train station, she would stumble upon an early work or a rough sketch. She needed to know the imperfections of the masters and their work in progress. She wanted to understand their faults and corrections, so that she might comprehend her own mistakes.
Resting on a polished stone bench, the cold crept beneath her skin. She shut her eyes, planning her next move. Going home was easy. She could afford the fare, and she could be there tomorrow morning. Returning was harder. What would she say to Charlie? The bitterness of her anger lingered, even though she was desperate to feel Charlie’s arms around her. Charlie had let her down when she needed her most.
She looked across at the brown walls cocooning her. Tiny, framed pieces hung on display. They were the kind she had to peer at to discover their meaning. She knew the feeling. She’d had to get close to her own emotions this week to reveal her truth as well as her flaws.
A tear dropped onto her cheek, and she wiped at it with her fingertips. She was so alone. She’d ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her. She’d run away from Charlie, giving her no chance of being there for her. She’d left before she could be abandoned.
The paintings blurred, and she pressed her eyelids, wishing the pain would go away. Somewhere down the corridor, there were footsteps, and she hoped that her solitude would remain unbroken for a few more moments.
A silence followed, and Elda suspended her thoughts inside it, caught in the void. It was threatening and peaceful at the same time.
“Here you are.”
For the briefest moment, Elda thought it was Charlie, and she smiled at the power of her imagination. At the touch on her arm, her eyes sprang open to see it really was Charlie. She wasn’t dreaming.
“Charlie—”
“Please, hear what I have to say. I just want to tell you something.” Charlie held her hands out.
Elda had missed her face so much, she was using all her strength not to pull her against her. “How did you know I was here?”
Charlie kneeled at the stone bench, her hands wringing. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t there for you. I haven’t put you first. And that was wrong. You are first. You areeverything.”
“But how?” Elda’s mind was frantic, piecing together the parts that had brought her here.
“It’s late-night opening at your favourite museum. I knew you’d be here.” Charlie looked away. “I’ve already been chewed up by your friend Sylvie. She seems lovely, by the way.”
“She’s a Rottweiler. Heart of gold but very protective.” Every inch of Elda wanted to collapse into Charlie, but something inside her needed more. “Why did you come though?”
“To find you. To tell you that you’re the most important person to me.” Charlie took Elda’s hand, and the fire between them roared back to life. “I love you.”
A drum thundered in Elda’s ears. The words she longed to hear. Could they be real?
“I’ve taken a break from work. I want to show you that you come first. We can stay here for as long as you like. You can paint, and we can be together.”
The booming got louder. Charlie wasn’t just telling her that she was loved; she was showing her. “You took a break from work, for me? What about becoming KC?” Elda pulled away from Charlie and tucked her shaking hands beneath her legs.
“It can wait. Everything can wait. I was an idiot to not understand what was happening. That night, when you jumped in front of my car, everything changed. I changed. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” Charlie laughed through her tears and grasped Elda’s knee, sending shockwaves through her body. “Elda, speak to me.”
