rays of sunlight // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 26

After dinner, the five of us go back into the living room, and just talk. We don't talk about anything serious or sad. We just let ourselves cut loose a little bit and laugh. Have a little fun. It feels so good to let myself do this, for once.

Finally, though, at about 9:30 P.M. that night, my siblings say they better get going.

"You're going to be leaving now, at night, in the dark?" Antoine asks, a bit concerned and certainly pretty confused.

"Yeah," Marie says. "We have somewhere else we'd like to be tomorrow morning. It's fine. We take turns driving. And we're all good night drivers, anyway."

"Are you sure?" he asks, still unsure. "We have room here."

"Antoine, we know," Charlie chuckles. "This is more our home than yours. But we really should get going. Like she said, we have somewhere to be."

"Where on earth are you three going together that is so incredibly important?"

"It's actually me that is making us leave this late," Pedro steps in. "There is a race tomorrow, and I want to go to it. It was my idea, but I think they want to go, too. Right?"

"Yeah, of course, Pedro," Marie says with a quick nod.

My eyebrow goes up in interest. "What sort of race?"

"Race cars," Charlie says.

"Oh, that can be interesting," Antoine nods. "I get why you'd want to leave for that."

"You wanna go with them, Antoine?" I joke, nudging him.

"Aw, no way," he snorts. "I'd obviously rather be with you, baby." I grin at this comment from him.

"See?" Pedro says. "Just another reason for us to get going. I gotta get away from all this sap." There is obviously a teasing tint to his voice. I know that all my older siblings are very proud of my choice for a man. They know he's good. They know he's the best for me.

I, with some emotional pain, hug my siblings, and watch them drive off. I stand by the window, looking out it, long after they are gone.

Antoine knows me. He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms gently around my body. I lean my head back on him, closing my eyes. He says very softly in my ear, with his low, beautiful voice, "It's hard to see them go again?"

I nod, my eyes getting a little wet. "They don't stay long. They never do. They didn't stay long after... after he passed away, either. They just don't. And I don't blame them for that. I guess they know now, at least, that I have you."

"Still, it hurts." His voice is so gentle and loving. It feels like he is wrapping me up in it like a warm blanket.

"It does. I just really start to miss them a lot sometimes. And good times never last."

His voice gets even softer, even close to my ear, that I can feel his breath on it. "Belle, don't say that."

"Well, they don't." I am aware of how bitter I sound. But I fully believe the words I am speaking are completely true.

"Maybe they haven't for you yet, Belle. But that doesn't mean they never do. You know, the moment I saw you that day a little over a month ago, I had a mission in my mind."

I turn to look right into his beautiful swirling blue eyes. Even here in the dark of the room, I can see them shining. "What do you mean?"

He smiles, very, very softly, before explaining, "I saw a broken girl. Shattered to pieces. In need of love. In need of some joy in her life. I thought, 'I want to bring that to her. I want to bring that to this broken, shattered girl. I would love to put her back together.' I have a mission, Belle. I want to make you happy. Long term. Nothing short. I want your life to be bright, full of sunlight. Not just little rays of it shining in here and there. No. I want everything in you to be bright and joyful. And mark my words, someday, that will come to pass. Someday, Belle, your good times will last. I will let you see how it feels to truly be content. And maybe you will, without even noticing it, help me truly see what happiness is, too. Because I think you already have been, without even trying to. So I want to light up your life the way you are doing that for me."

I let my forehead drop into his chest, and for some reason, more tears come. They are not happy tears, but I think they are good tears. I am not mad or sad as they fall. Maybe I'm just thankful. In love with his love. With his perfection. With the unrelenting kindness and love he shows me, despite all the places I mess up.

It touches me to know that there is someone in the world who has such a big mission, just to do one thing- to make me happy.

And suddenly, everything he has done and said in this past month makes complete sense to me.

It is all done out of complete and utter goodwill and love for me.

And I cry, because there is someone who cares that much about me. I grip his shirt, and he says, sounding surprised in concern, but keeping his soft volume, "Belle? What is wrong?"

"Antoine," I sniff, just loving that name, painted on my tongue. "Nothing is wrong... Well, things are wrong, but that's not why I'm crying... I'm crying because of you... You're so... So... Special... to me..."

"Belle," he breathes, kissing me on top of my head, over and over, because somehow, a girl like me enchants him.

Me and my dull brown hair that is more often tangled than not. Me and my thin eyebrows. Me and my dull, sad brown eyes. Why does he love me? What does he see in me? I'm just some... some girl! Some sad, depressed, girl! Why does he care so much to want to help me so much?

There is a deep, deep connection between me and Antoine. It goes back to years and years ago. And no matter how ugly and sad I am, and no matter how hot and put together he is, somehow, there is no way to keep us from each other.