My Cherie Amour (Fully Posted)

Chapter 37

Cherie

Since the storm wasn't letting up, Cherie agreed to have dinner with Blaise, but a part of her wished to escape.

"Dove's staying at a swanky hotel; it's not too far from here," he said. Opening the fridge, he pointed inside. "She's got this stocked with takeout, and she showed me how to use the appliances. There's also a gas stove, so we can work around losing power. What do you say to Fettuccine Alfredo?"

She spoke softly. "That sounds delicious."

After retrieving, warming, and praying over the food, they gave their attention to eating. The cleaning up was something they shared before they returned to the fireside.

"What were you reading when I found you?" he asked.

Reaching into her tote, she took out Rebecca. "I actually started reading this book at the villa. Was that copy yours?"

"No, it must've been Laurie's. May I see?"

She handed it to him.

"I remember her mentioning the movie once; I think it's considered historic." He looked at the back cover. "Is it interesting?"

"Very. I'm a slow reader, but I'm seriously enjoying it."

"Tell me what it is that you enjoy," he said only seconds after her answer.

Only mildly taken aback by the rapid follow up, as she knew this was just how he was, Cherie made her reply. "For one thing, I'm learning about the characters on intimate levels, although they're extremely mysterious. Prime example, I'm over fifteen chapters in and I still don't know the narrator's name or much about her background, but I do know her innermost thoughts."

"And for another?"

She played with her fingers. "I can relate to her a little. She's the second wife of her husband, Maxim, and she wants their marriage to work. Unfortunately, Maxim is secretive, guarded, and the memory of Rebecca, his first wife, touches most of their lives together."

"Oh, does that make you think of you, me, and Karina?"

"Again, only a little, and strictly on the surface," she stressed. "When you dig, it's not the same at all. You and Karina love each other. But Maxim and Rebecca? I have a hunch that they're more complicated."

Blaise nodded and gave the book back. "Mysterious, indeed."

"Yes," she said. After a brief hesitation, she added, "I guess I'm drawn to mysteries."

When he looked at her, she knew he'd understood what she was getting at.

"I think it's more that you're drawn to the challenges of solving them. You like to get to the hearts of things."

She grimaced. "I hate how well you know me sometimes."

"No, you don't, but you're scared that I'll get to the bottom of your mystery, and if I did, you'd think that I had power over you. You hate the idea of anyone having power over you because, you know like I know, how it is to feel completely powerless."

Cherie tucked her knees beneath her and stared straight ahead.

"Will you tell me what happened that day on the plane?"

"It doesn't matter," she said and hugged herself.

"If it didn't matter, it wouldn't have driven the wedge between us so deep that you felt the need to run from me, and you wouldn't be hurting right now."

She clutched her head. "Fine. It matters, and it hurts. It hurts to remember."

"That's because you're holding on to something that doesn't belong to you. I inflicted the pain, so let me bear the burden. Give it back."

"Blaise, please."

"Come on. Give me what's mine, and take back the power that's yours."

Slowly, she lowered her hands from her head and looked at him.

"Here," he said, holding out his own hands. "Squeeze as hard as you want while you tell me."

Gingerly, she took his fingers, the calluses drawing her notice, and said, "I have to start from before, and I have to do this without interruptions."

He nodded.

"After the fair, I thought we were on the same page," she said. "About my place in your life, that is. I thought it made sense to you that I wanted to help as a friend without being anything more, and I thought you could see that it wasn't because I didn't love you, but because I do and I don't want that love to be compromised."

He nodded again.

"But then Laurie introduced me to Oscar, and I saw that it made you upset. When we boarded the plane the next day, you drank more than I'd ever seen you drink. On the flip side, you seemed drunker than that during the 'incident' we had on our vacation, but then you were mostly obnoxious. This time, you were intimidating. You made it clear that you felt abandoned, and you said that I never loved you. That made my blood boil.

"So, I mistakenly retaliated. I implied that your love for me wasn't real, but a performance that you put on so you wouldn't have to be alone."

Blaise closed his eyes.

"I shouldn't have said that," Cherie whispered. "But I did, it hurt you, and you reacted. You threw your glass at me."

His eyes popped wide open.

"It was empty," she said quickly. "And I moved so fast that it missed me. But it broke and there were all these pieces . . .." She flinched. "I got scared. I hid in the restroom. You tried convincing me to come out. I didn't immediately. I waited until I couldn't hear you anymore before I did, and I found you on the floor sleeping. That's it."

His brow creased. "I could've gotten glass in your eyes."

"You didn't."

"But you could've been cut."

"I wasn't."

He let go of her hands. "I really lost my mind."

Everything Cherie could think of to say sounded like she was either excusing him or wanted him to feel bad, so she said nothing.

Blaise got up, paced, then sat down again. "Are you okay being alone with me? Are you scared right now? Is there anything else I should know about?"

She held up her hands to stall his questions. "Listen."

The rain had stopped.

For reasons she didn't understand, Cherie suddenly wanted to laugh. "No offense, but this is the best I've felt with you in a long time. I say the air is clear. Thank you for making me tell you what happened."

The concern on his face remained. "You're probably sick of my apologies, but I mean them. I'll show that I'm sincere."

"Blaise?"

"Yes?"

"Matthew 18:22."

She watched his mind work, and she smiled when he showed comprehension.

"You've forgiven me?"

"Correct."

"Hmm," he said, visibly uneasy. A few minutes later, though, he wore a faint smile of his own. "Does this mean that you'll play at my retrospective?"

She laughed. "Sure, Draper. You've got yourself a percussionist."

They didn't hug because they weren't 'there' yet, but they did hold hands again, and for a moment, Cherie felt peace. This peace lasted for the remainder of their stay in Bahia.

Unfortunately, trouble was brewing for them back in Port Matthews.

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