Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 20.1: The Fallen Woman

Max didn't slow his stride. Passing by the first establishment, he stopped to read the menu posted at the next.

Monsieur! Monsieur! Someone yelled from nearby and looking around, they saw a formally dressed man waving at them from the adjacent restaurant.

"Are you serious?" She turned toward Max with a smile. "Even a maître d' in the French countryside knows you?"

He squeezed her hand before walking to the empty table the man was offering them. "I tip well."

They placed their orders, and as Alfredo and Violetta's tumultuous love story unfolded in the background, Reine and Max reminisced about their own mostly happy - and often complicated - times together.

"It's a bit uncanny that we're finally going on a somewhat average date. I mean, after seven years of a very chaste courtship and six weeks of an extremely tantalizing marriage." Max winked before taking a drink of his water.

Reine's cheeks blushed. "Best six weeks of my life. Which reminds me . . ." She paused, taking a sip from her glass. "I've always wondered whether you had any lovers during our engagement. I mean, I certainly won't judge. You were twenty-five by the time we got around to getting hitched."

He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. "Well, it was a different time. Only women were expected to remain pure until their wedding night."

"We got rid of that obstacle pretty quickly didn't we? Because I'm pretty sure most of what we did that Christmas Eve was considered sacrilegious." She laughed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

He leaned forward, relaxing once again. "And how close were we to having to postpone the date again?"

"That's right!" Her eyes widened at the recollection. "I almost forgot that my carriage's wheel broke even before it got out of our palazzo's courtyard."

"Didn't you start walking to the church instead of waiting for another?" he asked.

Reine nodded. "And in the snow, no less. I remember I had this massive gown - it weighed a ton from all the jewels and gold thread on it - and the hem was soaked from the slush. But nothing was going to make me delay marrying the delectable Massimo Baldovini."

He reached across the table and took her hand. "Hmm. Delectable? I don't think I've ever heard you call me that before."

"No? Well, I've always thought it," she revealed, weaving her fingers between his. "You were quite a catch, you know. Handsome, smart, rich. I was a lucky girl."

The smile suddenly left his face, and Max's eyes shifted to the candle flickering in the middle of the table. "I was the lucky one because you still wanted me even after so many years of waiting."

Reine squeezed his hand to get him to look back at her. "I still would."

The candid admission surprised her, but Max didn't see it as a compliment. Instead, he drew his hand away and let out a bitter chuckle. "Now why would you say that?"

She began fiddling with her napkin. "I don't know. It just came out, I guess." Reine took a deep breath. "But I do mean it. I think I've just been alone too long and being with you today, and then almost losing you again . . ." She trailed off, not knowing how to continue. Luckily, the opera provided a useful distraction.

"Oh, this part is so sad," she said as she turned toward the stage and listened as Alfredo falsely accused Violetta of loving another. "I always secretly wish they would have a happier ending."

"They would have if Alfredo's father Giorgio hadn't intervened. He basically drove her away from his son and to the Baron." Apparently, Max knew the story as well as she did.