by Pratt, Lulu
Chloe invited me in with a small movement of her head.
“Thanks,” I said, stepping into the room.
“Here, let me show you.”
We went inside the glass cube and Chloe began to pull out the pictures one by one, displaying them with pride.
I nodded at each one she showed me, hardly even looking. Chloe didn’t appear stressed by my presence at all. It was as if none of it had ever happened. Was I in some kind of alternate dimension?
Unable to take it any longer, I asked.
“Chloe, did you get my voicemail last night?”
She bent to a painting, as if examining it for defect. It was hard to miss her lack of eye contact.
“I don’t think so,” she replied evenly, still avoiding my gaze. “I went to bed early and haven’t looked at my phone yet. I’ve just been super tired recently.”
“Oh.” Well, that sounded true enough. Maybe I was just suspicious because I’d been hoping she’d say something very different. “Sorry to hear that.”
Her nose twitched and she stood upright, sniffing around the room. “Are you wearing cologne?”
“Uh, what?” That wasn’t a direction of conversation I had anticipated.
“Cologne.”
“I mean, a little.” I paused. “Do you… like it?”
“Actually, it makes me kind of nauseous.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
We both stood for a moment, unsure of what to say next.
Chloe broke the tension first.
“I’ve got a lot of work to do. If you approve of the restoration so far—”
I hastened to insert, “Of course I do, you’ve done a great job.”
“Thanks. Then I’m gonna get back to work. If you want to talk about the restoration more, and get whatever details your company needs, then we can meet up later. It should all be done and dried in time for the gala.”
“That’s awesome. Yeah, I’d love to hear more about what you’re doing.”
Chloe nodded, scrunching her nose again.
I scrutinized her face. “Is everything okay, Chloe?”
Of course, everything was most definitely not okay, but she seemed determined to pretend otherwise. And yet, beneath that determination, something was clearly up with her.
Chloe bit her lip with small white teeth, then smiled a distant, professional smile.
“Totally. I’m just busy.”
“Right. Then I’ll let you get back to work.”
I walked out of the room, my heart still pounding in my chest as I made my way up the stairs.
None of that had been what I expected. I was ready for tears or iciness, but instead, she’d given me a kind of corporate professionalism. It was the lack of emotion that scared me the most.
I made my way to Comino’s main room, a large, sprawling space with pieces from a variety of periods and movements, but all interrelated with some element too fine for a coarse eye like mine to parse. Despite my lack of technical knowledge, I knew enough to see that it was beautiful.
With a tilt of my head, I looked up at the skylight. A light dusting of snow was sprinkling overhead. The season was changing, and so was I.
“It’s time to move on,” I said softly. “It’s time.”
The past was the past, and needed to stay that way. All I had was the promise of the future — one without Chloe. It’d been foolish to think I could relight a fizzling flame.
It was time to start anew.
CHAPTER 35
Chloe
WEEKS PASSED without word from Xavier. I had to remind myself in my new world that was a good thing, even if it didn’t feel like it.
In the meantime, I hadn’t heard back from the Louvre. I’d sent along my résumé and photographs of my work several weeks ago, so I was stuck in a strange liminal space between New York and Paris, my heart not quite in either of them.
For lack of a more definite answer, I threw myself into my work. That had always been a decent distraction. And never more so than now, when I was in the final sprint to the finish line that was the gala.
It was a Monday morning when I put the last touches on the last piece in the restored collection. The moment I swiped on the final coat, I rang Mx. Tok.
“Mx. Tok, I think the pieces are complete.”
“Do you think, or do you know?”
Confidently, I replied, “I know they’re complete.”
“Good. I’ll be down in a moment.”
Sure enough, not even minutes later — had she run in those Alexander McQueen shoes? — Mx. Tok was in the restoration space and asking me to lay out the paintings before her.
I spread them out one by one, watching her inscrutable face with trepidation. If she disliked my work, I was screwed. She was a major player in this industry, and I couldn’t get by without her approval.
After what seemed to be ages, she looked up at me and gave the tiniest of nods.
“Well done, Chloe. These will do beautifully.”
Unable to help myself, I breathed an audible sigh of relief. I’d done it. This huge, enormous task that had consumed my life was finally finished.
“I’d like to talk to you about the Louvre, Chloe.” Great. My throat immediately tightened again. She continued, “If you’ve decided to go, I will see to it that they select you as their new restoration artist.”
“You can do that?” I asked.
She brayed, “Darling, of course I can. Is that what you want?”
My brow furrowed. That seemed to be the question of the hour. What did I want?
“Is something wrong?”
I finally found my voice. “No, no, definitely not. And thank you so much for your offer, I really appreciate it.”
“Does that mean you’re turning it down?” Mx. Tok pressed.
“No, I just… have to arrange some things before I can give you my final answer. Loose strings to tie up, you know?”
“So, a man,” she said with a smirk. “Or perhaps a woman?”
I balked. It was the first time I’d heard Mx. Tok mention anything remotely personal beyond work.
“Neither,” I replied. “Just life stuff. Can I sleep on your offer?”
“Of course, it’s an open offer of assistance. But keep in mind, Chloe, that the Louvre does not like to be kept waiting. If you don’t move fast, the opportunity may be gone by the time you make up your mind.”
I nodded. “I understand. And thank you again.”
“I look forward to hearing your answer. Now, I must go speak with the President of Peru, he has some very dull questions about national galleries.”
The door slammed behind her, and I was alone. But this time, there was no work to be done, no business to distract me from my thoughts.
“I’ll take a walk,” I told myself, speaking aloud as I sometimes did to maintain sanity in this tiny room.
The stairs had begun to feel like more and more of a challenge, and I held the railing as I went up. God, what would it be like at eight months? I shuddered to think of the limitation to my mobility. I placed a hand on my belly, knowing that I was starting to show. If I didn’t get out of here soon, it wouldn’t be a question of hiding the pregnancy from Xavier — it’d be staring him right in the face.
In the main gallery, I noticed that the paintings weren’t quite as illuminated as usual, that the bright airiness of the place felt a little more like a winter cabin than a palace to modern art.
I glanced up, and realized that the skylight overhead was completely caked in snow, blocking out nearly all natural light. Winter has come, I thought with wonder. Somehow, in the midst of all my work, I’d missed its arrival and was now quite taken by surprise.
“You’re gonna be born right around Easter,” I murmured to my baby, since the gallery was empty of patrons… perhaps due to this snow I’d failed to notice. “Right as the flowers bloom.”
But would my kid be born in Paris — that was the real question. The more I stared at the snow falling overhea
d, the more uncertain I became. I needed guidance, somebody to help me make this decision. Alas, there was no one I could turn to. Was there a “right” choice, or just one decision and another?
Oh, screw it. I needed to call the one person who always had an answer.
So I pulled out my cell and dialed Xavier.
CHAPTER 36
Xavier
“CHLOE?”
I was surprised to hear from her. No, surprised didn’t cover it. I was shocked. It’d been a more than a month since we’d spoken, and now this?
“Can we grab dinner at our place?”
“Sure, but Chloe…”
“I know, it’s been a while. But I want to tell you about the final restoration. It’s all finished, Xavier, it’s done in time for the gala.”
“Ah.” I guess I should’ve expected that it would be about something professional. It was silly to have hoped otherwise. “Sure, I’ll meet you there at eight.”
“Great, can’t wait.”
When I walked into the restaurant that night, Chloe was in a different booth than our usual one. The change sent a sudden shock through my system, as though electrical cords had been attached to my neck and a current sent through.
I joined her nonetheless. “Why the new table?”
She smiled tightly. “I thought a change of scenery would be nice.”
My heart sank in my chest. So that’s what this was gonna be about.
“Remember our first night together, back in college?” I asked, still clinging to the past. “In that other table, our table, where we had a late-night study session.”
“Yeah, and they just kept bringing us pot after pot of green tea.”
“And you had so much your hands started shaking.”
Chloe laughed. “And then we… ” She trailed off. Besides, we both knew what had happened next — we’d slept together.
She was talking about everything like it was in the past. And, technically, it was. We’d both agreed to move forward. So why wasn’t I doing that? If Chloe was moving on, I needed to do the same. If it was time for a new booth, then hell, it was time for a new life.
And I knew exactly how to prove my resolve.
Just today, I’d picked up the ring with which I was going to propose to Rebecca. It was an enormous diamond from the depths of the earth, plus a few other large sparkly jewels to finish the whole look. The thing was fit for a queen. I’d been on the fence about whether or not I would actually give it to Rebecca, but in that moment, I made my decision.
“I’m getting married,” I announced to Chloe, pulling the ring out of my breast pocket and plopping it down on the table. “This is the ring.”
Her eyes flitted to mine, then back down to the box. “Wow.”
“Open it, take a look.”
She took a single breath, then used her practiced fingers to pop open the black velvet container.
“Wow, Xavier, it’s… ” She gazed down at the ring.
“I’m gonna propose at the gala. Do you like it?”
She snapped it shut, and slid the container back across the table. Her face was inscrutable. “It’s nice. I’m sure Rebecca will like it. It seems like the kind of thing anyone could like. Is it special? An heirloom, or something?”
“Nah it’s, um, just a ring.” I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly felt rather guilty about this truthful answer. Had I done something wrong?
Chloe pressed her lips into a smile. “That’s cool. Congratulations in advance.”
“Thanks.” There was silence, so I asked, “And you? When are you leaving for France?”
She tucked her hands under her legs, the way she always had. “I actually wasn’t sure if I was going. But I think I just made up my mind. I’m gonna leave in a week.”
“A week?!” I cried out, unable to contain my emotion.
“Is that a problem?” she asked with a half-smile.
“No,” I said, hurriedly backtracking. “No, of course not. I’m so happy for you.”
And I was, in a way. I was proud that she was achieving such a huge milestone in her career. I mean, jeez, it was the Louvre. I just couldn’t believe that she was leaving again. And this time, I felt, for good.
“Xavier, now that this—” she gestured with a finger back and forth between us “—now that it’s all over, what does it mean? Or rather, what did it mean for you?”
It meant the world, I thought. It was everything. She had consumed my life. But there was no way to tell her that. At least, no fair way. She deserved to get absolutely everything she wanted. I’d played with her long enough, keeping her on a string while I debated whether or not I could make a future with her work. It had been a massive unkindness. Now, the only way to remedy that was by lying. Because to tell her the truth — that I wanted her in my life, now and for always — would only hurt us both. And I couldn’t bear to hurt her again.
“It’s meant a chance to catch up with an old friend,” I said at last. “That’s all.”
CHAPTER 37
Chloe
THERE WAS A sinking in my stomach as I saw Xavier’s face transform with earnest emotion. He meant it. I could tell from the way his lips formed an open half-smile, one of eagerness and honesty, not tight repression. Shit. He was really gonna let me walk away.
This was supposed to be what I wanted, right?
A sudden urge to scream rose from within me, to shout in the middle of this restaurant, our restaurant, that he was the father of my child and maybe the love of my life and he could not, goddamnit, leave me like this.
Instead, I stayed silent.
Because if I told him the truth — that I was missing him already, that I was carrying his baby — then he’d be forced to choose me. He was a standup guy. He would help me raise the child. But there would always be a sheen of resentment, I felt, for twisting his arm into said decision. I didn’t want my pregnancy to be a tool for recrimination, because then everything after it would be a disgusting falsehood.
“This has been a fun trip down memory lane,” Xavier continued. I’d wandered so far off into my own world I’d practically forgotten we were talking.
His eyes widened, waiting for me to reply. And I did, ‘cuz what else was there to do? Either I came out with the whole story, or I let this lie define us.
I chose the lie.
“Yeah, it’s been nice, remembering everything,” I said at last. “Just like old times.”
Except this go-round, I’m having your baby, but whatever.
“Chloe…”
“Yes?”
“Promise me that you’re really okay with this.”
He reached across the table to take my hand in his. I knew it was supposed to be a friendly, caring gesture, but I couldn’t ignore the sparks that flew between our palms. Why was he making this harder than it needed to be? Couldn’t he just do what I was doing — shut down and tells fabrications until the lie became the truth?
His fingers were so warm against mine.
“I’m okay,” I agreed, for lack of a better option. My voice was not yet betraying the emotions that were welling up.
“With us, the engagement, all of it?”
“Yeah,” I said, this time in a stronger voice, perhaps convinced that if I just said it louder, it’d become reality.
“Okay…”
“Don’t feel bad, Xavier. I’m all right, really, I am.” I plastered a smile across my face. “You know me. I always land on my feet. And I don’t take anything too hard. This has been an adventure, nothing more.”
He returned the smile, even if I detected a hint of desperation in his eyes. “You did always love an adventure.”
“And this has been an excellent one. Let’s not try to make it more than that.”
God, I hated every fucking word I was saying, but I was trapped. Xavier had to choose his family. He loved them so, so much. Never mind the fact that they were also inextricably tied up in the only career he’d ever known. I couldn’t ask him to walk away fr
om his loved ones and his work aspirations, because if it turned out I wasn’t enough, everything would be my fault.
I stood up from the table, my choice made.
“I knew what I was getting into,” I told him as I arranged my coat over my body, trying to hide the faint bump I knew was showing through my dress. “And besides, we tried this before, and it didn’t work then. What’s to make us think anything would be different? We’re not kids anymore.”
And I’m carrying your kid, I added mentally, but refrained from speaking the words aloud.
Xavier nodded, his sharp chin bobbing slowly up and down, like a buoy caught on the waves.
“You’re right, of course you’re right. I just… wanted to make sure. Before we called time on this. On us.”
“I understand,” I said tightly, even though I wasn’t sure I did.
“So I’ll see you around?”
“You know where to find me.”
He grinned, and I tried to ignore the edge of sadness I saw dimpling his cheeks. “Paris. The city of love.”
“The city of gainful employment, more importantly.”
“Right. So we’ll meet again?”
He was still seated. I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, the way I thought friends did.
“Eventually,” I told him. “Maybe not soon. I might need… a little time. But then yes, of course. We’ll meet again. Goodbye, Xavier.”
I leaned down and planted a kiss on his cheek. Xavier exhaled, and the noise sent tingles down my spine. His hand came to grip my forearm, as though he could pin me down the table like a butterfly, keeping me there forever.
But then he let go, and I understood we were done.
“Goodbye, Chloe.”
And with that, I walked out of our restaurant — now just a restaurant that served Chinese food — and back to my apartment to pack for Paris.
CHAPTER 38
Chloe
TWO WEEKS later, I had settled in Paris.
