The Camp (Chateau Book 2)
Page 30
“And you’re okay with that?”
I nodded and took a drink. “It feels right.”
“Our goal was to retire. And you’re working again.”
I shrugged. “I like horses. As long as I don’t deal with people, I’m fine.”
“You could start the business again. Just do it the right way.”
I consider that so I could earn back my wealth, but it was still a dangerous business, and all I wanted was a peaceful life. I wanted simplicity. I wanted to go to work and then come home to the woman I shared my life with. “I’m not interested in that anymore.”
He looked at me over the glass as he took a drink. He didn’t seem to agree with what I had done, but my money was gone, so there was no point in making an argument. “Are you happy?”
I thought of our little moments, doing dishes in the sink, watching her teach me how to do the laundry, the smile in her eyes when she woke up and saw me next to her. It was a life I should’ve had in the first place. I should’ve grown up with my family, went to university, settled down with someone special, and had a great life. “Yes.”
He gave a slight nod, like that was all he wanted to hear. He raised his glass to me.
I lifted mine and tapped it against his.
We both took a drink.
Fender turned to look across the house to the staircase. “What’s taking her so long to get ready to marry me?”
“Maybe she’s come to her senses.”
He turned back to me, his eyes narrowed. “She knows there’s no other man who’s man enough for her.”
“I don’t know…” I liked to tease my brother. It was easy to get a rise out of him.
“I’m sure she just wants to—”
Melanie reached the bottom of the stairs and came into view, Raven behind her and helping with the train of the dress. “Be careful. Don’t step on it.”
“I am being careful,” Raven said.
Melanie turned around and faced her sister, her hands moving down and smoothing out her dress. “That took forever. Do I look okay?”
Raven came close and fixed her sister’s hair before bending down to adjust her dress. When she came back up, she grabbed both of her arms and gave her an affectionate look. “You look perfect, Melanie.”
I knew Raven would never truly be happy with her sister’s decision to marry Fender, but she put on a smile and was there for her. There was nothing she could say to make her sister feel differently, so she let it go.
Fender stared at Melanie the whole time, ignoring both me and the scotch like we didn’t exist. His eyes were laser-focused, like he’d never seen anything so magnetic in his life. “Yes, she does.” He got to his feet and stepped away from the sitting area to get closer.
Melanie turned to look at him, and the sincerity of her gaze was unmistakable. Fender was truly the man she wanted to spend her life with, and her love was stronger than his sins. She gathered the front of her dress and lifted it slightly as she walked to him, her eyes taking him in like there was music playing and she was walking down the aisle. When she reached him, her arms circled his neck and she hugged him.
His powerful arms wrapped around her body, and he held her close so he could embrace her, so he could stick his hand into her hair and kiss her deeply, even when the woman wasn’t even his wife yet.
Raven emerged from behind them, wearing a pink dress the color of rose gold, with flowers in her hair. She watched them together for a moment before her eyes shifted to me. She wore a slight smile, like she’d somehow missed me in the few hours we’d been apart.
I knew I’d missed her.
The four of us stood with the priest on the grounds as the ceremony took place. Fender and Melanie looked at each other like no one else was there, and with their hands held together, they pledged their love and loyalty for a lifetime.
Melanie was facing me, but instead of looking at her, I looked at Raven. I could see the conflict on her face, see how happy she was for her sister, but also upset by the man she’d chose to be her husband.
Her brown hair was in curls up and over one shoulder with a row of flowers in her hair. Her makeup was heavier than usual, accentuating her features and making her lips look so plump. The tight dress was beautiful on her, and I wondered how my brother could be so fascinated with Melanie when Raven was so much more than her sister could ever be.
The priest ended the ceremony, and the two of them kissed—again.
Raven and I clapped.
Fender took Melanie’s hand and pulled her away, walking with her across the large estate where they would live for the rest of their lives. Her white dress trailed behind her, and she walked close to him as if normal proximity wasn’t quite enough.
The priest followed them.
They left the two of us to stare at each other.
I stepped closer to her until my face was just inches away. “Beautiful.”
She smiled in a special way, the tenderness in her eyes more than her lips, but the compliment meant the world to her. Her sister’s beauty could never outshine her own, at least not when it came to me.
“Doing okay?”
She released a sigh and gave a subtle nod. “He’s the man she wants. Nothing I say will change the way she feels. We can’t always choose who we love. Sometimes, love chooses you.” Her hands moved to mine, and she interlocked our fingers. “Just trying to move on and leave the past in the past. We’ve done everything we can to make it right. Fender has done everything he can to make it right. Suffering and guilt won’t change what’s been done. So, I know we need to find happiness when we can.”
I loved her pure heart, her integrity, and her morality. I loved that she stood up for what she believed in, no matter the adversity. She was strong, brave, fierce. This was the woman I wanted to raise my daughters to be the same way, to raise my sons to look for a woman who didn’t need a man at all, but wanted one all the same. I’d had no idea what I was really looking for in a partner until I found it. “You make me happy.”
Her eyes softened.
“I didn’t just give away my money. I gave away my rage, my vengeance. I gave away my broken heart because a whole one took its place. I didn’t just find happiness with you, but also peace. You gave me peace.”
Epilogue
Raven
I unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment. My bag was over my shoulder, full of textbooks and my notebook. I locked the door behind me and set the bag on the counter. The dishes were done, the apartment was clean, and there was dinner cooking on the stove. “I’m home!”
His voice came from upstairs. “Just got out of the shower.”
I took a peek at dinner and even stuck my fork inside to get a few bites before I grabbed a couple plates and set them at the small dining table near the window. It was a cold night, Christmas just a few weeks away. Our tree was in the corner, decorated with white lights and shiny ornaments.
He came downstairs a few minutes later, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.
“Thanks for making dinner. Smells great.”
“And tastes great, right?” He gave me a playful stare, like he knew I’d snuck a bite.
“I mean…I was just checking to see if it was done.”
He chuckled and came in close to wrap his arms around me before he gave me a kiss.
My arms wrapped around his neck, and I held him tightly, feeling those lips convey all his love.
He pulled away and turned to the stove.
I knew how happy he was every day. He didn’t explicitly say it, but it was obvious in his features, in his lovely smile. It was a side to him I never knew at the camp, never knew outside this apartment.
He served dinner, and together we set the table and ate. We shared the events of our day, his time at the ranch taking care of the horses, me discussing my classes in my graduate program. I was trying to learn French since I intended to become a citizen here at some point, but it was difficult. Sometimes I had Magnus speak to me i
n French to speed up the process, but it was frustrating most of the time.
When we were finished, he said, “Do you want to take a walk?”
“It’s pretty cold outside…” I looked out the window and saw the frost in the corners.
“We can get some coffee on the way.”
“Can we walk to the tower?”
He smiled as he got to his feet and cleared the plates. “I was hoping you would say that.”
He went upstairs to retrieve something, and when he came downstairs, he was holding his hardback copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. It was the French edition, so different from mine. Instead of leaving it on the counter, he brought it with us.
“You’re gonna carry that heavy book the whole time?”
“I just finished it. But we could talk about it.”
It had taken him forever to finish that book. It was massive, at least nine hundred pages, but I read much quicker than he did. It was one of my favorite books, so I didn’t mind having a conversation about it. “Sure.”
We left the apartment, got a couple coffees, and walked together down the sidewalk, discussing his favorite parts of the book. He would open it sometimes to find a favorite quote and read it to me.
He was already so sexy, but a man who read was even sexier.
We reached the grounds of the tower and walked together, our coffees almost finished because we’d drunk them too fast to stay warm.
“What was your favorite part and why?”
He looked ahead as he considered the question, the book at his side. “How determined he was to escape. He was fueled by vengeance rather than desire, but it still gave him the extraordinary ability to be patient and determined. Reminded me of you.”
I smiled as I looked up at the lights of the tower, remembering the way we met and treasuring the way we fell in love. It was a story no one else would ever have.
He moved to a garbage can and threw away his coffee. “Are you done with it?”
I took a final drink until it was empty and handed it over.
He tossed it inside and kept walking.
“Now how will I stay warm?” My hands moved into the pockets of my jacket.
His arm went around my waist, and he held me close as we walked. “Like this.”
My arm hooked around his waist, and I smiled up at him as we approached the base of the tower. And we stood there together, our warm breaths escaping as vapor into the dry air. We stood there together for a long time, just enjoying the moment.
I’d wanted my freedom so much, but the freedom with him was so much better than my solitude. He was the other half of my soul, the only person in the world who truly understood what I’d been through, the only person who really saw me. “I love you.” We weren’t one of those couples that said those words every time we parted, every time we went to sleep. We said it very rarely, but in those isolated moments, those words had more meaning.
He looked down at me but didn’t say it back. But he didn’t need to.
He dropped his arm from my waist and held out the book.
The trees around us were wrapped in white lights, and the cold kept other pedestrians away. We were the only people there, in the most romantic city in the world. It was like it belonged to just us.
I took the book from him and lifted my eyes to his face.
“I want you to have it.”
My eyes softened.
“I know I saved you. But you saved me too.”
My hand squeezed the book before I looked down at it, seeing the words in French that I could mostly translate. The story had been a beacon of hope in that small cabin, had been my guiding light in the dark. It meant the world to me.
I opened the book and saw the words in French. But as I flipped the pages and moved to the middle of the book, the weight felt different. It was much lighter, like the pages didn’t carry the same weight.
I continued to flip until I noticed the square hole cut into the second half of the book.
There was a box fitted inside, the lid removed.
And in the center was a ring.
I hadn’t experienced a jolt of adrenaline like that in a long time. My breathing went immediately haywire, like I was about to run. My pulse raced and pounded in my ears. I hadn’t expected this at all, so it really took me by surprise.
It was a single band, white gold. There were no diamonds. After giving away all his money, we didn’t have much left, let alone enough to buy a fancy diamond ring like what Melanie had.
That was what made this ring so special.
I pulled it out of the slot and closed the book. It reflected the lights from around us, reflected the emotional expression on my face. I turned the ring in my hands and saw the engraving on the inside.
Ma Petite Amie
I finally lifted my gaze and looked at him, my eyes wet and about to break like a dam.
His expression was focused and stern, but there was a special softness to his eyes, like he could feel how happy he’d just made me. He took the ring and placed it on my left ring finger, sliding over the knuckle until it fit in place. He didn’t ask me to marry him. The gesture itself made his feelings incredibly clear.
My arms wrapped around his neck, my hands still gripping the book, and I moved into him to kiss him in front of the Eiffel Tower, finding a family that I never really had. I’d never felt whole, never felt complete, and then I found this man, the hope in the dark, a man who had endured unspeakable pain for me.
He squeezed me and held me close, kissing me like he loved me, kissed me like I was the one thing he’d been waiting for. He loved me without having to say it, was the man I needed without having to ask. He was the one and only man I could spend forever with. And I knew I was the only woman who could ever make him happy.
Apart, we were both broken. But together, we were whole.
Also by Penelope Sky
It's complicated.
Am I allowed to say that?
Am I allowed to use that as an excuse to feel something toward the man that runs this place, is the reason I'm here in the first place, as well as my sister Raven?
They call him The Boss. I call him Fender.
And he calls me Beautiful.
I can tell myself I'm just using him to get what I want.
But we both know that's not true.
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