Page 25 of Only You

Paris

Madame Roulet was right when she said that having something to fight for changed everything.

Now that Sabine knew she was going to run away, she was able to endure the last of the wedding preparations, spending time with Lamont, and could even ignore Genevieve much more effectively.

Every night she would sort through her trousseau and pick out the most valuable pieces, wrapping jewellery and expensive but light linens in the kita cloth she brought, knowing she could strap it across her chest and hide it under her coat.

The days seemed to slow down the closer she got to Wednesdays, the nights over too soon after being in Damien’s arms. While she struggled to hide her excitement, her sudden ‘glow’ being explained away with her upcoming nuptials.

It was finally happening. She was going to have a chance to breathe, to be in love.

To live.

‘I can’t believe you had Francois by his last franc,’ Damien said as they walked towards the city centre. ‘How did you manage to learn cards?’

‘Madame Roulet has many ways to entertain herself,’ she said, fanning herself with her hat. ‘Plus, after a few rounds of watching, anyone can pick up on how to play.’

‘Your domination was incredible to watch, my love. I think you broke him,’ Damien complimented as he kissed the back of her hand.

Sabine laughed, throwing her head back. ‘My God, I gave his money back! He shouldn’t gamble if he isn’t prepared to lose,’ she reasoned.

‘But lady luck was shining down on you and cards are the ultimate temptress. Who was he to resist?’ He grabbed her by the waist suddenly and Sabine let herself be pulled in, smiling against his lips as he kissed her. Damien pulled away a bit, eyes lustful. ‘I, for one, cannot imagine.’

‘Not even a little?’ she teased, stealing a quick kiss.

Damien looked her up and down, forlorn. He dipped down to kiss her neck and up to her ear. ‘Not again,’ he whispered.

She wrapped her arms around him and sighed happily, glad she didn’t have to worry about drawing eyes.

They had met by the river again and Damien greeted her with a wide grin.

After weeks of planning, he had figured out their escape.

They would go to Tunisia, where they could blend in with the newly educated French citizens starting a new life.

He had a friend on the ship that would sneak them on board and papers that would be good enough to establish new identities when they arrived.

The ship would leave the day after next, and Sabine hadn’t hesitated to say yes.

To celebrate, he took her to a pool hall on a side of town where rumours wouldn’t get back to Roulet. They drank and gambled the night away. She wasn’t nervous; she only brought a few coins, with all her other valuables tucked away under her bed.

She felt like she would start floating at any moment with how giddy she felt.

The only thing that kept her on the ground was Damien’s arms around her, shielding her from the cold evening breeze.

What she wouldn’t give to call this man her husband.

She opened her mouth to tease him about marriage when Damien’s head snapped to look over his shoulder.

‘What?’ she asked, caressing his face with the back of her hand, coaxing him to meet her gaze. ‘What is it?’

His eyes stayed narrowed on the scene at the end of the street, two protestors screaming at the officer, who raised his weapon towards them.

Damien turned her away just as the sky above them rumbled.

Sabine was about to dismiss it, since it had been windy and grey all day.

Then, she felt a droplet hit her hair. She automatically moved her hands over her head, ducking down.

Damien led them out of the middle of the street.

The rain picked up quickly, turning into a downpour by the time they found a dark doorway to duck into.

‘Well, that won’t let up soon,’ she commented, looking at the pouring rain. She heard Damien chuckling and turned to him. ‘What?’

He tried to control his laughter as he pointed at her hair.

She touched it before gasping in horror.

The lovely high bun she had created earlier was a ruined, lumpy mess.

She groaned as she let her hair down; she refused to look like a lunatic in the street.

Just as she set about braiding it, Damien shifted closer to her. ‘You better not tease me,’ she warned.

‘Why don’t you let your hair down more?’

Sabine slowed her braiding, self-consciously looking at the ends. ‘It’s… a bit unruly. The curls don’t fall quite right, so I’d rather pin it up.’

‘Just how much do you have to hide?’

Biting her lip, she let go of her hair to wrap her arms around herself, the question stripping her bare. When she thought of all the things she had kept tucked away – her looks, her mind, her mannerisms, her culture and her past – she wondered what was left for her to show.

‘Everything,’ she admitted, clearing her throat awkwardly. ‘I’m sure you can understand.’

Damien shrugged and tucked a stray stand into place. ‘I don’t think there’s enough to me to hide something,’ he said.

Sabine looked at him in disbelief. ‘Standing in front of me is a man so loyal he’s willing to give up everything for that which he considers worthy. Surely, there’s more to a man like that.’ She tapped the tip of his nose. ‘You just haven’t gotten to know him yet.’

He caught her wrist and kissed her finger. Sabine’s face flushed at the sudden intimate gesture.

Damien stared with half-lidded eyes. ‘The papers for when we leave… we share a last name.’ He swallowed nervously but kept his eyes on her. ‘Is that okay?’

Sparks skittered across her skin, joy making her heart feel as though it was about to beat out of her chest. She decided in that moment that those were the most romantic words she had ever heard.

‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly.

She wasn’t sure who stepped forward first but suddenly they were wrapped up in each other, her braid unwinding as she cupped his face.

She ran her fingers down his chest, pulling on his jacket and walking backwards until she hit the wall.

Damien didn’t relent for a moment as his lips pushed and pulled against hers.

She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, gasping against his lips as she felt him lift her from the ground. She clung to his shoulders, kissing his neck, her teeth settling into his skin as she heard him loosen his belt.

The rain beat heavily over their heads, but they could barely hear it over their own intimate sounds.

Sabine struggled to catch her breath as he moved within her, slow and steady with an occasional snap of his hips that made her gasp.

She was practically shaking out of her skin and every touch from him felt like he was the only thing keeping her in one piece, as if she would fall apart the moment he let go.

She clung to him, her nails digging into her palm even through the fabric of his shirt.

Every whisper of his name was a plea to keep him for just one more moment, just one more day. Every breath that caressed her skin was a miracle, the way his unrelenting warmth shielded her from the chilling water was bliss.

There was no price she wouldn’t pay for more moments like this.

Though she was sure Madame and General Roulet had retired for the night, Sabine had her excuse ready as she entered the house. Surely, waiting out the rain would be reasonable enough. However, the words died on her lips as she stepped into the living room.

The fireplace roared, a very dapper guest seated in front of it, calmly reading. Her skin suddenly felt cold, and her hands began to shake. She clenched them into fists to hide her fear and approached them.

‘Father,’ she greeted.

Kwame Kouassi looked up from his book and smiled at her, but she saw an edge to it that made her heart race. He was furious.

‘I see you got caught in the rain,’ he noted calmly. He clicked his tongue as he set the book aside. ‘Although you seemed to have dressed for it.’

Her face flushed as she remembered she was wearing a peasant dress, skipping her usual stop at the inn to return sooner. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked as he stood. ‘Your letters didn’t mention a visit.’

‘I thought I would surprise you,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘It seems I’ve stumbled upon a few surprises of my own. Did you miss me, mon trésor ?’

‘Yes,’ Sabine forced out. ‘I’m merely… shocked. I can’t believe you’re here. H–How was your trip?’

‘Perfect. Blue skies and good winds until this afternoon, but luckily, we avoided the worst of it. Don’t worry, Sabine. We can play host and guest after our business.’

‘Our business?’

‘Of course. As we speak, Cadieux is fetching an important guest. Or rather a familiar confidant, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Father—’ Sabine jumped as a door opened suddenly.

‘Ah, here he is.’ Sabine shrunk back from the sharpness in his cruel smile.

‘Father, please…’ she said under her breath, but he ignored her, clasping his hands together loudly as Damien stepped inside the room.

She flinched at the sharp sound but didn’t dare look away from the scene unfolding before her.

Though Damien was soaked by the rain like her, he walked with confidence, standing tall in front of her father despite the tension in the room.

Even Cadieux, who lingered in the corner, looked wary.

‘Mr Kouassi.’ Damien bowed his head slightly. ‘Welcome back to Paris. You look well.’

‘Seems you were caught in the same storm as my daughter,’ her father replied.

Sabine bit the inside of her cheek, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. Her mind raced for ways to distract her father but quickly descended into panic.

Don’t react , she recited. Don’t show anything. Don’t react to anything. Her father looked between the two of them before chuckling, the sound sending a chill down her spine.