Page 28 of Only You

Paris

From her bedroom window, Sabine could see the preparations for her wedding underway in the garden.

Lamont wanted to go all out for the celebration.

It wasn’t surprising; she was used to her future husband’s lavish taste by now.

Today, it was simply magnified, especially thanks to her father’s suggestion that the wedding venue be changed to the Laurents’ estate to truly ‘make a statement’.

Arrangements were quickly adjusted and expanded. More flowers, more food, and more guests. The French may supposedly be private about their weddings, but she would not be surprised if the entire city knew all the details of the affair.

She was sure many would be envious of the layered bright white gown she wore.

It had a high collar, and sleeves buttoned at her wrist. Jewels randomly adorned the full, lace-covered skirt.

The only adornment left off were ruffles – a small victory on her part.

She picked at the skirt, barely looking at herself in the mirror.

She was more than happy to close her eyes as Madame Roulet pinned the veil in her hair, letting the fabric fall over her face carefully.

She couldn’t help but think about how her hair was down for once, the curls falling down her back past her shoulders. It looked just like it had in the rain… she turned away from her reflection.

‘Beautiful,’ Madame Rolet said, and Sandra agreed with happy tears in her eyes.

Sabine didn’t bother mustering a matching smile.

She was doing her duty, but she wouldn’t walk into it with a smile.

It was the only thing her father couldn’t force her to do.

Her lack of enthusiasm permeated into the atmosphere and Madame Roulet shifted awkwardly.

‘Sandra, could you see if they are ready to start?’

The maid nodded, quickly disappearing out the door.

Only when the door closed did Madame Roulet return her attention to Sabine.

She went to the vanity in the corner of the room – Sabine’s future room – and grabbed a handkerchief out of her bag.

She lifted the veil and dabbed gently under Sabine’s eyes.

Sabine blinked in surprise before touching her face.

She hadn’t realised she was crying.

She was about to scrub her face but Madame Roulet stopped her hands, squeezing them tightly while giving her a pitying look.

It was something she had done since the day Damien left.

No doubt the general had informed her of what had happened, which was embarrassing in one way and devastating in another.

Yet, Madame Roulet said nothing, taking over as much of the wedding preparations as possible.

It was the only thing she could do and Sabine tried her best to appreciate it.

‘We have to put on the gloves now,’ Madame Roulet reminded gently. Sabine nodded solemnly, letting go. She slipped on the white silk gloves that were waiting on a table nearby. Her outfit was complete just as there was a knock on the door.

‘Madame, they’re ready,’ Sandra said through the door.

Madame Roulet motioned to the door, eyes more despondent than she thought possible for the lively woman. ‘Shall we?’

There was only one answer.

The wedding was beautiful, a perfect and traditional French affair.

Sabine looked beautiful in her snow-white dress and diamond encrusted jewellery, courtesy of Madame Laurent.

Lamont looked equally handsome, wearing a formal black suit and white shirt.

She contemplated the unintentional black-and-white theme of her wedding.

All she could see was the contrast. Light and dark.

Foreign and domestic. Before and after, one becoming the other after all papers were signed and the chaste kiss the ceremony called for.

They quickly transitioned to the le vin d’honneur , a dazzling reception in the ballroom.

Tables were laden with wine and gifts despite it being so early in the day.

People milled around in their finest as they drank glasses of champagne.

Every person she passed congratulated her on a marvellous event, stating how beautiful she looked in her dress.

She barely had enough time to thank them before she was being pulled along to meet someone new.

It was dizzying and the wine did nothing to help the sickness in her stomach.

‘Excuse me, Madame Laurent,’ a familiar voice spoke from behind her. Sabine whipped around quickly, freezing when she spotted her father with a proud look on his face.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Father.’

Her cold reception took him aback, but he quickly adjusted his expression to that of a joyous father.

She could probably blame the alcohol for her lack of fear as he approached.

Or maybe it was the finality that erased any intimidation she would have felt otherwise.

Her father took the glass from her hand as he kissed her temple.

‘Should I be concerned with how much you’re drinking?’ he continued quietly under his breath.

‘It’s a party,’ she said through her teeth. ‘One you have arranged perfectly.’

‘Sabine, smile,’ he warned. ‘It’s your wedding day.’

She scoffed. ‘I’ve secured your business ventures. Now, all I have to do is force a baby out and I’ll have used up all my importance for everyone in this room. Enjoy the dinner.’ She started to step away when her father pulled her back.

‘You don’t talk like that to me, Sabine,’ he snapped under his breath.

She stared daggers at him, truly offended at the insinuation that she was still his to control. ‘Madame Laurent,’ she corrected. ‘I now have more power than you. And after tonight I will use it to make sure I never have to see you again.’

‘Sabine.’

‘I will never forgive you,’ she whispered. Her father’s eyes widened and his grip loosened. She ripped her arm from his and stepped back from him. She hoped he could see that her loyalty was gone. She was free to hate him as much as she wanted.

The tense moment was interrupted when Lamont came over.

‘Kwame!’ He clapped his hand on her father’s shoulder and she saw her father’s jaw tighten. ‘I see you’ve caught up with my bride. She is the most gorgeous thing in Paris, is she not?’ Lamont stumbled over to her to sloppily kiss her cheek. Sabine stiffened from the kiss, nudging him off her.

‘Did you need something… dear?’ she asked.

‘Yes, actually. Kwame, my father asked for you to meet in his study for a cigar,’ Lamont said, looking around. ‘Ah, Gabriel!’

Her husband disappeared in the crowd and she stared at the ground, the humiliation of being tied to him sobering her.

‘You should go,’ she told her father. He was silent before kissing her forehead, a lingering touch that made her ball her fists.

‘You look beautiful, Ama.’ Tears filled her eyes, but she held them back as he walked away. She stood awkwardly in the crowd for a moment before exiting the party.

She found herself wandering the courtyard, the din of the celebration in the background.

It was ironic; so many people were here to celebrate and even her husband didn’t notice her absence.

She looked at her reflection in one of the fountains scattered about and sighed. She barely recognised herself anymore.

She perked up at the sound of footsteps behind her but didn’t turn.

Instead, she wandered behind a tree, pulling out her father’s dagger she now always carried with her, a reminder of her greatest mistake.

When she heard the soft footsteps draw near, she moved to press the knife to the person’s neck, but they caught her wrist.

‘Glad to know you didn’t forget your self-defence lessons.’

Any words died in her throat as she saw Damien standing in front of her, gripping her wrist.

It had only been two weeks, the longest of her life.

It felt like their lessons and the stolen kisses were memories from years before.

She remembered his carefree smiles as they talked in her room, moonlight streaming through the windows.

Then, suddenly, she had nothing to remember him by, just her heartbreak to know it was real; her ruby bracelet had gone missing.

Of course, not much had changed in their time apart. He was the same charismatic soldier that could command or blend into any room he wanted. His eyes on the other hand… they belonged to a stranger.

Dropping the knife, she stepped out of the shadows. ‘Damien,’ she said surprised. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I begged Roulet to let me come. I needed to see it for myself,’ he answered.

Sabine flushed in shame and embarrassment. ‘Right,’ she said before stepping back, tugging her wrist out of his loose grip. She cleared her throat awkwardly. ‘I… didn’t expect to see you again,’ she told him. ‘I wasn’t sure if you had returned to your post.’

‘I did,’ he said. ‘I’m actually a commandant now, much to Roulet’s pleasure.’

Sabine nodded, not sure what else to say. She could only reflect on the irony of them being in the exact positions they fought so hard against.

‘You look beautiful,’ Damien said stiffly.

Warmth gathered in Sabine’s chest. It must have been hard for him to say. ‘Thank you,’ she answered. ‘I have to admit I prefer this uniform. It suits you.’

Damien smirked before touching the bright red sash that hung across his chest, and Sabine laughed quietly. His expression sobered at the sound. ‘Are you happy?’

Her smile left, and she looked at the ground. ‘I am… satisfied,’ she answered, her smile becoming strained. ‘I made the correct choice.’

‘Your mouth says as much.’ He stepped closer to her, and she wondered if he would touch her, her nerves tingling in anticipation. At the last moment, he stepped around her. ‘But your eyes do not,’ he whispered.

Sabine’s face fell as memories of the last few weeks flooded her mind, how bleak they were. She clenched her hands into fists and composed herself.

‘Well, either way, it’s no longer your concern,’ she replied.