The Beautiful Ones - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,53
you, once.”
“Oh, but you came back. Twice and thrice and all those other times for her.”
She drew her hands from her face and looked at him. His eyes were not the same as they’d been in his youth, darker perhaps, drawn with pain. And his mouth, it was stiff and recriminating.
“There’s comfort in being cherished by someone, even if it is not the person you want,” he said. “If you loved me but for a moment, I would—”
“Do not dare to ask me to love you. I never stopped doing it,” she said, and wished to roar the words but they came out in a whisper.
He took a shaky breath and stared at her. If only he had changed more. If only. But she could still see the boy he’d been in his face, hardships and anger unable to drown him completely. And it was this detail that drew her closer to him.
“Valérie, I told you once I’d take you away, and I can keep that promise. We can leave right this instant, you and I,” he said with smothering sincerity; it made her shiver and she had to sit down on a sturdy chair.
He approached her slowly, as if he was afraid she’d bolt, kneeling by her side, holding her hands between his own.
“Why should we despair? The world is vaster than Loisail. I shall buy you a house of your choice, wherever you want. We’ll make a new life. We can be together as we planned all along.”
“In another city! Under an assumed name because I could not utter my family’s name without dying of shame.”
“You can have my name.”
She could not make her hands be still, the fingers trembling, and she had to shove his hands away because his touch only made them tremble more.
What a pretty fantasy he spun, as only Hector might spin, but she knew at once it could not be. She could not vanquish the chains of reality, could she?
“I will always be a Véries,” she said, but her words were almost tentative. “Oh, the shame. The things they would say … Valérie Véries, ruined. It would all be ruined.”
He rose then, cursing her under his breath. His anger gave her the fuel she needed to spark her own rage, and she was grateful. Engulfed with blazing fury, she felt she stood on firmer ground. The words, the reasons, everything came to her easily now.
“You think it is that simple? To bring dishonor to my family? You think I can throw away everything I have ever worked for? You have no understanding of the world. You are as you always were, with your head in the clouds. You do tricks for adoring crowds onstage and forget that it is not all artifice and sleight of hand when you step off. The pauper does not get the princess, Hector Auvray.”
He was comely in his intensity and even comelier as her words struck him, making him lose his grip.
“Artifice, when you are the liar! God, of course you are a liar,” he said.
He paced in front of her, all bitterness and spite. She rested her hands against the arms of the chair, holding tight to it. She wanted to reduce the room to ashes and had to content herself with biting her lips.
“You did not intend to run away with me,” he said, turning to her with narrowed eyes. “You said the words but did not mean them. It was a silly affair for you. You would not have gone with me, would you? Even if I had returned with all the gold in the world, you would not have gone with me.
“You liar,” he said, leaning down suddenly against her arms, against the chair, and looking down at her.
There was untold cruelty in those words, they sliced against her like scissors tearing through paper, and Valérie could not help herself—she spoke.
“I would have gone with you. If you had returned without a single coin in your pockets, I would have gone with you all the same. That is why I married Gaétan. Because I was ready to throw everything away for you. My name and my honor and my family. No one—no one, you hear me—can have that power over me.”
He stared at her, disbelieving. She stared back. She knew he wanted to deny it, to blot out the truth, but it could not be denied, and he believed. He finally understood. She saw him crumble before her, his eyes bright with tears, his