left the view open down to the harbor and the ocean. There was even a grape vine over our heads. The last of the day’s light had spilled mercury across the blue ocean. On the terrace in front of us was a single linen covered table for two with a candle in a glass jar in the middle. Soft classical music played from somewhere unknown.
Cristo fussed and moved us toward the table. My mouth was open and I closed it. “It’s beautiful,” I told him sincerely.
Apparently he knew what that meant. “Beautiful, beautiful, si, si,” he said, delighted. He turned to Xavier, gesturing to the wall in the corner, explaining some kind of dumb waiter contraption and a bell before turning back to us and filling our wine glasses with the last of the carafe. Apparently, the upstairs table got the fancy cut crystal. It was old and heavy. Beautiful. After seating us, Cristo disappeared back down the stairs.
I looked around, still in awe. “This is … stunning.” The breeze was cooler up here and caressed my bare arms.
“It is. I had no idea.”
“Wait. This isn’t your special romance table?”
“I think I covered how much romance I’ve had recently,” he said tightly.
My gut thumped. “I’m sorry. They seem to have known you a long time. I—didn’t you bring your wife here?”
“I take it back about you being easy to be around. You’re challenging me tonight.” He chuckled and picked up his crystal glass. “Chin chin.”
“Cheers,” I returned carefully.
We both set our glasses down.
“The truth is I did bring her here. Not up here. This was never offered to me before. I didn’t know it existed. Arriette, she didn’t enjoy when I came to visit Corsica. Perhaps Cristo could tell.” His voice was low, and his eyes strayed to the left as if lost in memories.
“What really happened to her?” I whispered. “How did she die?”
His shoulders moved, and he slowly unfolded his arms, setting his palms on the table edge as if steadying himself. He looked down at his fingers. “The sordid stories say she partied too hard and overdosed.” His voice carried shame.
“And you?” I managed. “What do you believe?”
He looked at me with hesitation, with so much pain that my chest cinched tight. “I … I believe she took her own life,” he said. “I believe it was … deliberate.”
Shit. I let his truth hang out in the air between us, fighting the urge to refute it, to reassure him, to crawl across the table and hold him so fucking tight. “Today, when you saw me in the bathroom, you thought of her, didn’t you?” I asked quietly when I could breathe again.
He nodded then lifted his palms from the table with an inhale and reached for his wine. “So. Now you know. And I would like for you not to discuss it with anyone.”
“Of course,” I croaked and cleared my throat. “I would never. I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.” He grimaced. “If Dauphine had to think about the fact her mother didn’t love her daughter enough to stay alive, well, you can understand why we do not talk much about it.”
I picked at the hem of my dress as I quaked inside at his painful truth delivered so bluntly. And I’d bet he felt the same way—that she hadn’t loved him enough to stay alive either. No wonder he had trust issues. This was more than someone lying to you. This was trusting someone with your heart. With your life. With your daughter’s life. And it not being enough. My eyes stung and filled. I shook my head, blinking and looking out at the dark night view. I swiped a quick hand to my eyes before he could see. “Dauphine said you told her that sadness was a disease that people could die from. I think you have handled it well with her. It’s not that people who suffer don’t love their family enough,” I said slowly. “It’s that the disease is stronger.”
He gazed at me for a beat, and an understanding seemed to pass between us. “Are you real?” he asked softly, tossing my words from earlier tonight back at me far more poignantly.
There was a clang at the wall where the dumb waiter was. Cristo materialized out of the small roof door as if summoned, bearing a tray of goodies and breaking the morose atmosphere.
He set the food down on a cart that he wheeled over and began laying some of the dishes out on