the summer.”
I don’t say anything to that, I can’t, I just watch as he walks around the couch and opens the door. “See you in the morning,” he says and then leaves.
After the door clicks shut, all the air comes back into my lungs.
“You could have been a lot more appreciative,” my mother scolds me, picking up the pot of tea and Gautier’s mug and going back in the kitchen.
I’m tired of being so speechless this evening, but I really don’t know what to say, so I follow my mother into the kitchen, bringing her the other two mugs, my legs feeling weak and shaky.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, knowing I have to be a sweet girl if I want to win this. I wash the mugs in the sink. “I’m just tired, you were right.”
She makes a tsking sound. “He’s the master of the house. He’s the Dumont company now. After his poor brother died and then his son disowned him and moved, he’s been through so much, and yet he’s the one who has the whole company riding on his shoulders.”
Actually, Pascal does, I think. I happen to know that the trip Gautier took had nothing to do with business at all. Something private. I’m guessing a whore he can beat up and toss around.
He might be making fewer trips now that you’re back in the picture.
My stomach burns at the thought.
No matter what, that can’t happen.
I can’t go through that again.
I won’t.
“It wouldn’t kill you to be nicer to him,” she goes on. “After all, he allowed you to come back.”
“It wasn’t up to him, it was Pascal.”
“And do you think Pascal has the final say in this house? At any rate, you should be on your knees, groveling for forgiveness. Blame it on being a teenager and being stupid and emotional, whatever you wish. But you attacked him and slandered him, and he is such a good, good man to let you back here to work in this place.”
I stare at her, trying to find something in her that is rooted in reality, the real one, not the one she’s created in her head for herself. “Do you really believe that?” I ask quietly.
She looks stunned, like I slapped her. “Of course I do. It’s not a matter of belief, it’s just fact. You were a very troubled girl, Gabby, though I suppose that was all your father’s fault. The things he would say to you were just awful.”
“Mama, he beat you until you were bleeding, black and blue.”
She gives me a stiff smile and pours the tea in the sink as she shrugs. “He did, but that’s why it was so magical, so wonderful, that Gautier happened to see me at the hotel that one day. He saw the bruises. He wanted to know who did this to me. He promised us freedom, that we could escape from your father. And we did. He is our savior, and you can never, ever forget it. I know I never will.” She pauses. “That’s why I’m still here.” Her gaze fixes me with a determination that’s unnerving. “That’s why I’ll never, ever leave.”
Then she turns away from me and starts to tidy up, even though there’s nothing to tidy, even though that’s all her life is now. Tidying up for the people she believes saved her when all they did was lock her up and throw away the key. Their trick was to make her think she deserved it.
“Good night, Mama,” I tell her and then head back to my room, my heart heavy with all the impossible things. I’m too exhausted and strung out to even change my clothes, so I flick off the lights and head right to my bed.
I get under the covers and lie back, trying to process what just happened and how hopeless it’s going to be to pull my mom away from the situation, when I notice movement outside the window.
I sit up and find myself looking right across the lawn at a lit window on the second floor.
Pascal’s window.
And to my surprise, he’s standing there.
Except he’s not alone.
He’s with some woman with long dark hair and big breasts.
I recognize her as the front-desk girl at the hotel.
Aurelie.
And she’s completely naked, her breasts and the side of her face pressed up against the glass, palms wide and flat to brace herself as Pascal fucks her from behind.
I immediately look away, my cheeks flushing, knowing I saw something I wasn’t supposed to