The Camp (Chateau 2)

I loved her pure heart, her integrity, and her morality. I loved that she stood up for what she believed in, no matter the adversity. She was strong, brave, fierce. This was the woman I wanted to raise my daughters to be the same way, to raise my sons to look for a woman who didn’t need a man at all, but wanted one all the same. I’d had no idea what I was really looking for in a partner until I found it. “You make me happy.”

Her eyes softened.

“I didn’t just give away my money. I gave away my rage, my vengeance. I gave away my broken heart because a whole one took its place. I didn’t just find happiness with you, but also peace. You gave me peace.”

Epilogue

Raven

I unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment. My bag was over my shoulder, full of textbooks and my notebook. I locked the door behind me and set the bag on the counter. The dishes were done, the apartment was clean, and there was dinner cooking on the stove. “I’m home!”

His voice came from upstairs. “Just got out of the shower.”

I took a peek at dinner and even stuck my fork inside to get a few bites before I grabbed a couple plates and set them at the small dining table near the window. It was a cold night, Christmas just a few weeks away. Our tree was in the corner, decorated with white lights and shiny ornaments.

He came downstairs a few minutes later, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

“Thanks for making dinner. Smells great.”

“And tastes great, right?” He gave me a playful stare, like he knew I’d snuck a bite.

“I mean…I was just checking to see if it was done.”

He chuckled and came in close to wrap his arms around me before he gave me a kiss.

My arms wrapped around his neck, and I held him tightly, feeling those lips convey all his love.

He pulled away and turned to the stove.

I knew how happy he was every day. He didn’t explicitly say it, but it was obvious in his features, in his lovely smile. It was a side to him I never knew at the camp, never knew outside this apartment.

He served dinner, and together we set the table and ate. We shared the events of our day, his time at the ranch taking care of the horses, me discussing my classes in my graduate program. I was trying to learn French since I intended to become a citizen here at some point, but it was difficult. Sometimes I had Magnus speak to me in French to speed up the process, but it was frustrating most of the time.

When we were finished, he said, “Do you want to take a walk?”

“It’s pretty cold outside…” I looked out the window and saw the frost in the corners.

“We can get some coffee on the way.”

“Can we walk to the tower?”

He smiled as he got to his feet and cleared the plates. “I was hoping you would say that.”

He went upstairs to retrieve something, and when he came downstairs, he was holding his hardback copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. It was the French edition, so different from mine. Instead of leaving it on the counter, he brought it with us.

“You’re gonna carry that heavy book the whole time?”

“I just finished it. But we could talk about it.”

It had taken him forever to finish that book. It was massive, at least nine hundred pages, but I read much quicker than he did. It was one of my favorite books, so I didn’t mind having a conversation about it. “Sure.”

We left the apartment, got a couple coffees, and walked together down the sidewalk, discussing his favorite parts of the book. He would open it sometimes to find a favorite quote and read it to me.

He was already so sexy, but a man who read was even sexier.

We reached the grounds of the tower and walked together, our coffees almost finished because we’d drunk them too fast to stay warm.

“What was your favorite part and why?”

He looked ahead as he considered the question, the book at his side. “How determined he was to escape. He was fueled by vengeance rather than desire, but it still gave him the extraordinary ability to be patient and determined. Reminded me of you.”

I smiled as I looked up at the lights of the tower, remembering the way we met and treasuring the way we fell in love. It was a story no one else would ever have.

He moved to a garbage can and threw away his coffee. “Are you done with it?”

I took a final drink until it was empty and handed it over.

He tossed it inside and kept walking.

“Now how will I stay warm?” My hands moved into the pockets of my jacket.