The Camp (Chateau 2)

I came closer to her and placed my hands on the backs of her arms so she would know I was there.

The second she felt me, she stopped breathing.

I moved until my head rested against the back of hers.

She took a few moments to slow her breathing, to return herself to calm, to get the hot tears out of her throat so she could speak. “Who is she?”

I took my time composing a response because I’d never had to give an answer like this before, never wanted to answer a lover’s intrusive question. “An on-again, off-again physical relationship. We were off when I was at the camp, and then when you burned it down, we were on again…and then off when you came back.” I’d always known Stasia had an ulterior motive with me, but she was easy sex, good sex, so I’d let her come back to me. “But we’re off for good now.”

She didn’t turn around.

I waited for her to say something, to turn around and brush off what she heard.

But she didn’t.

“It’s not true, Raven. You know it’s not.”

She still didn’t move into me.

My brother had made some comments, but he was an asshole, at least when it came to women. Anything less than perfect wasn’t good enough for him.

Raven finally turned around, letting me see her puffy eyes, the pain still etched into her features, her ruined makeup because she had cried hard enough to make it run like black rivers down her face. “My whole life, Melanie has always been the pretty one. Every guy I liked would like her instead. If I met someone without her around, we’d hit it off…but then they would meet her, and it was always obvious they were more attracted to her than me. I’ve just been compared to her my entire life, and it hurts.”

I’d never understood Fender’s fascination with Melanie when she was so unremarkable, but I didn’t say that…because Raven probably wouldn’t believe me.

“When I moved to Paris, it was liberating. She was never there for comparison, and I met guys in bars and had a great time…but I always had that chip on my shoulder.” Her eyes were slightly down, looking at my chin like she was too self-conscious to look me in the eye. “And then, that woman is far more beautiful than I’ll ever be. And you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on… I’ve always known that you’re out of my league.”

My eyes narrowed because I couldn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “What did I say to her?”

She kept her gaze down.

My hand moved under her chin, and I forced her to lift her gaze and look me in the eye.

Her eyes started to water more, like she might cry again.

“What did I say to her?” I whispered.

When she blinked, new tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen…”

“And I meant it.” It hurt me to see her like this, to have her ever feel inferior to a woman with half the brains, half the courage, and a fraction of her looks. Raven had a glow in her eyes that reminded me of the brightest stars in the night sky even on a cloudy night…because they were that luminous. There was no comparison, and there never had been one.

“I know…” Her hands moved to my chest, her fingers feeling the buttons of my tuxedo shirt. “It’s the first time in my life that I have a man who thinks I’m the pretty one…who only notices me and not her…and I never thought that would happen.” When she blinked, her tears fell down her wet cheeks. “I don’t have to compete with her. I don’t have to compete with anyone. Because you see me…you really see me.”

Now I finally understood why she’d come out here to be alone, finally understood what her tears really meant. They grew from heartbreak. And then they fell down her cheeks for a different reason altogether. “Ma petite amie…” My girlfriend. My hands cupped her face, and I wiped her tears away with my thumbs, cradling her face in my embrace. “You see me too.”

Twenty-Four

The Slap

Two weeks away from the camp had never been enough, and now it felt like even less time with Raven. The first day at the apartment was always a rough transition. We were tired from the long journey, and the dirt was still deep underneath our fingertips because only an intense scrubbing could clear it away. But the following day…the camp felt like a distant memory.

It gave us two different lives.

The one in Paris was one…and the camp was another.

I lay on the couch with the TV on, Raven cuddled into my side in my t-shirt, one arm over my stomach while her leg was tucked between my knees. Her soft hair was always against my skin, gently tickling it, taunting me.