“I’ll stand by you, always,” he says. “I’ll keep your secret safe. And you… you’ll be my cover.”
“What are you talking about, Philippe?”
I get the first part about him protecting my secret. He’s been doing that for six years now, and I’m infinitely grateful for it. But what was it about being hiscover?
“A cover for what?” I ask.
“For my, er… how shall I put it… unconventional sexuality.”
I blink at him.
“It’s a whole other conversation,” he says. “I won’t have it here.”
Is he gay? Asexual? A voyeur? Could he be—
Oh God, I won’t go there. This is my childhood friend! I won’t suspect him of being a sexual deviant or a pervert. For now, I’ll just assume he’s gay.
He takes a deep breath. “What matters is that if we’re united, open and honest with each other, we can be invincible. That’s how our parents’ marriages work. It’s the way, Stella.”
It’s the way.He sounds almost religious now.
Wait, could he be a real believer in our parents’ little cult?How can I find out without giving myself away?
“Do you mean having multiple partners?” I ask.
He seems taken aback. “Why would you say that?’
“My mom recently hinted at something like that, when I shared my doubts about marrying you.”
“Ah. I see.”
“It won’t work for me, Philippe! Call me old-fashioned, romantic or prudish; I don’t care. But I’d rather be alone than in a sham marriage.”
“The term is ‘open marriage’,” he mutters.
“I don’t see the difference.”
“You have no idea how wrong you are, Stella!” he exclaims, riled up. “Our parents’ marriages are anything but shams. They’re real and beautiful. True unions of enlightened souls.”
He’s into the Mage cult.“If you say so…”
“Physical attraction has nothing to do with a couple’s bond, which is based on shared beliefs, ambitions, and…secrets.”
I beg to disagree.
He sits back, rolling his shoulders. “I suggest we don’t decide anything right now, OK? Let’s give it a month or two. That man you met might break your heart in the meantime.”
Yes, he might.
“Be sure to never open up to him,” Philippe warns me.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”
We finish our mulled wine without uttering another word. In silence, we pay, go to the car, and return to Vosier-en-Haut.
In my bed at last, I admit that there’s one thing Philippe is right about. When a shared secret is big and bad enough, it does create a powerful bond. The bigger the secret, the stronger the bond, which makes the one between us titanium.
STELLA
