Chapter 12
Maxime
I let the dirty plate slide into the sink of my minimalist kitchenette. Tomorrow is the day. We will see each other again. I've been trying not to think about it for weeks, but it's getting harder with each passing day. This morning at breakfast, I caught myself imagining what might happen.
Will the tingling sensation return? Will she have that magnetic effect on me once more? What will she say? And what will I reply?
I'm filled with questions, questions without answers.
Even during my jog, it continued. During training. During meals. And even now, while doing the dishes. I clean the plate, rinse it, and place it on the blue-striped dishcloth beside the sink.
As many times before, when I've already pondered all of this, a heavy sigh escapes my lips. Because, in truth, it's not about finding answers to these questions. The crucial part is that I shouldn't be asking these questions in the first place.
David's words after the final meeting in theKongwere more than clear. If Madame Durand were to find out about the emotional chaos Aurora causes in me, it will be responsible for every one of my mistakes. And if I fail to stay away from Aurora,it could even be grounds for immediate termination. I checked my contract, and that's what it says.
I know that I must push these feelings aside. I will act as if they don't even exist. It will work; I'm sure of it. Difficulties left unattended fade away with time, like photos in the sunlight. That's always been the case and will remain so. I dry my hands, reach for the phone, and dial Mother's number. She's the perfect distraction from my jumbled thoughts.
As it rings, I walk to the window, draw back the curtain, and let my gaze wander. July has adorned the green of Parc des Buttes-Chaumont with splashes of color. Orange, yellow, and red flowers bloom brightly in the beds.
Amid the array of colors, I suddenly spot her. Aurora. She sits on a swing, gazing into the distance. A crackling sound reaches my ear.
"Bonjour."
How beautiful she is. Her dark hair cascades gently over her shoulders, her posture full of grace.
"Maxime?"
I wish I could see her face too, but she's too far away for me to discern any details. "Hello?"
If I were to go to her now, I could find out if her lips are truly as perfectly curved as my memory suggests.
"Always this stupid thing... is it finally broken? Hello?" Should I do it? And if so, what would I say to her when I stand before her? Just "bonjour"?
Somewhere, a loud ringtone blares. Oh yes, the call! Absentmindedly, I glance at the display. Was Maman calling just now? Or did she hang up on me? Distracted, I set my phone aside and look out again at Aurora.
What now?
Ignore it. That's the best approach.
Just as I'm about to turn away, she gets up from the swing and brushes off her jeans. With a determined posture, she leaves the playground and strides toward the grand alley that runs through the entire park.
She wants to leave.
On an uncontrollable impulse, I immediately turn around, rush to the apartment door, sprint down the two flights of stairs, and dash into the park.
Have I gone crazy?
I don't know. All I know is that I want to stop her. I have no idea why. Just because.
This is a damn bad idea, Maxime!
Damn, I know that.
"Aurora!" I call out as she finally comes into view. I rush toward her, and soon I'm close enough to see her swallow hard. Her gaze immediately drops to the ground when I stand out of breath before her.
"Where are your shoes?" she asks in her beautifully accented English, with a hint of Italian.
As soon as she says it, I feel the sharp pebbles pressing through my socks into the soles of my feet. Oh. Well, I guess that answers at least one of the unanswered questions. Yes, I have gone crazy. Clearly.
