Page 28 of With You

I stand next to the table, the fireplace warming my leg as soon as I do. The lights are low in the evening, the room only brightened by the lamps dotted around it. The slow-burning fire casts a soft glow and provides just the right amount of heat on these fall nights.

“What do you want?” she asks without even looking at me.

“Can we talk?”

“I think we’ve done more than enough of that,” Amelie says, glancing up at me through her eyelashes before turning her attention back to the board again.

“I’d like to apologise for my behaviour recently,” I say, and that gets her.

“Sit down, River.”

I sit.

“Don’t you ever wear anything else?” she says, remarking on my white shirt.

“You’re one to talk,” I nod toward her all-pink ensemble.

“I thought you were here to apologise, not comment on my outfit.”

I can’t stop the huff of air that escapes me. Even when we’re trying to be nice to each other, we still have to go through this back-and-forth.

“I’m sorry for not responding to you in the car last night,” I start. “And for blowing up at you when you wanted to practice more. I’m sorry if it affected your performance in any way.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You could never have an impact on my performance like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive.”

“Okay, so there’s no reason at all why you slowed down as soon as I told you to. Got it.”

Her tongue pokes into the side of her cheek as she rolls her jaw. There it is. I’m under her skin as much as she is mine. We’re back to normal.

Amelie reaches under the table, her hand patting my knee sympathetically.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, mon cœur.”

I don’t like how much I enjoyed that.

I straighten in my chair, my hands drifting to the board as I reset the pieces from her solo game when a thought occurs to me.

“Let’s try something.”

“You and your wonderful ideas,” she says, sarcastically.

“We did fine during the audition, but we both know we’re capable of more than that.” Amelie nods in agreement as I continue. “Clearly we both have some misconceptions about each other.”

“That’s one way to put it,” she mutters, still wanting to fight back.

“I think a lot of our problems could be solved if we knew each other better. Get rid of all the assumptions we have about each other, and start from the beginning.”

“I know your name and birthday and unfortunately that’s already far more information than I need.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” I tell her. “I understand we do this thing where we pretend to hate each other, but deep down I know you don’t.”

“That’s a big claim to make.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”