Page 93 of The Hundred Loves of Juliet
SEBASTIEN
I wake to find Helenegone. She left a note, but dismay descends upon me anyway—she didn’t say “I love you” before she left. I try not to demand much of her, but this is one small thing that’s incredibly important to me. Because every time one of us leaves—to shovel the driveway, to get the mail, to run an errand—it might be the last time we see each other. She could slip and fall on ice and die, or be hit by a truck, or any number of horrible scenarios.
Am I paranoid? Yes. History has conditioned me so. But saying “I love you” before leaving at least ensures that, if the curse strikes while we’re apart, those will be our last words to each other. Not, “Do you want me to pick up some bread at the store?” or, “Remember to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer.”
But Helene forgot.
Dread, however, quickly replaces dismay. How long has she been gone?Didsomething happen to her?
I’m throwing on my clothes as fast as I can to go out searching for her when Helene flies onto the houseboat, into the bedroom, with a smile that could light up the entire continent.
I rush to her and sweep her into my arms. “Thank god you’re all right.”
“Oh no,” she says, “I didn’t want you to worry. I left you a note.”
“I know. I’m sorry I panicked,” I say, holding her tighter and kissing the top of her head. I memorize the feel of her cradled against me, the way she shifts to fit even closer against me. The smell of her almond shampoo. The sound of her breath, still coming quickly like a little bird’s because she’d been running. The fear from earlier still clings to me, and I hoard these details of Helene, just in case.
“Shh,” she says softly. “I’m here with you.”
For now,I can’t help but think.
She lets us stand together like this for a minute, knowing that I need it. I’m so grateful for these small kindnesses.
Finally, when I’m grounded in reality again, I release her, giving her one more kiss.
“It looks like you’re feeling better today,” I say. “No more seasickness?”
“No more seasickness. And I have something exciting to tell you.” She grins. “But you should sit down.”
“Er, okay.” I sit as directed.
She clasps her hands in front of her face as she bounces in place. Her skin glows, her eyes sparkle, and even her hair seems fuller and silkier in the morning sunlight. I wait on the edge of the bed.
After a minute, though, Helene still hasn’t said anything.
I laugh, buoyed by her mood. “Are you planning to actually tell me, or are you just going to spend the rest of the morning like a pogo stick?”
Blushing, she stops bouncing, although the energy simply transfers to her fingertips fluttering.
“Okay, remember how I felt sick yesterday?” she asks.
“Yes, we were just talking about that…”
“Oh, right. Well, also, you know how I’ve been getting fatter?”
“I like soft curves.”
Helene waves away what I’m saying, like it’s beside the point. “Anyway, it’s a fact that I’ve gained weight. But I guess I’m glad you like it, because I’m going to gain even more.”
I shake my head, not following.
“We’re going to have a baby!” She throws her arms in the air like we’ve just won the jackpot on a game show.
I stare at her. “What do you mean?”
Helene smiles, like she’s amused at how slow men can be sometimes. She sits in my lap and puts my hand on her stomach. “I’m pregnant, Sebastien. My nausea was morning—or afternoon—sickness.”
“No,” I say.
