Page 68 of Enemies to French Kisses
She inhales loudly and so deep that I wonder how her chest can hold all of that air. She pulls her eyebrows so close together that they might turn into an eye and hit me right between the eyes. Her voice rumbles low. “You listened in on my conversations?”
This is going all the wrong way. “You have a loud telephone voice.”
“Excuse me?”
“But you’re American. I don’t hold it against you.”
“EXCUSE ME?”
“I saved you from French prison!” That’s the direction this conversation is going now? We were supposed to be throwing ourselves into each other’s arms by this point. But the fire in her eyes is not the one I’d expected.
This is going to burn in all the wrong ways.
CHAPTER27
Laura
This can’t be right,he can’t be saying what I think he’s saying. But lost in translation or not, one thing is clear.
He’s known all along we aren’t married.
“That whole time,” I say it to myself more than to him. “You were faking it. Every gesture, every kind word—”
“It was real.”
“It can’t be real when you’re faking a marriage!” I flop back down on the bed, the hospital gown scrunching around my thighs. “I slept on a chaise longue for a week, wondering if you were going to have a neurological crisis.”
“I was genuinely confused at first. I did have a concussion.”
“You didn’t have to use me. You’ve gotfriends. You’ve gotfamily. You could have called anyone, your brother—”
“He wouldn’t have come.”
“It didn’t have to be me! Or at the very least, you could have given me the choice!”
“Right,” he tsks. “After the way you laid into me in front of Sacre Coeur, you really think you had any consideration for me?”
I point my finger into his chest. “My point exactly. It’s all about you. It’s always all about you.”
“No, Laura.” He lowers his voice. “This time it’s all aboutyou. I was trying to open up to you in front of Sacre Coeur, to share what was happening inside me. I tried so many times, but you never gave me a chance. Instead, you screamed at me that I was spoiled, chauvinistic, and self-important.” When he speaks again, hurt seeps between his words. “Arrogant, misogynistic. Remember all that?”
Oh, I remember. The memory is so alive that it stings, because the words that flew out of me weren’t all from his doing. It was the culmination of a lifetime of feeling like a doormat, all thanks to Mom.
But I also remember that this very morning when I asked him outright about our relationship, he was all wide-eyed and blissfully ignorant.
“Today, Marc,todayyou acted like you didn’t know this was all fake. You lied straight to my face.” Anger boils up again, like someone temporarily turned down the stove element and then shot it right back up.
He shakes his head, denying his role in all of this. “You’ve never given me a chance, not since the moment we met. So when you ran me over—”
“I didn’t run you over!”
“—at first I thought my dreams had come true and we had in fact finally overcome the barrier, because no one but my wife would ever show such kindness and commitment. Such concern in your eyes. I saw it, Laura. And for a blind moment, everything else faded and I was living the life I’d always wanted. With you.”
“This can’t be happening. It was a lie. It was all a lie.” I bury my face in my hands because I can’t bear to look in those eyes for a second longer.
Because I almost believe him.
“You’ve got to go, Marc.”
