Page 21 of Belle Amour

Bastian finally gave her a genuine smile, the one that made the corner of his eyes crinkle and softened his whole face. “Next, you're gonna start pouting and begging.” He teased before kissing her forehead. “It's fine, Bunny. Don't worry about it.” Mirabelle relaxed and smiled back at him.

“That was the next step in my “please forgive me” plan; how did you know?”

“You have a pretty set repertoire.” He chuckled, squeezing her shoulder and resting his head on hers when she leaned against him. They were quiet for a few minutes, and Mirabelle found her thoughts going back to the fact that he was actually dating to find a new relationship, and she had no idea. She tried to let it go, telling herself that he didn’t have to tell her everything about his life, but she couldn’t do it and had to ask.

“Why didn't you tell me you were trying to find a serious relationship?”

Bastian let out a small sigh, and she knew he was hoping she would drop it. “It never got serious with anyone.” He repeated. “I didn’t think to mention it.” Mirabelle nodded. She guessed that made sense. He didn’t find someone he wanted to be with long-term, and she could see him not giving it any more thought than that. She was still curious about his comparison comment, though.

“Who are you comparing them to?”

This time, Bastian laughed, but it was dry with no amusement to it, making her lift her head to look at him in bewilderment. He huffed and shook his head when he met her eyes. “Mira, the fact that you even have to ask that question is making me wonder if I'm just that bad at expressing how I feel.” He leaned back into the headrest and closed his eyes, looking extremely reluctant to continue. “Or if you're deliberately ignoring me.”

Mirabelle was sure her heart stopped at that moment, and her hand unconsciously gripped his t-shirt. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was he really comparing them to her? “Bast...” she whispered, not sure what to say or how to react. She had given up on the idea of them being together.

“Look, we don't have to talk about this now; I'd actually rather we didn't. Take some time and think about things. I'm not going anywhere.” He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Whenever you're ready, no matter what you tell me, I swear, I'm not going anywhere.” He murmured against her head.

Mirabelle nodded, still speechless and in shock, and cuddled tighter to him. Bastian rested his cheek on her head, shifting slightly to pull her closer, and closed his eyes again, letting her figure out her feelings. A lot of things suddenly made a lot of sense, including his behaviour following her divorce and especially since leaving Henderson. He was much more affectionate and loving, checking in, holding her all night, the movie nights, fancy dinners, and outings that she would have considered dates if it had been anyone other than Bastian, but she hadn't paid any attention to because she thought it was just Bastian being Bast, her Bast from before she married Eddie.

His attitude leading up to her wedding and the way he pulled away after, which she had just chalked up to his intense dislike of Eddie, suddenly made so much more sense, and dear lord, his intense dislike of Eddie, something she thought was because their personalities were so different, was clearly because he was, not jealous, Bastian was far too confident in himself and genuinely didn’t have a jealous bone in his body, he had been angry that Mirabelle didn’t see what he saw and chose to be with Eddie over him.

When Bastian said Disney made up passionate, romantic love, Mirabelle had decided they had another fundamental difference between them that would make a romantic relationship unsustainable between them. Mirabelle was a romantic at heart, and she loved big, romantic gestures, and for all Eddie’s faults, he was really good at them. He had proposed to her on Christmas Eve while on a horse-drawn carriage ride inCentral Park by paying someone in park maintenance to write out “Marry me Mira” in Christmas lights in a stand of trees on the route. So, while Bastian was very loving and affectionate and showed he cared in a million small ways, they went unnoticed against Eddie’s far fewer but much more significant and louder declarations of love.

They were both quiet for the rest of the flight, and the conversations after landing all revolved around the logistics. Where to go to get their baggage, picking up the rental car Bastian had reserved and adding Mirabelle as a driver since he didn’t have her driver's license information when he booked it, the directions from the county airport to their hotel and small talk about the scenery as they drove. Things weren’t awkward, but they were both obviously wrapped up in their thoughts. Mirabelle didn’t know what Bastian was thinking; he mostly just seemed resigned that his feelings were now in the open, but she was still trying to figure out how she had missed all the - now - glaringly apparent signs.

Despite his reassurances that he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what she said when she was ready to talk, she held his hand tightly throughout the rest of the flight, walking through the airport and driving to the hotel. She was almost afraid that if she let him go, he would disappear. She had resigned herself to the best friend role for years, and she found herself alternating between being angry that he hadn't just come out and told her how he felt and feeling like an idiot because she hadn’t looked any deeper than surface level with him.

For years, she thought they were incompatible as a couple, first because of the kid thing, then because she had to believe Disney hadn't gotten it wrong; it was possible and was out there for her, which she had to own was her fault. If she hadn’t been waiting for the big declaration and paid moreattention to things… But still! Bastian knew her; if he wanted to get her attention, he knew what he had to do! But then she had to admit that it wasn’t Bastian’s personality to do that and asking him to be that way wasn’t fair to him, and Eddie’s grand displays had proven to be meaningless in the end, whereas Bastian had consistently proven to be committed and dependable. By the time they reached the hotel, Mirabelle was almost in a panic, no further ahead in figuring out how she felt about things than she had been on the plane.

Chapter Fifteen: Give Me the Words

As they checked into the Weber Hotel for their stay, Bastian could tell Mirabelle was struggling with her emotions surrounding his confession. Although he had to admit it, it was less of a confession and more of an “interpret this how you want” moment, and she had just interpreted it correctly this time. He took the key from the smiling front desk clerk and motioned with his chin that they were down the hall to the left of the check-in desk. Mirabelle resumed her death grip on his arm as they walked down the hall, and it was making him feel nervous. It seemed like she was afraid that if she told him how she felt about him, he would run. But he meant what he said; no matter what she told him, he was going to stick around. He just hoped they could work through everything and not be awkward and uncomfortable with one another.

Deciding to deal with things as they came, he unlocked the door to their room, unable to deny himself a sense of excitement about seeing her reaction to it. He had gone all out and gotten a poolside spa king suite, so they had a living room, a bedroom with a king-sized bed, a spa-like bathroom with a large, two-person soaker tub and a walk-in shower, and the part he knew she would be most excited about, a private patio that led directly to the pool. It meant they would have to tolerate morenoise until the pool closed at midnight, but it was worth it to him if it made her happy.

Letting her go in first, he watched her whole demeanour change as she walked in and looked around, leaving her suitcase next to the sofa and dropping her purse and laptop bag on it as she explored. When she saw the pool through the doors, she let out a soft squeal and opened the door, running out to check things out. Chuckling, he found a corner to put his golf clubs in, put his carry-on next to hers on the sofa and brought both their suitcases into the bedroom, opening his to pull out his suit and hang up. He was just turning around when Mirabelle came back in, shutting the patio door behind her and practically jumping into his arms to hug him.

“Oh my God, Bast! This is amazing!” She waved one hand toward the pool excitedly, the other wrapped around his waist. “I literally have to walk ten steps from our patio to jump in the pool!”

Bastian let out a low chuckle as he held her tightly against his chest. “Of course, anything for my Bunny.” She immediately pulled away from him, and he could see she was pissed; before he had a chance to correct himself, she was yelling at him.

“Why the fuck didn't you say anything, Bastian?” She shoved him back from her, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble back a step in his surprise at her sudden switch of emotions. “Your Bunny? Jesus fucking Christ, Bast! When did you have this epiphany? How much fucking time have we wasted?”

Apparently, calling her his had set her off, and they were going to hash things out now, which he was fine with, but he was not okay with her putting all the blame on him. “What?” He caught his balance and straightened up, glaring at her. “Oh no, this isn't all on me here! I fucking told you after I left Ana I lovedyou! You're the one who ignored it and started dating Eddie!” But Mirabelle didn’t back down and shook her head vehemently.

“No, you told me love wasn't real after you left Ana!”

This again. Bastian let out a low growl of frustration. “You asked me if I loved you, and I told you I did!”

“Passionate, romantic love is a Disney manufacture.” She quoted, seemingly almost taunting him, which made him want to throw something in frustration.

“For God’s sake, Mira!” Bastian had never regretted a conversation so much in his life. If he could erase one moment of time, it would be that one. “Our love is different!”

“You never explained what you meant by that!” She retorted stubbornly, folding her arms over her chest and lifting her chin. “I asked, repeatedly, what that meant, and you just kept saying it was different!”

“Because it is!” He exploded, sick of repeating himself. “I'm sorry, Mira, I don't know how to describe it! It's deeper; it's more than that! Comparing what we have to Disney's idea of love is insulting to how I feel about you! Fuck!” He sat down on the edge of the bed, running his hand into his hair as his anger faded. He reminded himself that he had never made himself clear to her after he left Ana, and he was just as much to blame for her misinterpreting things as she was.

“The only reason I started dating Ana and not you was because you were so adamant about the kid thing. I held off dating anyone seriously all through high school and most of university, hoping you would change your mind or I would change mine.” He looked up to see her watching him, her arms still folded, but her head was slightly tilted as she listened. “I almost didn't get married. I was driving to pick you up and had fucking tickets booked to run away with you to Fiji. I didn'twatch the woman I was about to marry walk up the aisle because I could see you crying in the front row, and it took everything in me not to grab you and run out of the church.”

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