Page 54 of The Saint

“I’m sorry…for everything.” His eyes burned in their own darkness. “If I could take it all back, I would.”

I used to dismiss his apologies. Used to discount them as pleading. But I could see the sincerity like a beacon of light that called the ships home. “I know, Adrien.”

“And…” He didn’t grimace in pain as if that was the cause of the interruption. Didn’t seem to lose his train of thought either. He just struggled to get the words out. “And I’m happy for you…he’s a good guy.”

I’d never needed his blessing, but it was nice to receive it. The final page had finally turned, and the book had closed. It was a novella, more of a footnote compared to the story of my life. Just as winter ended the year, I felt the closure I’d sought for many months. The guilt-free acceptance of the end. I’d loved Adrien with all my heart, but those feelings had faded faster than the setting sun. Now, my heart burned white-hot for someone else, a torch I would carry for eternity. “I’m going to marry him.”

There wasn’t a wince or a look of surprise. Instead of turning the page back to the start, he let the book come to an end. Let the winter winds blow our past over the countryside and disappear. “I know.”

By the time we got home, it was nearly three in the morning.

Our dinner had been interrupted, so we hadn’t eaten. My appetite kicked in once we walked into his bedroom, now that all the fear and uncertainty had passed.

Bastien seemed to have the same thought because he pulled out his phone and fired off a text, and I assumed it was to Gerard. I supposed it could have been to anyone, but I knew Bastien well enough to suspect he was starving.

That man was always starving.

He changed out of his clothes and put on his sweatpants. He was shirtless, so the gauze around his arm that concealed the stitches underneath was visible like a commemorative medal. He poured himself a drink from the bar then took a seat at the table, eyes heavy like he was tired but too hungry for sleep. Then he grabbed a cigar, lit it up, and just let it sit between his lips.

I changed too, choosing to wear his clothes instead of my own. They were more comfortable, and they smelled like him. Smelled like romance and rain and the City of Light. I sat across from him, one knee bent with my foot against the seat, his shirt like a baggy dress.

He didn’t usually smoke his cigars around me, and now that I saw him do it, I realized I hadn’t seen him smoke in a while. And when he came home, he didn’t smell like it either. Made me wonder if he’d been trying to cut back on that too.

He let the cloud of smoke escape from his mouth, relaxed in the chair with his arms slightly crossed. He looked out the window and over the dark water to the lights of the buildings across the way, the Eiffel Tower the beacon of the city.

“How are you?”

He took another drag and then released the smoke. “Fucking hungry.”

I could tell he was in a bad mood, and now I knew he washangry. All it took was one skipped meal, and he was beside himself. The stab wound and almost getting killed was no problem at all. I stayed quiet and drank the wine he’d poured me and let the silence go by, knowing he would be the man I remembered once the food came.

Twenty minutes later, Gerard delivered the meal.

Bastien didn’t even wait until Gerard placed my plate in front of me before he started to eat. It was a steak and potatoes and greens, so he was determined to get his steak tonight, regardless of what went down.

I didn’t mind that he’d dropped his manners. He deserved to eat.

Gerard left, and we ate in silence. I had a bowl of penne pasta with a side salad, as if Bastien had told him to make that specifically. The hot food hit the spot after the crazy night. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was either until I’d walked in the door. My last meal had been at lunchtime, and it was just a cup of soup.

He smoked his cigar between bites, something I’d never seen him do. When he finished inhaling his food, he put out the cigarright on his dinner plate then drank the rest of his glass until there was nothing left.

Life came back into his face, and he looked like the man I knew and loved. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “It was hard seeing him like that, but he’ll be fine. He’s got his brothers and parents and stuff.”

“He’s not your problem.”

“I know he’s not. Now, you’re my problem.” I gave him an affectionate smile before I glanced at the gauze on his arm.

He didn’t smile back, but his eyes softened subtly.

It was a rough day, a day that could have ended quite differently. But it ended in the way that I needed it to end, a final goodbye that wasn’t teary, but kind. “I finally got the closure I’ve been looking for…and that was nice.”

“Good. You deserve peace.”

“Yeah, just wish it could have happened differently.” Without Bastien being stabbed and Adrien… I wasn’t sure what exactly had happened to him.

“We both lived to tell the tale. All that matters.”

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