Page 57 of The Vines Between Us
I would not repeat Henri's mistake. I would not choose safety over love, appearance over truth, retreat over courage. I would not give into the fear instilled into me by my father.
Tomorrow, I would find Hugo and tell him exactly that.
Chapter Twenty
ALEXANDRE
The phone rang at 3:17 AM. I fumbled for it in the darkness, my heart already racing with the certainty that no good news came at this hour.
"Alexandre?" My mother's voice, thick with tears and something like relief.
"Maman? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"He's gone, mon chéri. Your father. He's gone."
I sat up in bed, the words not quite penetrating. "Gone where? He left you?"
"He's dead, Alexandre. Heart attack. The doctors said... they said it was instant. All the drinking, all the anger, the rage... one second he was screaming at me and then the next his heart just gave out."
The room spun around me. I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles white in the moonlight streaming through the window.
"Maman, I'm so sorry. I'll catch the first train to Lyon. I'll be there by—"
"No." Her voice was stronger now, fierce. "Imean yes, come if you want to. But Alexandre... we're free. Do you understand? We're both finally free."
I understood. But freedom after my entire life being full of terror felt more terrifying than the prison we'd known.
"I don't know how to be free, Maman."
"Then learn," she whispered. "Learn with that boy you love. The one you've been protecting us from all these years."
She knew. She'd always known.
"I'm scared," I admitted, the words scraping raw from my throat.
"I know, mon chéri. But he's gone. He can't hurt any of us anymore. Not you, not me, not the people you love." She paused. "Your Hugo—he's still there?"
"Yes, but Maman, we're not... I've ruined things between us."
"Then fix them. You have time now. All the time in the world."
After she hung up, I sat in the darkness, shaking. Free. The word felt foreign, impossible. For thirty-two years, my father's voice had lived in my head, his threats had controlled my choices, his violence had shaped my capacity for love.
And now silence.
I found myself walking through the dark house to Henri's study, then outside into the vineyard. The air was cool against my skin, the vines rustling softly in the night breeze. I walked without destination until I found myself at the stone wall that separated our properties.
And there, as if conjured by my need, was Hugo. Sitting on the wall between our properties in his pajamas and an old jacket, looking up at the stars.
"Couldn't sleep either?" he said softly, not turning around. His voice was guarded, the same careful distance he'd maintained since I'd hurt him.
"My father's dead."
The words hung in the air between us. Hugo turned then, his expression shifting from surprise to concern.
"Alexandre... I'm sorry."
"Heart attack. Three hours ago." I moved closer but stopped short of the wall, respecting the boundary between us. "I should feel sad. Or grief. Or something."
