if it could be fixed, it felt as if he would be dishonoring what they’d shared. And why should he care about that? Why should what they shared matter? She was one woman, one in a line of several. While not the legendary playboy his brother was, he’d had his share of lovers, and not one of them had affected him like this. Their breakups had always been amicable. Easy. And he’d felt fine afterward. He’d felt nothing, really.
Marie was the only one to make him feel anything, and that had been nothing like this.
That had been wounded pride. He’d been the laughingstock of society. Being left right before the wedding for his brother.
But it hadn’t been this. This had nothing to do with anyone but Amelia and himself.
He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of pain the thought brought on. Amelia and him. The ache was only for her, and yet the reasons he couldn’t be with her seemed to involve an army of other people.
He looked down at his desk, staring at the wood grain, one question playing through his mind.
Why?
Why did anyone else get a say in what he did? In what he could feel? Why was anything or anyone more important than what he felt than she was?
They shouldn’t be. And yet, there was too much in the way. Though part of him couldn’t help but wonder if he was just in his own way.
Anger had always protected him. Anger at his father had kept him from caring too much when the old man had struck him, and had stopped it eventually, as he’d become a man and his father realized that Luc wasn’t to be trifled with.
Anger had protected him when Blaise had returned to France with a rage matching his own. It had kept him from wanting a reunion, when both of them were so full of resentment.
It had insulated him, driven him, after Marie.
But now it was keeping him from something he wanted. It was keeping him from Amelia. Keeping her from him.
As long as anger was the biggest emotion in him, he really couldn’t ever be worthy of her, and every reason he’d pushed her away would hold true.
But if he could change it … If he could change himself rather than just making excuses, then maybe …
She would always be too good for him. Too bright, too lovely and too damn chipper. But he was wallowing in the things of the past, embracing his anger because it was easy, and while his pride rebelled against that reality, it was the truth.
He pounded his fist on the desk, the only sound that had echoed in the room since he’d come in that morning.
He knew what his life would bring if he didn’t change. More of the same. Loneliness, a sense of quiet stability, the dull ache of rage and a strange sadness that pushed against his throat when he closed his eyes at night. Whether he was an investor or a real estate developer, if he was ever going to have a different life, changes would have to happen inside him, not just outside.
But if he chose Amelia, there would be no stability in the everyday. It would be too bright, too fuzzy and rarely quiet. It would be full of songs, and when he closed his eyes, she would be next to him. Warm and soft, smelling like peppermint and pine and being more than he’d ever hoped to deserve.
If he was going to hold Amelia, he had to let go of some things he’d been carrying for far too long.
He picked up his phone and scrolled through the numbers. This wasn’t one he had memorized, and that said a lot. Though, he had always kept it. And maybe that said a lot, too.
He dialed, not caring that it was ten at night in Paris. That wasn’t his problem. He was making amends and he would do it on his time.
“Hello?” A woman answered. American. His brother’s wife, Ella.
“Hello,” he said, knowing he sounded awkward and stilted. Hating that he cared at all.
“Who is this?”
“This is Luc,” he said. “We’ve never spoken. Em …”
“Blaise’s brother,” she said, sounding somewhat shell-shocked.
“Yes.”
“Are you calling for…. are you calling for him? That’s a stupid question. Who else would you be calling for? But then, why are you calling at all? You never have. Well, obviously you have. But never since I’ve been around.”
“I am calling because things have gotten to a point where it’s clear I owe him an apology.”
“You owe him one?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice rough.
“Hello?”
It was Blaise. He’d picked up another line.
“It’s me,” Luc said.
“So it is,” Blaise said, not sounding particularly friendly.
“I’ll just hang up,” Ella said.
“No,” Luc said. “Stay on, please. It will be easier. You’re a part of this, too, Ella. Because you’re family. I’m not good at this kind of thing. At being sincere and saying nice things. I don’t have a lot of practice.”
“I have more than I used to. I’m sorry,” Blaise said. “I want you to know that. I have wanted you to know that. I’ve wished you would take a call from me for a long time so I could say just that. She wasn’t the one for me, no matter how much I believed it. Even if she had been, what I did wouldn’t have been right.”
“It’s immaterial. You’ve apologized before. And I know … I know I said I forgave you. But that was a lie. I didn’t. I know you know that. I know my not talking to you showed how empty that statement of forgiveness was. I was angry. I’ve been angry. I don’t want to be anymore. I can’t be. Because I think I understand you now.”
“Do you?” Blaise asked.
“Yes. I met a woman. One that … no matter her circumstances I couldn’t turn away from. One that I knew was wrong for me to touch. But I did, anyway. Because sometimes … it’s bigger than you are.”
“I was just being vindictive at the time, I think, Luc. But I do know what you’re saying about love. That’s what I have with Ella. The feelings that surpass everything else. Common sense, common decency. Fear.”
“Yes,” Luc said. “That. But she deserves someone better than me. So I’m trying to be better.”
“Don’t just try,” Blaise said. “Do it. If you’ve found someone like that … nothing else matters.”
“You do. And Ella. I want to be in your lives. I want Amelia and I to be in your lives. First, I have to convince her that she should be with me. After I went to so much trouble to push her away.”
Blaise chuckled, a laugh that sounded so like his. Funny how that worked, as they’d spent so little time together. But the bond was stronger than time. And it was a
