“That’s a good story.”
“The illusion doesn’t last long. But it’s always soothin’ while it lasts.”
“I agree. Keep that fantasy for as long as you can.”
Rainey pauses. “How terrible was it?”
This is dangerous ground. Dangerous ground!
I don’t speak about this with anyone. It’s far too sobering. There’s no glib quip I can say to transition into a different topic.
Briefly I close my eyes, we both know what “it” refers to. I try to answer her question without thinking about the dark memories, but it’s nearly impossible. “What I saw over there … I can never forget it. You can’t prepare yourself for what you’ll do. You think you know, but it pales in comparison to the truth. When I left, I thought my decision was noble, and now that’s it over, I question whether all the nightmares and recollections were worth it.”
“It was noble,” Rainey says fiercely.
“Perhaps at first. In war, there are battle lines, but in the end, all men bleed the same.”
Rainey is silent as she soaks in my words. “That may be true,” she starts out slowly. “But you cannot dwell on this, Livingston. It will destroy you. You are not the sum of your decisions, or the worth of your words. But the contents of your soul.”
I take a deep breath. “Rainey, I’ve seen some depraved things.”
“You are a wonderful person, though.” Suddenly, she pulls away and sits up straight. “Don’t look so doubtful, Livingston Lacroix. I mean it.”
If only we believe in ourselves the way we do in others. Perhaps that blind sacrifice is the definition of love. To place all your hope and trust in someone else because they need it more than you do.
I don’t know. The closest I’ll ever come to love is Rainey. But it’s not enough to be a connoisseur of the emotion.
Rainey reaches out and sweeps her fingertips across my cheek. “You wanted so badly to save the people around you that you forgot to save yourself,” she says softly.
Her words shoot a chill down my spine because a part of me is desperate for Rainey to ignore my stubbornness and the barriers I have and try to save me. Sometimes I feel that helpless.
Clearing my throat, I sit up, causing Rainey’s hand to fall away from my face. “I appreciate your kindness.”
“Have I ever been known to be kind? I prefer to say what I mean and mean what I say.”
“Fair enough.” I become silent and rest my head against the headboard. Carefully, I look at her from the corner of my eye. She resumes her spot next to me. Once again, making small circles across my chest.
“What do you think you’ll do now? Go back to the shippin’ company?”
I’ve thought about this very question many, many times. “No. I don’t believe I will. Workin’ at the shippin’ company was never satisfyin’ for me.”
“There has to be somethin’,” she says, gently prodding. “Somethin’ that will bring you joy.”
You bring me joy.
“No, nothin’.”
“This isn’t a question you’ll immediately have an answer to. You have to think it through,” Rainey replies.
“I’ve thought about this many times. The dilemma is, I don’t know who I am.”
“Not at all?”
I hesitate to answer as I think of every pleasurable past time of mine that didn’t include sex or liquor. Finally, I think of one hobby.
“When I was younger, I wanted to be an architect,” I announce into the silence.
Beside me, Rainey tenses for a moment before she continues her soothing strokes.
“It’s foolish, though,” I quickly say.
Rainey stops her ministrations. I feel the absence of her touch almost immediately. She sits up halfway, resting her weight on her elbow. “It’s not foolish.”
“That’s kind of you to say. But no need to be patronizin’.”
“I’m not. I see no issue with bein’ an architect.”
“There is when you’re a Lacroix, and your family has a successful business.”
She nods in understanding. “You’ve been workin’ for the shippin’ company since your parents passed away. How much joy has it brought you?”
“Should a job bring you joy?”
Rainey sighs as she contemplates my questions. “I believe it should. Considerin’ we have one chance to live our life. And as you said, your family has a successful business, so you have options. The privilege to choose somethin’ different.”
“Ah, but you’re forgettin’ that privilege is a prison.”
I told Rainey the truth because I wanted her to know the truth. Because there’s no one in the world I trusted more. I place my arm around her and bury my face in her hair because I was relieved to have the conversation over. But for Rainey, the conversation isn’t over. She pulls back. I can feel her eyes roving over my face. “You should do what you want.”
What would it be like to move about life pursuing something I truly enjoyed? The idea seemed so preposterous, thinking about it borders on cruel.
“We haven’t argued in nearly twenty minutes. This might be a new record for us.”
From Rainey’s smirk, I can tell she knows I’m trying to change the direction of the conversation. I’ve told her more tonight than I’ve told anyone else. Her smirk transforms into a soft smile as she tucks her hair behind her ear. Something in my chest seizes at the action. Something unfamiliar and terrifying.
“I think it might be.”
I kiss the crown of her head. “Good night, le savauge.”
I waited several minutes until I heard her steady breathing. Even then, I was hesitant as I whispered the words into her hair, “Vous êtes la seule chose pure à laquelle je puisse m’accrocher.”
And I closed my eyes and fell asleep because I was so, so tired, and Rainey gave me peace. In life, it’s not our place to question the pain someone else experiences. We only need to recognize it.
And that’s what Rainey does. Peacefully acknowledges my torment. That’s why no one can have her, and no one will take her from me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Rainey
The next morning, I wake up with a smile on my face and the space next to me empty. The only sign of Livingston’s presence is the rustled sheets. Brushing my fingertips across the mattress, I think of what happened last night.
I don’t care for regrets.
Nothing in life is done in vain. We learn from our choices one way or another. And last night, I learned I love Livingston Lacroix with every fiber of my being.
The thought causes my toes to curl and me to bury my face in my pillow, but it’s true. I knew I loved that stubborn bastard before, but now I realized the extent and what I would do to have him.
But first I had to tell Livingston the truth of how I felt about him. The mere idea of expressing my feelings and being vulnerable makes my stomach churn. I know Livingston cares for me. I know he does. I don’t know the depth, though, and that’s what makes love so impossibly chaotic. You can move as deep in your own heart as you please, but you will have to be brave long enough to learn whether your heart can be loved back.