Asa doesn’t reply, just merely nods his head.
“But it’s not terrible. I spoke to Leaf and she said it could be far worse. We could have them yellin’ at us face to face,” I blabber.
Still no answer when Asa suddenly looks at me. “You can tell me if you need your hours reduced.”
His remark is sudden and unexpected. “Why do you say that?”
“You seem tired.”
“I am tired.”
But I’d rather be tired than tormented like I was at Brignac House. Being tired equates to a body so exhausted even your bruised heart and mind can’t continue to run late into the night.
My eyes narrow. “Did my brother ask you to inquire how I’m handlin’ this job?”
“No, Étienne didn’t. I think we both know he would ask you himself.”
“Fair enough,” I concede.
We walk over a small series of brick broken on the sidewalk. It’s been this way for years. The Lacroix house is right ahead.
“May I ask you somethin’?”
I hesitate to say yes because I don’t know what Asa wants to ask me. There’s still so much we haven’t said to each other. “Yes,” I reply, albeit reluctantly.
“Why did you say you wouldn’t have kids at Alex’s birthday party?”
It takes me a moment to remember the conversation he’s referring to. Out of everything, he asked about that?
Feeling my cheeks heat, I keep my eyes fixed on the ground and reply, “Because I can’t have children. Oliver and I tried, and…”
I let my words fade because this isn’t a conversation I want to have with Asa. Just the mention of Oliver has his eyes hardening. “I’m no longer upset about it,” I say, “I know it’s my fault I can’t carry a child.”
Asa’s quiet for a long moment, staring at me at me with confusion. “Your fault?”
I nod.
“That’s absurd. Have you stopped to consider that maybe it wasn’t you?”
“Pardon?”
“Maybe it was Oliver. I once read that men can have reproductive issues.”
One corner of my mouth curls up as I listen to Asa rattle off a nonsensical fact about reproduction. It’s been so long since I’ve heard him go on and on about aimless facts. But it’s not enough to dull the harsh words whispered by Matilda, “Our life was perfect before you came into the picture. Then you ruined everything. What you touch, turns to death.”
Back then, I told myself her words meant nothing. Matilda was simply an angry, hateful woman who couldn’t bear to see anyone happy. But her words meant everything; they hit far too close to my heart than I cared to realize.
“What’s wrong?”
Instantly, the memory fades as quickly as it arrives. I blink Asa into focus and find him staring at me intently. I smile at him reassuringly. “Nothin’.”
“Yes, there is. It was my question. I upset you when I talked about reproductive issues.”
Most of the time, Asa worked so hard to keep his thoughts to himself; social cues were a chore for him. When he forgot one, my heart swelled. This was the Asa I loved so much. This was the Asa that I wanted to shield from the world because people had been, and would be, cruel to him.
Was Juliet protecting him? Did she understand him like I did? I pushed the thought away because it hurt too much to think about and cleared my throat. “No, you didn’t upset me.”
Asa continues to watch me, his stare intense. “Then what?”
“I was thinkin’ about the past,” I confess.
With my confession, Asa’s brows lift. “Oh.”
I nod. “You said nothin’ wrong.”
As we approach the Lacroix House, Asa opens the gate and gestures for me to walk ahead of him. I am more than capable of making it the rest of the way, but I don’t want our conversation to come to an end. I miss his presence in my life, but I miss our talks even more. With Asa, I never knew where the conversation would lead. He was innocently unpredictable with his words. That’s what people never understood about him. Yes, he was blunt and at times unseemly with his approach, but he tried so hard. If the rest of the people in the world were like him, we would be in a far better place.
I observe him from the corner of my eye and find him looking toward the gardens. “They look bleak durin’ the winter, don’t they?”
“What garden doesn’t?” He stops walking and points to the tree not far from us. “I was tryin’ to see if your swing is still there.”
“It is,” I reply, without giving the Oak tree a single glance.
Asa shakes his head. “You loved that swing.”
“I loved a lot as a child,” I murmur and continue toward the front door.
Asa hesitates for a moment before he quickly catches up to me. “And you don’t love now?” he asks.
I stop and turn to him. “As we grow so does our love.”
“So, you still do love.”
“At times, yes. The only difference is, if I do love, Asa, I’m smart enough to realize I deserve to be loved back.”
Asa hears the true meaning of my words, but rather than walk away, he stays put. He crosses his arms and leans in every so slightly. “Who do you love now?”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I heard jealousy in Asa’s tone.
“Why is it any of your concern?” I ask.
“It isn’t my concern.”
Under the cloak of darkness, we are the only two people in the world. I lean against the door. My palms lay flat against the surface, but not even that cool blast against my warm skin is enough to pull me out of the trance I’m in. Asa shifts closer until the tips of our feet touch.
Our breaths mingle together, and if I move the barest inch, our lips will touch. Once that happens, I will shatter. Nothing else will matter but him.
“Thank you for walkin’ me home,” I whisper. Blindly, I reach for the door handle, but it’s as though the thing disappeared on me.
Asa reaches behind me and grabs the knob on the first try. The action causes him to shift closer. Our lips brush against each other as he whispers back, “You’re welcome.”
I gasp just as he pulls back. My hands hold onto the handle as though it’s a life raft. With my heart pounding in my ears, I watch Asa walk backward, never taking his eyes off me. “Good-night, Nathalie.”
“Good-night, Asa,” I reply.
I don’t remember making it inside. But once I do, I heavily sag against the front door and close my eyes.
He’s married now, Nathalie. And you are no longer a little girl with stars in her eyes…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
1905
Nathalie
“Do you think everyone is asleep?”
I turned back and looked at Rainey. We hadn’t left the confines of my room and our plan already seemed doomed. “No. I can guarantee you Étienne is awake, in his office, lookin’ over a contract or readin’.”
“Does he ever sleep?”
I tapped a finger to the corner of my mouth. “I believe he did. Once. As a child.”
Rainey and I broke into laughter far too easily. Étienne always said if we laughed long enough, we would start to sound like a tea kettle going off. Which made us erupt into another fit of giggles. We could find the humor in the mundane when most could not. That’s what I loved so much about our friendship.