Dark Memories (The Phantom Diaries, #2) (17 page)
Read Dark Memories (The Phantom Diaries, #2) Online
Authors: Kailin Gow
Though I knew touching him would reawaken all the emotions I’d wanted to extinguish, my hand had a will of its own and reached for his cheek.
“This song is absolutely beautiful.”
“As are you.”
His voice was strong, yet tinged with fragility. “I love you beyond reason.”
The strength he pushed into his voice faltered and he choked.
With a clatter that far outweighed the sheets they were written on, the music fell from my hand. I stepped closer, anticipating the outreach of his arms; wanting so desperately for him to pull me closer still.
He remained motionless. “My love for you has only brought you pain.”
I leaned into him, needing his support and his strength.
My lips brushed along his cheek and warmed his ear.
I knew the pain I’d recently suffered was nothing compared to the slow death I now sensed.
“Annette.” The whisper was filled with longing and denial.
“Eric.” Despite every weakened limb, my voice was strong in its determination to keep him from saying what he was about to say.
I didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t bear it.
“I must go in search of who I truly am.”
“Eric,” I pleaded.
“I owe you at least that.”
He pressed his lips over my eyes.
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tight as I rested my cheek against his chest.
His heart pounded in my ear and I knew it was breaking as surely as mine was.
The salt of too many tears clung to his shirt while my own pain slid down my cheeks and merged with his.
“It was silly of me to ask you that.
I don’t care. I don’t want to know. All that matters is that you're here. That we’re together.” I reached up to kiss his neck and up his cheek.
“I have to leave.” Defeated and determined, he stood still. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”
“Eric,” I muttered through the kisses that attempted to engage him.
“Please don’t look for me.”
“This isn’t fair.”
He cupped my cheeks and held my gaze.
“If our love was meant to be, if all the love and pain we’ve shared was for a purpose, destiny will bring me back to you.”
His lips covered mine and the power of his embrace crushed me to his chest. I didn’t want to let go. The pain of losing him left me dizzy and barely able to stand. His support was vital; his consoling never enough.
I lured his tongue to meet with mine and savored every moment as though clinging to my last breath. He pressed his fingers through my hair, gripping me tighter and enveloping me in the passion of his every move.
Only when I felt the wall at my back did I realize he’d pushed up against the damp brick and mortar. With his strained breathing filling the cavernous room, he lifted my hands above my head, pinning me to the wall as his lips waged an assault over my skin.
My cheeks, my neck, my collarbone and down to the valley between my breasts, now moistened with the glow of passion.
“Make love to me, Eric.”
Before you go.
Before you leave me shattered and unable to love so deeply.
His breathing faltered and I knew his passion was as heightened as mine. Tears had given way to the heated glimmer of perspiration. When his tongue dipped between my breasts, I thought he’d released his resolve. I wanted his love, in the physical and in the depths of me.
But just as quickly as his tongue had swiped at the sweat of my chest, he pulled away, leaving me cold and too hungry.
He cupped my chin with one strong hand. “I love you, Annette.”
One last moment, his gaze held mine and I crumpled to the floor the instant he released me.
Without turning back, he walked out, each step stamping out the determination of his decision.
Amidst the sheets of such tormented music that littered the floor, my sobs echoed in the void, begging him to return.
Chapter 15
December 29, 2010
Dear Diary,
It’s difficult to put into words the depth of pain and sorrow I feel. My heart has been emptied and I feel I have nothing left. I don’t know how long I remained on that floor, sobbing and hoping, but I rose stiff and chilled and barely able to make my way up to the Met.
The night has been an unending dream of his return, of his love and of his passion, making this morning’s first wake all the more impossible.
Opening my eyes to the music sheets I’d brought home with me didn’t help matters.
The lyrics danced off the sheets, taunting me with the thoughts that had plagued Eric for so long. My only solace was in knowing that his pain was as profound as mine.
He’d once written an opera for Kristine.
The opera I’d sung these past months revolved around the pain and passion of that union.
Could this new opera be a sign of the end of that relationship, once and for all?
Was he truly prepared to put Kristine behind him and look at the possibility of a future with me?
Hopeless dreams, I know.
But my heart needs to cling to that hope.
The hope that his destiny will indeed bring him back to me.
I must set aside my pain for now. Aaron is soon to arrive. With our trip to
Did I really want to immerse myself in this further?
But…
I took one final look in the mirror.
The puffiness beneath my eyes was barely evident and the redness was gone. The sad tug of my lips came and went. When Aaron’s knock sounded at the door, I forced the corners of my mouth up.
It looked convincing enough.
I opened the door to Aaron’s confident smile and playful wink, beneath a very French beret.
“Ready to be swept off your feet,
ma demoiselle
?”
He pulled the beret off and plopped it onto my head.
“Maurice Chevalier, you are not,” I said with a laugh. “But I like your attempt all the same.”
*****
Paris greeted us with a chill, but nothing could temper the excitement of this vibrant city.
People still crowded the
Aaron was the perfect tour guide, knowledgeable and thorough.
No doubt we saw everything
Simply being immersed in such splendor was enough to make me dizzy. While Paris had so much to see and do, just strolling through the streets, drinking in the architecture and becoming part of the crowd was enough to fill me with an exuberant
joie de vivre.
As we sat at a small bistro, many young women passed by, eyeing Aaron with interest, and gazing at me with open curiosity. Many smiled as they attempted to catch his attention.
One brazen woman even dropped her lipstick by our table and made an elaborate show of picking it up.
Aaron’s gaze never wandered.
He poured some wine into my quickly emptying glass, his focus completely on me. Flattered by his concentrated gaze, I blushed.
Was he truly oblivious to the interested gazes of so many young and startlingly beautiful women or was he simply ignoring them for my sake.
“I’m beginning to feel like I’m with a French celebrity. Is your presence in
“The
“As is the
There seems to be an undeniable physical trait that gives the
“If I were the jealous type, this meal could turn out quite differently. Many American women wouldn’t sit through such blatant flirting.”
He smiled, though I suspected he would have appreciated a touch of jealousy.
“Only a confident and self-assured woman can deal with the constant onslaught of young hungry women competing for the attention of an Aragon.”
Our day spent in
l’Arc de Triomphe
in the distance, I fell asleep in a room adjacent to Aaron’s.
He was full of life and vigor as he greeted me the next morning with croissants and coffee. The sight of the croissant immediately had me thinking back to my time spent with Kristine.
“Coffee would be good,” I said simply.
It was difficult to tell if it was the return to his home or simply leaving the pressures of his work behind that affected him so.
His smile was boyish and the gleam in his eye forever playful.
But it was as we left the lights of the city and drove through the narrow country lanes that Aaron really came to life in a more profound and touching way.
I could see the emotions and reverie in his eyes.
This was his home.
The further behind
“You must miss it,” I said as I took in the beauty of the countryside that passed us by. Everything seemed magical and special.
My eyes couldn’t completely take in all the beauty that sped by.
The little convertible sports car Aaron drove swept through the winding roads as though he’d never left home.
Everything seemed familiar to him and he continually pointed out one notable building after another. His smile was contagious and I felt giddy and caught up in his nostalgia.
Only half an hour out of Paris and I could feel the intoxicating effects of this country.
The lightly scented air was sweet and every breath felt like a gift.
“I guess I hadn’t really realized just how much I’d missed all this until we hit this old road.
Isn’t it unfortunate how we often tend to take for granted such things, only to miss them when they’re gone?”
He stopped at the gate of a grand estate.
As he’d done throughout our visit of
I wanted to question the diminished passion he’d shown me since we’d arrived.
What had happened to the intense ardor he’s displayed while Kristine had been in power? Had he forgotten about all the heat she’d ignited?
Or was the rumor of my possession sinking in?
He was a smart man; a man who knew the ways of worldly women. With the contrast of my demure and chaste sensuality and Kristine’s overt and explosive sexuality, it was almost obvious that something odd had happened to me.
