Philippe turned to his mother and was startled to see the older woman looking so emotional. "Maman?"
"It has been so long since we've had such fun together like this."
"It has, hasn't it?"
"Every time we see each other, we often end up quarreling."
"It wasn't like that when I was growing up."
"No," Sandra said softly. "It wasn't." She left it at that, knowing that her son was no fool, and he would know without being told that their relationship as mother and son had only become difficult when he chose to make his sister-in-law his mistress.
Sandra's chauffeur-driven limousine was already waiting for her outside the hospital when they came out, and her mother kissed him on the cheek in goodbye. "All I wish is for your happiness, Philippe. But you won't ever have that if you do not let go of the past. Make things right while you still have the time."
Sandra's words remained with Philippe as he made his way back to Charlee-Mae's room. His father was long gone, but Philippe still had the rest of his life ahead of him. Marrying Greta used to be so damn important because it had been the worst way he could think of to spite his father. But was that all his life could be?
It had been months since he had even taken Greta to bed, and did that not say a lot about how he saw her? When he had decided to marry Greta, he had thought he was killing two birds with one stone. He would have his revenge, and Greta would also make him a suitable wife.
But now that he had met Charlee-Mae..."suitable" suddenly did not seem enough, and he was starting to think it would never be so.
A heavy load seemed to have lifted off his shoulders, and although Philippe had no doubt ending things with Greta would not be easy, whatever trouble he ran into would be worth suffering if it meant keeping Charlee-Mae in his life, and preferably without her memories back.
His wife was standing by the balcony doors when he walked in, and she turned around as soon as she heard him enter. "Your Maman was such a surprise," she told him with a smile.
"I think that should be my line," he said dryly. "I would never have expected her to be a fan of your vlogs."
Charlee-Mae pouted. "Is that your way of saying you thought her too posh for my vlogs?"
"Oui."
His wife gasped. "How horrible! Don't you know Marriage 101? Thou shalt always be supportive of thy wife's vlogs!"
"Even if said vlogs are about the men she's dated?"
Charlee-Mae had actually forgotten about that part, and she realized too late she should have just kept her mouth shut.
"Well, ma femme? Should I watch your vlogs then?"
His tone was pleasant, but the glint in his eyes was not.
"You're jealous!"
"Oui."
She gasped yet again, not having expected to hear him easily admit this.
"And I've never been the type to be jealous before," Philippe muttered with self-disgust. "But somehow with you..."
"It's different?"
"Everything is different with you."
Charlee-Mae had a hard time keeping her face straight at her husband's chagrined tone.
"I used to find it extremely irritating," Philippe said moodily, "when women insisted on speaking French without bothering to learn the accent. But then you—-"
Charlee-Mae didn't know whether to feel sympathetic or insulted. "Is my accent that bad?"
"I do not think you can even call yours an accent."
"Ouch."
"It is just so terrible, it sounds no different from a witch running her nails against a chalkboard."
Charlee-Mae choked back a laugh.
"And there is the lunch hour you speak of."
"Oh dear."
"And then—-" Philippe broke off when his wife suddenly rushed to his side and threw her arms around him.
"I get it," Charlee-Mae said, her voice muffled against his chest.
"You do?"
Looking up, she said softly, ""You're telling me you truly are in love with me...even if ours is a mail-order marriage."
Chapter Seven
Charlee-Mae's words had knocked him over with a feather, and Philippe struggled to find something to say. He felt her start to squirm, and he forced himself to let go even when a part of him wanted to keep her caged...in case she had decided to leave.
The silence stretched between them, and Philippe's tension grew. "Have you gotten your memories back?"
His wife shook her head, and the invisible noose around his neck eased the slightest bit. He knew he should be disappointed at her answer, but he was not. If Charlee-Mae had regained her memories, everything would have gone back to normal, and she would remember that their marriage was a business arrangement. He should have wanted that, but he didn't. And he no longer did...because everything had now changed
Philippe knew his sudden change of heart might make him appear fickle, but he didn't give a damn.
All he knew was that he wanted Charlee-Mae as she was now: a wife who believed herself in love with him. But was that even possible, when she had already figured out that both of them had not met under normal circumstances?