“You’ve canceled on me more than once,” she says, wagging her finger teasingly. “But it’s a beautiful day, and you’re here, so let us enjoy it,oui? I have coffee already; I’ll have the waiter bring more.”
Alexandre pulls out a chair for me, and it’s only then that Yvette seems to notice my presence. Her nose wrinkles slightly as she looks me up and down.
“Is this your pet?” she asks lightly, smirking. “I didn’t know you’d acquired a new one, Alexandre.”
A new one.Something about that cuts deep, the fears I’d had before rising up again. I think of the women’s clothing mysteriously in his apartment, the way he’d been so effortlessly prepared to have me there, and I feel the knotting anxiety in my stomach again.If there have been others, where are they now?
Maybe she just means an actual pet, like a dog or a cat.It would be dehumanizing, but it’s a less terrifying option than the thought that I’m just another one in a line of girls in Alexandre’s possession, none of whom are there now.
Alexandre narrows his eyes at her, and Yvette gives a delicate huff, taking her own seat as Alexandre and I both sit down. “I didn’t mean any harm,” she insists, glancing back at me. “She’s a pretty little thing. I think you ought to have a collar and leash on her, so she doesn’t get away. Out here like this, she could run off at any second.” She takes a drag on her cigarette, puffing the smoke out as she taps it with one long, manicured fingernail.
“She won’t run away,” Alexandre says it with such absolute certainty that it startles me, as if he’s thought about this on his own time and decided that my running away wasn’t something he needed to worry about.
Truthfully it’s not, though. I’ve already gone over it in my own head—I don’t speak much of the language, I have no money and no way to contact anyone. Trying to run would only either get me kidnapped by someone much worse or serve to piss Alexandre off, ending my time of comfort and relative ease at his home.
I have no doubt that he could make things much worse for me if he wanted to. And Yvette’s words make me shiver.A collar and leash.If there were other girls, did he treat them like that? Is that my future if I disobey him? Just the thought makes me want to claw at my neck, my throat tightening as if there were already something around it.
Alexandre and Yvette are talking about something else, and I try to focus, blinking rapidly as I shove down the mounting panic. I know Alexandre won’t appreciate it if I have another spiral out here in public and in front of his friend. But I quickly realize that they’re speaking in French so rapidly that it would be impossible for me to follow even if I understood more of it. It makes me feel small and invisible, as unimportant as a lap dog brought along to the café.
Just breathe. Don’t think about it.
“Come back to the apartment for dinner,” Alexandre offers, this time in English, and my heart skips a beat in my chest.
No,I want to say, that flush of jealousy rising up again. I picture Alexandre cooking dinner for Yvette in the kitchen that I cleaned, and I grit my teeth, my blood heating. I have no right to feel jealous—it doesn’t even make any sense. But I can feel the shift in the air when she’s near, the way he acts differently, the way she’s so attentive to him. I don’t know if they’re lovers, but there’s something there, and it makes me feel a way that I know I have no right to.
A way that I shouldn’t even feel towards a man who purchased me, who owns me like property.
“I like the sound of that,” Yvette says, smiling sweetly as she blows out another puff of cigarette smoke. “You always were such a good cook, Alexandre. I’d love to. Shall we start walking back now?”
“We haven’t had coffee yet.” Alexandre waves to a passing waiter. “Two cappuccinos, please, and whatever fresh pastry you have.”
I’m surprised by the order. I hadn’t thought he would get anything for me—in fact, I wasn’t entirely sure that he remembered I was still there at all. I see Yvette narrow her eyes, and I feel a small burst of pleasure at her irritation, as well as the fact that Alexandre thought to order for me.
My emotions feel like they’re on a roller coaster, one that I don’t entirely understand. The doctor I’d been seeing in Manhattan had suggested antidepressants, which I hadn’t taken for more than a day, and which I certainly can’t access now. The fact that I’d hallucinated the jewelry box earlier in the throes of a panic attack has left me feeling shaky and off-kilter, and now Yvette is making me feel even worse. Somewhere in the past couple of days, I realize, I’d started thinking of Alexandre asmine. My captor, my owner—but still mine. And now I’m seeing the life he has outside of his possession of me and the confines of the apartment, and it’s affecting me in ways that make me feel just this side of insane.
Maybe Alexei was right when he said I was too broken. Maybe I’m worse off than I’d thought I was.
The waiter delivers the cappuccinos, a chocolate croissant between them on a small china plate, the flaky pastry glistening in the sunlight. I reach for it without thinking, and Alexandre raps me smartly on the back of my hand like he’s punishing an errant puppy.
“Bad girl,” he says sharply. “Don’t reach for things until I tell you you can have them.”
“She needs training,” Yvette observes lazily, puffing out more smoke. “You’re getting lax, Alexandre.”
“This one is different,” he says sharply, tearing off a piece of the croissant and holding it out to me.
It takes me a moment to realize he wants me to eat it from his fingers. He wants to feed me, and in the apartment, I might not have minded, but out here, it’s different. There are people walking past, and I can feel Yvette’s eyes on me, watching. It makes me feel embarrassed, my cheeks flushing hotly red, and I look at Alexandre plaintively, hoping he’ll understand without my saying that I don’t want to.
“Petit.” He says the word warningly, and my heart skips in my chest.I’m going to make him mad,I realize, and the panic starts to rise up again thickly, making my breath come short until I’m not sure I can eat at all.
Yvette’s nails tap against the table, and I feel a shudder run down my spine.
Obediently, I open my mouth, leaning forward so that Alexandre can feed me the bite of croissant. His fingers brush my lips, the most intimate touch so far, and a shiver runs over my skin, making it prickle with—anticipation? Fear? I don’t know which, but as the flavors of butter and chocolate burst over my tongue, I feel as if I could cry with the convoluted mess of emotions rising up inside of me, pleasure and fear and need and uncertainty, made so much worse by Yvette’s eyes lingering on us both, watching,judging.
“Good girl,” Alexandre murmurs, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of my lower lip. I feel the sensation of it all the way down, tingling between my legs as his blue eyes fix on mine, holding my gaze as I swallow hard, the croissant sticking in my throat as I do.
Yvette clears her throat. “Don’t let the coffee get cold,” she says, her tone sounding as if her teeth are set on edge.
I cast a sideways glance at her, part of me wanting to rebel against Alexandre’s treatment of me and another part enjoying it sheerly because it seems to be annoying her. I fold my hands in my lap, waiting for Alexandre to tell me I can touch the coffee, and he smiles indulgently at me.