“Perhaps.” I follow her into the living room. “I have a surprise for you, tonight.”
“Oh?” Noelle turns towards me, her eyes narrowing curiously. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”
“I know.” I smile indulgently at her. “And we have a room for it at one of the nicest hotels in the city.” I pause, hesitating. “I would like you to bring your brother for dinner there to celebrate and ring in the New Year with us. I want to meet him,petite, if you are ready.”
Noelle hesitates. “I—”
“If it’s too soon, I understand,” I tell her calmly. “But I know how important he is to you. Before we are together much longer, I think it would be good for me to meet him.”
Something about that softens her a little. “Alright,” she says, a hint of uncertainty still in her tone. “He doesn’t—I’ve kept a lot from him, about how we…began. He only knows I have a friend here who I see often, who helped me get home. I don’t want him to know all of it.”
“I understand,petite.” I lean down, kissing her lightly on the lips. “As far as your brother is concerned, our relationship began at Christmas, when you nursed me back to health. The rest of the story can remain vague.”
“Good.” Noelle looks relieved. “I didn’t get anything to wear for a fancy dinner—”
“I have something for you.” I gesture towards the room she stayed in when she lived here, and Noelle follows me, her expression curious. “Look in the closet,petite.”
She gasps when she peeks inside and sees what’s waiting there for her—a velvet dress of a slightly darker red than the ruby rose on her necklace, with a long skirt split up one side and thin straps. On the hanger behind it is a soft black fur stole.
“Alexandre—”
“Don’t say it’s too much.” I rest my hand on her lower back, bending to kiss her neck. “Nothing could be too much for you. I want to spend my lifetime spoiling you, Noelle, treating you as you deserve.”
I have so much to make up for.I don’t say it aloud. We have a tacit agreement not to speak of the past, to begin our story on that night when she saved me. For Noelle, her forgiveness is what was needed to put that behind her, and it only hurts us for it to be brought up.
For me, I know it’s a long road to forgive myself.
I give Noelle time to get ready, calling a cab to the hotel when she is. We slip into it together, my first time out of the apartment since that night; I appreciate the chill of the cold air on my face, the crunch of the snow under my shoes, the scent of winter in the air, and the softness of her hand in mine. I had thought I wanted to die, to leave all this behind, that there was no beauty left in the world for me.
I was so very, very wrong. And I have never been so glad to be alive.
When we get to the hotel, a tall, thin young man with dark hair and similar features to Noelle’s is waiting for us in the lobby, and I know it must be Georgie. He looks at me with a teenager’s careless air, but underneath it, I can see a hint of suspicion.
Noelle walks forward quickly, clearly wanting to be the first to greet her brother. “This is my…friend, Alexandre,” she says, gesturing at me. “Although, I suppose you should know—we’re more than friends. We’re—together. He asked to meet you tonight.”
“Alexandre Sartre.” I hold out my hand, and Noelle’s brother glances at it momentarily. At that moment, I see something shift in him, something protective towards his sister, and I see a glimpse of the man he will grow up to be.
“George Giles,” he says, taking my hand firmly, his voice going down an octave. “I didn’t know my sister was seeing anyone.”
“Because I’m anadult,” Noelle hisses. “Be polite, okay?”
“I will,” George says defensively. “If I like him.”
Noelle glares at him. “Ilike him,” she says firmly. “So be nice.”
As it turns out, Noelle had nothing to worry about. Dinner is a curated room service menu that I have ordered up to the room, served in the dining area of the suite overlooking the city. I quickly learn that George has an interest in history, and it only takes a moment for him to eagerly begin asking me all the questions I can answer about living in Paris.
“It wasn’t hard to convince him to stay,” Noelle says, laughing. “He wasthrilledto live here. He’ll be applying to university soon.”
“Oh?” I glance at him. “I have some contacts. I was—quite interested in the art and antiquities departments of the universities here. I’d be happy to put in a good word wherever you need.”
“Would you?” George’s face lights up. “I think I like him after all,” he says, glancing at his sister, and Noelle smirks.
“What a relief,” she says, deadpan, but I know she means it more than she’s letting on. Her brother’s approval and happiness both mean a good deal to her, and I feel a sense of relief that in one night, I seem to have made genuine progress with both.
We talk and laugh until just before midnight, when Noelle pours champagne, and we watch the clock, counting down the seconds to the new year. I turn to her, tipping her chin up with my fingers as I look into her eyes.
“I never in all my dreams would have imagined myself here tonight, with you, like this,” I murmur softly. “Or that this new year would feel like the first new beginning since I was George’s age. You have begun my life all over again,petite souris.I will never have a greater gift than you.”