“You are right,” I replied and left his office.
I couldn’t explain to myself why I was acting this way at work or for everything that my manager had just said. I didn’t care at that point in time and I ignored it.
I was in a hurry because I didn’t want to stand Camellia up and as I reached the Café de Flore I saw her already sitting and drinking her fruit juice.
“I’m a little late. I’m sorry,” I said.
I didn’t like to be late for my rendezvous. I always thought that time was a precious gift and we should manage it in the best possible way.
“Don’t worry, come, sit,” she replied with a smile and we kissed each other on the cheek.
“How are you? We haven’t spoken for a while,” I said.
“I’m okay. And you? You look upset.”
“I’m fine. I was just late because my manager was reprimanding me and some other stuff…”
“Reprimanding you? You are the best in the business.”
“I was… a lot of things have changed since then,” I replied, complaining. “I will have the same fruit juice please,” I told the waiter who was standing over me to take my order.
“I told you! You will eventually lose your job!” Camellia kept on warning me.
“But I can’t do any different. I’m thinking of her all the time. I want her back,” I said, as my eyes met hers.
“Please, Jacques, don’t start again. Forget about her. She now belongs to someone else,” she replied and glanced casually towards the road.
“Does she want him? Does she love him?” I asked. I could see that she wasn’t answering and she lifted her hand to call the waiter so we could pay.
“Jacques, I love you to bits and I once told you that you were the only man that I’d met who was always nice and pleasant, but I’m sorry. I can’t talk about Eve all the time. It makes you worse, can’t you understand that? I’ve already regretted seeing you at her wedding. You were a mess…”
“Yes, I was a mess, but I wish her happiness and I don’t mind,” I whispered. She lowered her hand.
“Why are you preoccupied with things that make you unhappy? That’ll kill you! Even if I tell you that Eve wants him and loves him, will it make a difference to you?” she asked with a pleasant expression.
“It won’t change a thing. It would be an answer that will give me peace of mind. I honestly want to know if she is still thinking about me and if she loves Thomas.”
“In my opinion, it’s not worth wasting your time on things that will not bring her back to you and you should get on with your life. You look tired and miserable and it saddens me to see you like that,” she replied, grabbing my hand.
“I know. You’re right, but I can’t control it. I’m overwhelmed by grief. I think about her constantly. At the office, in the house, on the street, everywhere!’ I replied, leaving money on the table for the fruit juices, and I stood up.
Her hand made a sudden move and grabbed my wrist, preventing me from leaving.
“You are my best friend and the best man I have ever met. I wish I could help, Jacques. Please, forget about her.” Those were her words.
A tear appeared underneath her black sunglasses. She put her handbag on her shoulder and stood up, subtly wiping away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She left. She started walking quickly towards the metro station.
I was just standing on the same spot and watched her as she walked away without being able to say anything else or to put any more pressure on her.
Time went by…
Another excruciating month passed, tormenting me on an everyday basis and I still hadn’t managed to get her out of my mind.
Winter was coming and you could notice it from the morning frost and the yellowed leaves of the bare trees, which were scattered on the pavement.
At work things had started to worsen. My manager was making comments, even though I was once the best salesman and estimator in the office.
I wasn’t in the mood for working or for my personal matters and I wasn’t taking care of myself.
One cold evening, I was walking casually from the centre of Paris to my house. I didn’t take my car on purpose. I felt the need to walk alone and I confess that I regretted it later on because it was very cold! I had turned up the collar of my leather jacket over my chin, covering almost all my face.
“Jacques?” a voice sounded for far away.
I immediately turned around to see who the woman’s voice belonged to.
“Camellia, what are you doing here?” I exclaimed when I saw her waving at me from inside her pink car.
“Get in, let me take you home,” she blurted.
“It’s okay, I want to walk today that’s why I didn’t take my car.”
“Come on, I’ll take you. You can walk another day. It’s freezing today,” she said with a smile and I started to cross the road to go to her.
I observed that her happy expression was lost as soon as she saw me approaching.
“What’s wrong with you Jacques?” she asked, dreading the reply.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Fine? You’ve lost ten kilos and you look awful,” she told me, touching my face.
“I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong with me,” I responded, knowing that I was a wreck.
“Are you eating at all?”
“Hmm… Very little. I don’t feel like eating,” I replied.
“You’re being silly. I can’t stand seeing you like that. I’ll come to your place so we can cook together.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Don’t argue with me! It wasn’t a question. I’m coming,” she said and kept on driving in a rather agitated manner, slamming the gear stick with her fingers all the way there.
We arrived at my house and I unlocked the door. Camellia came inside and stood still. She was speechless! She looked terrified. She came face to face with a bunch of photos I had taken with Eve, thrown everywhere as well as greeting cards and letters that we had written to each other. On the sofa, on the dining table, on the floor… everywhere was Eve’s image!
“Jacques, we won’t get along,” she exclaimed and started picking up whatever was in front of her.
“Don’t, please. It took me days to gather all this.”
“It will take you more than that to feel alive and fit, as you always were,” she replied, looking into my eyes and bent over to pick up more photos.
With her sad face it seemed like she was silently crying. I bent down next to her to make sure she was alright and I softly touched her on the chin. I lifted her head so she could look into my eyes, realizing that her beautiful face was full of bitter tears.
She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me against her. Her concern for me moved me. I thought of her as a sister too. Unfortunately, her hug made me break out in tears and I started crying. We stayed in each other’s arms on the floor for a few minutes, without speaking.
“Don’t do this to yourself,” she whispered.
“But I can’t picture her in another man’s arms. In a few days she will bring her child into this world. Have you found out if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Jacques, please. You are going to get depressed and there is no escape.”
“Boy?” I asked.
“Girl…” she answered sharply.
“I’m sure she’ll look just like her,” I replied with a sigh and I sat on the sofa.
“She is still thinking about you Jacques,” Camellia murmured.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’m answering all the questions you have been posing for months. She thinks about you and she misses you a lot,” she said and sat on the sofa with me.
“It’s enough that she misses me,” I replied with a sad smile.
“Eve had only you in her heart and no one else. But now that she’s married and she’s having a child, it would be for the best if you never met again,” Camellia said. She was absolutely right.
&nb
sp; “I had no intention of going anywhere near her. I would never do that. The only thing that I do sometimes is…” I said, pausing.
“I’m listening…”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Jacques! Speak!”
“I sometimes pass outside her house and I look at her as she goes inside. I don’t go near her, I swear!”
“If you continue like that you’ll go mad. I’m warning you!”
“It makes me happy. Looking at her gives me life.”
“It doesn’t give you life! It’s killing you, can’t you understand that?” she replied sharply.
“Maybe I like killing myself…” I whispered.
She hugged me again, showing her support one more time. I could see it in her eyes that she cared about me and she wanted to protect me.
While we were in each other’s arms my wet cheeks were pressed against her sleek hair and I didn’t want to let her go.
We were both in a terrible state and a little wine would be exactly what was needed in our situation. We sat on the sofa for quite a while talking about Eve and reminiscing the happy moments that we had all together.
After we finished our wine and were distracted for a while, it was time to say goodnight and for her to go home.
“Goodnight, Jacques,” she said, giving me a hug and she went to kiss me on the cheek.
Our lips met, resulting in me kissing her warm, bright red lips and not her cheek as I intended to.
I was so embarrassed and I took a step back, watching her expression. She felt uncomfortable too. She put her handbag nervously on her shoulder and left hastily from my apartment, taking the building stairs down so she wouldn’t have to wait for the lift and increase the awkwardness.
‘That was stupid of me. I didn’t mean to…’ I said to myself, closing the door.
We got caught up in the conversation and we didn’t have time to cook. I promised her that I would eat something as soon as she was gone. Even though I hadn’t eaten all day, I wasn’t at all hungry. I didn’t feel like eating.
I knew deep inside that Eve was still thinking about me and was still in love with me. She wouldn’t be with someone else just to hurt me! She loved me a lot and you could tell. I loved her too and I will always love her even if she is in someone else’s arms…
Now the piece that I was looking for had completed the puzzle and I was so mad with myself that I’d let her go. The sadness that surrounded me was unbearable!
‘Since we loved each other why did we break up?’ I was thinking. Her aunt was the root of all evil, I kept saying, trying to put the blame on someone else. The truth was that she was waging war with her every day that passed. Afterwards, Thomas entered her life and from my part I told her the final goodbye. I couldn’t give her the family that she wanted.
As I was having these painful and poisonous thoughts, I grabbed my mobile and I turned it off. I didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone today. I started pacing and making awkward and sudden movements so I wouldn’t have to think of her anymore!
After a while, I started picking up all our personal items, photographs, several gifts, some of her clothes from inside her closet and I put them in a suitcase, pushing it under the bed. Yes, me! I made everything that reminded me of her vanish. It was unbelievable but I did it…
I started packing my suitcase. A few things, only what was necessary. I hadn’t decided where I was going, but I didn’t care at all. I wanted to leave everything behind me. To forget about everything and go as far away as I could.
Even though we hadn’t been together for long, we had got used to one another and we could have had a whole life together, as we had always planned. Unfortunately, our plans changed and I’ll have to redefine my whole life on my own. I packed my suitcase, locked the front door and left the apartment…
It was dawn and the sunlight had already started to appear though the grey Parisian clouds.
I was saying goodbye to Paris after twelve years. I was 30 years old when I moved to France and I spent a big part of my life there.
Unfortunately, after my relationship with my only love ended badly, I couldn’t live in Paris any more. Everything reminded me of her and I couldn’t stand to live like that.
I knew that my friends would worry about me, but I had already made my decision to abandon this city once and for all. I didn’t want to speak to anybody, not to a friend, not to my father, not even to my boss obviously, who would be waiting for me the next day at the office.
It was a natural consequence that I would lose my job. A job that anyone would envy. A managerial position in a worldwide enterprise that was promoting works of art and estimating collectors’ items, with a good salary and envious bonuses. It was the last thing I cared about.
If my mother was alive, I would have probably told her where I was going to go because I had a soft spot for her, as far as I could remember her.
I was 15 years old when my father told us that he was going on a long trip and he never came back after that.
My father and I hadn’t a great relationship. On the contrary, we were fighting quite a lot and we antagonized each other. From the day he left Paris with his second wife and permanently settled in America, we lost contact. We talked once a month on the phone and sent some meaningless emails, trying to retain communication, without result as it turned out.
As I was making my way towards the airport, I had decided that my next destination would be romantic Venice.
I’d always loved that city. I called it dreamlike and for a good reason. It would certainly be hard to adapt to a different place other than Paris, with a new job, a new house and in a more compact environment. I would certainly try though.
I took the next flight to Rome and from there an internal flight to Venice.
Throughout the flight I was deep in thought, with a sad look, filled with disappointment. As I was observing the thick clouds from the plane’s small window, I saw Eve’s image smiling at me and I was certain that she was looking at me as well!
Venice… it was the place where we had created our dreams… Eve and I.
“Buon Giorno!” the voice of a traditional Venetian, who had a thin and well-groomed moustache, welcomed me as soon as I got off the airplane.
I was lost in my thoughts and couldn’t enjoy my trip and I could think of nothing else but the last look I shared with Eve at the church’s steps.
I kept thinking of returning to Paris but I always changed my mind. It was impossible for me to go back. It was beyond my powers. I knew that if I returned it would be the end of me…
As soon as I arrived at my hotel, that was overlooking the Grand Canal I put my suitcase on the floor in my room and I laid on the bed tormented by my dreadful and miserable thoughts.
I spent the whole day in my hotel room and out on the small balcony, gazing at the gondolas that were going back and forth with happy couples taking romantic rides.
The next morning, I bought a local newspaper so I could look for a house. I had made my decision and I was not going to back out. Paris was over for me.
The options for available houses were limited in Venice. One advert caught my attention. It was an old, stone house with an aristocratic character and it was selling at a reasonable price.
I immediately phoned the owner from my mobile, using my new Italian phone number that I had purchased from a shop in the airport and we arranged a meeting straightaway so I could view the house.
My Italian was fluent because of my job so I didn’t have a problem communicating like most people have when they move to another country.
“Good morning!” the owner of the house said, who was waiting for me in a café, drinking his coffee. He was a laid back guy, well off, you could tell at a first glance.
“Good day to you!” I replied with a smile.
“My name is Domenico.”
“Jacques, nice to meet you.”
“Jacques, where are you from?”
“I was actually born in G
reece but my mother was French and for the last few years I have been living in Paris.”
“Paris is beautiful. The city of love. And of course Greece is a lovely country, I love it.”
“It’s unique indeed, though I haven’t been for years.”
“Do you like Venice? Have you been here before?”
I froze. I hesitated to answer.
“I have visited in the past and I admit that it had enchanted me as a city and it’d given me good memories.”
“I imagine you didn’t come alone…”
‘I came one time alone because of my job and once with my girlfriend. To tell you the truth with my girlfriend we were planning to stay permanently here,” I replied and lowered my head without realizing.
“That’s nice. You never know it could be your lucky house. Are we going to wait for her or are the two of us going to go to see the house?” he asked. I felt a nasty tingling in my hands from nervousness.
“Wait for whom?”
“The girl.”
“No, you misunderstood or rather I wasn’t clear. We are going by ourselves, no girl is coming. To be exact, she is my ex-girlfriend,” I answered with difficulty.
“Okay, I understand and I apologize… shall we go then, it takes five minutes from here,” Dominico said and we started walking through Venice’s cobbled alleys.
He seemed like a nice man and very sociable. In other words, a chatterbox. He wanted to engage in conversation and to talk continuously, something that I couldn’t do at that precise moment in my life and I wasn’t opening up easily nor was I talking a lot despite his efforts.
As I was observing the cobble road that was leading up to the house, I started to turn pale. As soon as I laid eyes on it, a frozen smile was imprinted on my face, causing me to have mixed feelings.
It was a traditional and unusual two storeys stone house that was in an enchanting and quaint alley.
Did I Seduce You Mr Jacques Page 5