Coming Undone

by Melody Calder

  “My rent here is paid weekly so I can leave at any time. I didn't think you would mind because I know you want to leave as soon as possible, so I set up a meeting with the two landlords for two days from now. That will give us time to pack and secure our tickets to Paris. Are you alright with that?”

  The broad smile erupted on his face never and never left. I knew his answer before he spoke, “Of course, I'm alright with your plan. I can't wait to start our lives together in a place where we don't have to hide our love.”

  I jumped up and down in excitement, clapping my hands, “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I'm going to go run down and tell my landlord. When I get back, we can see what things I'm going to take with us. I only have one suitcase. Can we bring boxes on the train?” I had no idea how any of it worked, considering I had never been out of Lyon.

  “We can take boxes, but just remember, we will have to carry them around with us until we secure an apartment. if the first one isn't right for us, we don't want to have to lug everything to the second one,” he told me rationally.

  “That's a good point. You know, nothing in here means anything to me aside from my art. The nuns gave me all of the dishes and the bedding was here when I moved in.”

  “I think it would be good to leave it all, especially since we have the rest of our lives to purchase our own things, and those will be special to us. You should ask your landlord if she doesn't mind you leaving the basics here.”

  “Great idea,” I agreed with him and ran down the stairs taking them two by two. My landlord’s apartment was on the first floor. I knocked loudly on her door, knowing she was a little hard of hearing, and must have been a bit too excited because she answered with a worried look on her face, “Where's the fire, girl?”

  Apologizing, I explained the situation and she agreed to me leaving my meager belongings and wished me well on my journey. “It’s about time you leave this place and go out to the world where there’s excitement for a young woman with such talent. You're such a sweet girl and I would hate for you to end up like me, a lonely old spinster. The world is yours, go get it, Simone.”

  She hugged me, her words and actions causing tears to spring from my eyes. It almost seemed that all I did was cry, since André came back, whether it be tears of joy or sadness. I wondered if all women felt like this, but I had no one to ask. Maybe in Paris I would make friends with people who were more worldly than I was, and I could finally get my answers.

  After finalizing the details and saying goodbye, I rushed back up the stairs, not wanting to take any more time away from André. We had much to do, so much packing and decisions to make. I wasn't sure if all my art supplies would fit in my suitcase and the thought made me nauseous.

  When I made it back to my apartment, André was waiting with my paintings and drawings in his hand, “All of these are perfection, and you can't leave any of them behind. I know we shouldn’t splurge, but I was given an unexpected gift, one that I want nothing to do with. I'm going to see if I can sell it so that I can buy you a proper case for your art.”

  Last confession was so sweet, but my mind landed on the part about an unexpected gift, “What is this gift you speak of?”

  Putting down my art carefully, he took a few steps to the bed and dug around behind it. I had no idea what he was doing but I didn't question him. He seemed intent on searching for something and I wondered what could be hiding there.

  When he rose, he held out a small gold ring and I gasped knowing how expensive jewelry could be. Admittedly, I had perused the jewelry stores in the past and there was nothing I could justify spending my savings on, no matter how beautiful they were.

  “Father Augustine included this in my pay. Sister Marie held onto it for all these years. It belonged to my father, his wedding ring.” I opened my mouth to interrupt him, to tell him he couldn't sell such a priceless object, but he held up his hand and stopped me, “I know what you're thinking, but you also know how I feel about my father. Despite the priest blessing this ring, I could never wear it. Especially when it comes to you. I don't want our marriage to start with me wearing a cursed symbol of the monster my father was. It needs to be out of our life.”

  “I can understand your feelings. I would rather you spend the money on a new ring, one that won’t hold such terrible memories for you.”

  “I don’t need anything fancy,” he assured me. “Once I get a job, I’ll save up and buy a new one. On a happy note, there was more than just this ring in the envelope. My mother’s ring was there, too. I don’t want you to feel pressured to say yes, but I know she would love for you to have it.”

  I let out a contented sigh, “It would be an honor.”

  He scooped me up in his arms and our mouths collided. Every moment of torture we both went through to get here was worth it. We’d endured so much in our lives and probably wouldn’t have appreciated our love as much if things had been simple for us. I knew we would never grow to be the couple who hated each other and bickered constantly. Our children would grow up with the kind of love stories books were written about, and they would never know the tragedies we’d both endured.

  Breaking off the kiss, André insisted, “If we don’t stop now, we will never get your things packed. We will have plenty of time in Paris to spend a full day in bed pleasuring each other.”

  I pouted, but he was right. Our lives were just starting, and I had a lot of things to go through. We started with the clothing, as my own wardrobe was small, consisting of items which were donated to the orphanage for us to take when we left. I laughed as I held up my uniform, one Sister Elizabeth insisted I take. “I can’t decide if I should keep this or toss it.”

  Kissing my neck, his husky whisper sent shivers down my spine, “Keep it. You can wear it just for me.”

  It went into the suitcase, along with the dress I wore to clean the church when I wanted to tempt him. André insisted the women in Paris didn’t cover up all of their skin. I trusted his knowledge and threw away the heavy undershirts I wore while working at my previous job. I was left with very little clothing, but it was enough for now.

  Carefully, I used the rest of the room to store my paints and brushes, wrapping them in the newspaper I’d bought that morning. The only thing left was my art, the one thing André refused to leave behind. He promised to go in the morning and use the traboules to get to the jeweler to sell the ring before he would go to the art supply shop.

  It was well into the night when we finished and both of us were exhausted. I stripped out of my soiled clothing and stepped into the bath. André washed me from head to toe, the soft touch and sensation of his hands sliding over my skin sending heat to my core. “If I weren’t so tired, we wouldn’t sleep at all tonight.” I groaned as he circled my nipples, a mischievous grin on his face.

  “Waiting for what you want makes it so much better when it happens.”

  “Yes, it certainly does,” he replied wistfully before stripping his clothes off and joining me in the tub. The water sloshed out of the tub and he laughed, “We need to put a lot of towels on our list of things to buy immediately.”

  Epilogue - André

  1964, Paris, France

  Six months passed so swiftly, I couldn’t believe it. Our apartment was almost complete as I added the finishing touches. The large studio needed much work but as soon as we saw it, we knew it would be perfect in the end.

  With the landlord’s permission, I created two bedrooms using wood from scraps I found around the city. The local shops were happy to give me their crates and pallets in order to get them out of the way. Everything was smaller in Paris to account for the large population, which worked to my advantage.

  As much as my father traumatized me, he did one thing right in the short time I had with him. He taught me how to build things, a skill I had long forgotten. It came back quickly, though I made several mistakes in the process of relearning everything.

  The landlord checked in on the progress quite often and was
so happy with my work, he not only gave us free rent for a year, he also set me up with a job as an apprentice woodworker. My new boss was a family member of the landlord and I enjoyed working with him and learning the craft. It was only part time, so I made very little in the beginning. Simone and I decided together it was enough to pay the bills and I would learn a skill which would allow me to provide a good life for my family.

  The first project I completed on my own was a surprise for my wife and I couldn’t wait to show her when she arrived home. I timed it right so I would be done with the final touches before she came home from the University.

  She was a star student, already selling paintings at the shows for more francs than anyone else. Her art was priceless to me, as was the joy in her glowing face when she made her first sale. It took several more for her to realize her dream was coming true and she had the talent needed to be a successful artist.

  Abandoning her decision to teach art for the time being, she took on a new creative outlet, learning the craft of sculpting. I didn’t have the heart to tell her how ugly the first one she made was and instead, built a shelf to showcase it.

  It was two weeks before she admitted she hated the sculpture and we had a good laugh at both of us not wanting to hurt each other’s feelings. Still, the sculpture remained in its place to remind us of the little things we did for love.

  My medicine helped and I continued to see the doctor and attend therapy in my spare time. Slowly, I was getting better and my moods more even. I agreed to be a part of a study on my disorder after I completed not only fixing up the apartment, but also my internship. I didn’t want any more of my time to be away from my beautiful wife.

  I stood from the finally completed project and stretched out my back. I loved creating with wood, a passion I never knew I would have, but it was backbreaking work at times.

  My project was perfect in my eyes as I wiped the last of the dust off. Looking at the clock, I realized more time passed than I thought, and I rushed to finish cleaning up before she came home.

  Throwing a sheet over it, I heard the front door open and a smile spread across my face. My body thrummed with excitement as Simone called out my name. “I’m in the back bedroom,” I called back.

  I felt like jumping out of my skin as her footsteps echoed down the short hall I’d created. As soon as the door opened, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her forehead, ignoring the clay covering her dress, “I missed you.”

  She grinned, “I missed you, too. You wouldn’t believe how beautiful the piece I’m working on is turning out.”

  “I’d love to hear about it after I show you your surprise.” I turned her to face the sheet-covered surprise, my hand going automatically to her belly.

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll have to pull the sheet off to find out,” I chuckled.

  She gasped when she saw the crib with intricate carvings of frogs decorating each of the four corners. “André! This is... I... you are amazing!” she stumbled over her words as she gushed. Wiping away the tears, she muttered, “Stupid hormones making me a crybaby. It’s so beautiful and perfect.”

  “It is and I’m excited for our first child to use it, and a dozen more after.” My chest puffed out with pride for not only the work I’d accomplished, but our growing child she carried inside of her.

  “A dozen?” her eyes widened. “I’m not sure I can go through this that many times. I already feel like I swallowed a balloon.”

  “You look like a balloon, but the loveliest one ever made,” I teased, earning myself a smack on the arm. I caught her hand and pulled her to me, peppering kisses on her face before moving down to her belly. “I love the way you look carrying our child. Everything about you is perfect inside and out. I know my mother is smiling down on us, overjoyed that you saved me, her only son and the person she loved the most.”

  Cupping my face with her hands, Simone’s voice broke as she said, “I know she’s proud of you, too. You beat your demons and became a wonderful husband and soon-to-be dad.”

  The thing my counselor taught me was that my father gave me a gift though he took away my mother. With their deaths, I found a life of joy with Simone and that was something I wouldn’t change for the world. She was worth the pain in my life, pain I had no control over despite the guilt I carried for way too long. This was where I was meant to be, with my wife and children to come.

  Acknowledgements

  So many people go into making a book be as perfect as it can be. First a huge thank you to the staff at Butterdragons Publishing for your hard work and dedication to my writing. Every bit of support through the process was amazing. I love working with you all! Natasha at Dazed Designs again made the most beautiful cover, inspiring as always.

  My children who have been amazingly supportive while I write, thank you for understanding that sometimes I just needed time to finish a sentence. Dragon, my puppy who lives up to his name, your nighttime cuddles were immensely helpful when I wrote late at night. Thank you for protecting me from those big bad blowing leaves in the yard.

  My ladies from The Tribe, you always make me laugh. I love our sisterhood in the writing community and couldn’t have picked a better group of women to bond with. Through all our ups and downs, it’s wonderful to have friends like you all. Nichol and Sosha, thank you for all you do to keep social media going while I’m writing and keeping me accountable. Your word count challenges and support means the world to me.

  And most importantly, you the reader. Without you, I wouldn’t be living my dream of writing books to share with the world.

  About Melody Calder

  Melody Calder is a multi-trope romance author who has been creating stories and imaginary worlds since she was a small child pretending to read her mother's romance books. After winning a state competition for her poetry in middle school, her English teacher encouraged her to become an author. Though she put her dream on hold to raise a family, she is making up for it now with creative and captivating stories. Her mind is always full of interesting characters and plot twists. She not-so-secretly loves cliffhangers but tries not to do that to her readers too often. She lives in a small suburb in the Midwest with her husband, three children, grandson, and lab puppy. She loves traveling the U.S. with her family on long road trips and dabbles in arts and crafts when she is not writing. Follow her on social media to learn more about Melody, her books, and her upcoming works.

  Other BDP books by Melody Calder

  Terrifying Love: A Halloween Anthology

  Lorelei: Portrait of a Siren

  Sinfully Yours

  Sexy Drug (Losing My Heart Trilogy Book One)

  Stay Away (Losing My Heart Trilogy Book Two)

  Coming Home (Losing My Heart Trilogy Book Three)

  Heartbreaker