Chapter Twenty-Four
Chance
The city looked spectacular from the Seine. Millions of lights sparkled on every building from leagues around, and it looked as though the city had been plucked from some fantastical world of wonder. The contrast of the lights against the white canopies of snow only served to make the scene that much more beautiful.
Natalie was entranced. We were sitting in a private room on one of the Seine’s most reputed water cruises. The boat was relatively small, compared with some of the others we had seen, but it was unique in that it held private cabins for romantic dinners. Our room was small and somewhat circular. Our table had been placed beside the large clear windows, from which we could see all of Paris as we floated by. There was soft music playing in the background, and candles had been placed around the little cabin in little star-carved candleholders that cast shadow stars onto the walls around us.
Natalie sat opposite me, looking spectacular in a red, floor-length slip dress. She looked like she belonged on the set of an Audrey Hepburn movie. Her dark hair had been combed into shiny waves that cascaded over one shoulder, and her eyes were ringed with charcoal liner that brought out the blue of her eyes. I could barely look away from her. She, however, could barely take her eyes off of Paris.
“There it is,” Natalie said, pointing in one direction. “Notre Dame!”
I smiled. “We saw it this morning remember?” I reminded her. “We walked inside, looked around, took some pictures.”
She laughed. “I know. It’s just that seeing it from this perspective is so different. And it looks amazing at night... It’s a shame that architecture has become so mundane. Look at how much more impressive medieval architecture is. It has so much character, so much strength.”
I looked at her in amusement. Sometimes when she spoke, I felt as though she belonged in another time. She loved history and mythology. She loved old-fashioned clothes and old-timey movies. She loved old-age architecture and traditional food. That was one of the reasons I was so fascinated with her. She was an old soul.
There was nothing frivolous about her. She didn’t live her life based on other people’s expectations. She did what felt right to her and stayed away from society’s opinions. I realized that that was the one quality that had made this relationship last. I didn’t just lust after her; I respected her, I admired her. I wanted to know her as I had never wanted to know another woman before her.
“I agree.” I nodded. “But do you think it’s the architecture that lends character or the historical significance of the structure.”
“Both,” she replied promptly. “It can only be both. Its history gives you chills when you walk through the building, but its architecture alone can make you speechless with awe. You realize Notre Dame was constructed before man had the benefit of modern technology. It took nearly a hundred years to construct.”
“I do happen to know that,” I nodded.
“I love Gothic architecture,” she sighed. “Particularly French Gothic architecture. Seeing it just naturally makes you believe in evil queens and long-lost princesses and gargoyles coming to life.”
I laughed. “I think I’m missing something.”
“I used to daydream a lot as a child,” Natalie confessed. “Gothic Cathedrals and castles were always the setting to my daydreams. The architecture inspires fairytales, in my opinion.”
“For a second there, I thought I had misread the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
“Victor Hugo,” Natalie sighed. “He’s always been one of my favorites. The Hunchback was my second favorite work of his though. My first was always Les Miserables.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
At that moment, the door to our cabin opened, and an impeccably-dressed waiter walked in. He greeted us warmly and replenished our wine glasses. Then our first course was brought in – Oysters a la Russe. The moment the waiters disappeared, Natalie leaned in for a better look at her dish.
“Wow,” she said. “It looks…strange.”
“I take it you’ve never had oysters before?”
“I haven’t,” she shook her head.
“Try an oyster and then take a sip of the wine,” I suggested. “They’re pairing each course tonight with a special vintage.”
Natalie raised her eyebrows. “We’re getting a different wine with each course?”
“We are.” I nodded. “It’s traditional. They pair each course with the wine that will enhance the flavor palette.”
“It’s strange… I’ve known all that and yet it seems so…”
“So?”
“Decadent,” she said. “Extravagant. Makes me feel like…”
“A princess in a Gothic fairytale?” I offered.
She laughed. “So, what is the name of this wine?”
“It’s a Chablis,” I told her. “It goes brilliantly with oysters.”
We had a wonderful time eating our first course, and I saw Natalie’s eyes light up as she sipped the wine. “Wow,” she breathed. “This is quite the experience.”
“You’ve never had an authentic French meal before?”
“No, but it’s more than that,” she said. “I’ve never had a multi-course meal before.”
I felt a little burst of satisfaction in knowing that I could give her this experience. It made me excited for the rest of our meal. The soup course came next, and the waiters brought us a beetroot consommé with sherry. Then we had the poached salmon with mousseline sauce, which was paired with moselle. Next was Chicken Lyonnais with red Bordeaux, and our main course was lamb with mint sauce and red Burgundy. Finally, dessert was brought through and we enjoyed peaches in chartreuse jelly with French vanilla ice cream.
The last course was an assortment of fine French chocolates with coffee, and as soon as the waiters disappeared from the cabin, Natalie turned to me with a huge smile on her face.
“This has got to be the most amazing meal I’ve ever eaten,” she said. “No contest.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“Liked it?” she repeated emphatically. “I loved it. I might have to move to France now.”
I smiled. “That was actually more fun for me than I could have imagined.”
“And, why is that?”
“Well because for once, I felt like I was teaching you something,” I said. “It always feels like you know everything and I’m the student.”
“Hardly,” Natalie said, but I could tell that she was flattered by the compliment.
“I’m serious,” I said. “I thought I was quite a knowledgeable guy before I met you. Apparently, the only topic I can best you in is French cuisine.”
She laughed, and then she looked out at the Seine in all its glory. “Did you know that the word ‘Seine’ comes from the Latin Sequana? She was the Gallo-Roman Goddess of the river.”
I smiled. “And, we’re back. No, I didn’t know that.”
“And, did you know that it is believed that Joan of Arc’s ashes were thrown into the Seine after her burning?”
I smiled. “I didn’t know that, either.”
Natalie nodded and turned towards the water. “There’s so much history here… Maybe that’s why this city is so magical. There are a hundred million stories that have yet to be discovered.”
“It’s a romantic notion.”
“She was always one of my heroes, Joan of Arc,” Natalie continued. “She was brave and strong, and she was so very young. She was only nineteen when she died, but she still managed to live a whole life before she was burned at the stake.”
I smiled. “There’s still time for you to start a few revolutions,” I teased.
Natalie laughed. “As much as I loved and admired Joan, I wouldn’t want her kind of life. I don’t need to be a hero. I’d settle for being happy, really.”
“And, are you?” I asked. “Are you happy?”
“I thought I was.” She nodded thoughtfully. “And then I met you, and suddenly I realized I’d been using the word happiness in all the wrong places. You introduced me to what real, true happiness looks like.”
It was amazing how simple and straightforward she put it. She didn’t mince her words or hide behind her feelings. She offered the truth to me as though speaking truths was the easiest thing in the world. That alone was brave. She wasn’t trying to manipulate my feelings or get me to make a commitment. She was telling me how she felt because she wasn’t the type of woman to play games. It was refreshing, but it was also terrifying.
I recalled the morning after we had landed in Paris. She had told me she loved me twice, and I had been unable to reply. Another woman might have acted differently. Another woman might have turned her face from me and moped around for the remainder of the trip, thus forcing me into saying the words whether or not I felt them.
But Natalie was different. She didn’t push for an answer, nor did she act upset or hurt that I hadn’t replied to her sentiment. She had got on with our trip as though she hadn’t just put her heart on the line for me.
We’d had breakfast in bed that morning, I had taken her in the shower twice, and then we had started our exploration of Paris. She hadn’t told me she loved me again after that morning; I didn’t know how to feel about that. A part of me wanted her to tell me she loved me again, and another part of me wanted to continue on as though no declaration had been made. Several times, I felt the need to address the unspoken moment, but I chickened out at the last minute.
“Chance?” Natalie’s voice was soft.
“Yes.”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” she asked. “Because I don’t mean to be. I just… I suppose when I feel strongly about certain things, I tend to just speak my mind or my heart. I don’t expect you to return the sentiment. I’m just telling you where I stand.”
I looked at her for a moment, realizing how lucky I was to find a woman like Natalie. I rose from my seat and offered a hand to her. “Dance with me,” I said.
“Dance with you?”
“Yes.”
“There’s no room,” Natalie pointed out.
“We need enough room to hold each other and sway,” I told her. “We have enough room for that.”
Natalie smiled and took my hand. I pulled her close to me, and we started to sway in time to the music. We moved like that for a long time. I leaned in and kissed her long and slow and passionately. When we pulled apart, her lips were raw from the kiss.
“We keep talking about all your firsts in this relationship,” I said. “I was the first man you kissed and the first man you slept with.”
“You were,” Natalie nodded; uncertain of where I was going.
“We never really spoke about my firsts.”
“I wasn’t aware you had very many firsts left,” she said.
“Neither was I,” I nodded. “Until I realized you’re the only woman I’ve actually wanted to have a relationship with. Until I realized that you are the only woman that I’ve ever truly…loved.”
Natalie stared at me for a moment, as though she wasn’t quite sure she had heard right. I could see the burning hope in her eyes, and it made my heart break for a moment. “You love me?”
“I love you.” I nodded. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say that to you. It was just that—”
“You were scared,” she replied for me. “It’s okay… I know.”
“Will you forgive me?”
“Maybe,” she said, with a small smile. “If you keep reminding me.”
I laughed and kissed her, before proceeding to whisper the words in her ear once more.