Chapter 38
Elena
The moment I saw Maxime standing in the front hall, my heart dropped straight through the floor. Uncle Étienne and I had been seconds away from kissing in the garden, and now here was Maxime, looking earnest and hopeful, while my face was probably still flushed with guilt. I could feel Uncle Étienne go rigid behind me, and I knew I needed to do something—anything—to defuse this before it exploded.
"Maxime!" I said brightly, forcing my face into what I hoped looked like a surprised smile even though it felt stiff and fake, like I was acting in a play I hadn't rehearsed for. "I didn't know you were coming by." I stepped forward quickly, putting distance between myself and Uncle Étienne, trying to make it look like we'd just been having a casual conversation instead of standing so close our breaths had mingled.
"I actually already know Maxime," I continued, the words tumbling out too fast. "We met at Sciences Po—he's been really helpful with my coursework." The explanation sounded reasonable enough, but I could feel Uncle Étienne's eyes boring into the back of my head, analyzing every word, trying to figure out exactly what Maxime was to me.
Uncle Étienne moved to stand beside me, and when I glanced up at him, my stomach clenched. His features were carefully neutral, but his eyes were dark as they moved between Maxime and me, and I could see the muscle jumping in his jaw. "I see," he said quietly, his voice carrying that dangerous softness that meant he was displeased. "And how long have you two been... acquainted?"
The pause before "acquainted" was deliberate, weighted with unspoken questions. Heat crept up my neck because I knew what he was really asking—how close were we, what did this boy mean to me, and why hadn't I mentioned him before. "Just a few weeks," I said quickly, twisting my hands together in a nervous gesture that made me look guilty of something. "We're in the same international relations seminar. It's nothing—I mean, we're just classmates."
But even as I said it, I saw Maxime's expression shift, a flicker of hurt crossing his face that made guilt twist in my stomach because we weren't just classmates, not really. He'd been pursuing me with increasing determination, asking me to study sessions that felt more like dates, finding excuses to walk me to the metro, making his interest clear even though I'd been carefully avoiding giving him any encouragement.
"Elena's being modest," Maxime said with an easy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "She's brilliant in class—her perspectives on Eastern European politics are fascinating. I've been trying to convince her to co-present with me at the spring symposium." He took a step closer, his hand coming up as if to touch my arm, and I saw Uncle Étienne's whole body tense like a coiled spring.
"How... thoughtful," Uncle Étienne said, and the word came out clipped and cold. His eyes were fixed on Maxime with an intensity that was almost predatory, taking in every detail—the expensive casual clothes, the confident posture, the way he stood too close to me. I could practically see Uncle Étienne cataloging information, making judgments, deciding that this boy was a threat.
The thought sent a complicated thrill through me even as I knew I should probably be annoyed by his obvious possessiveness. But instead I felt that traitorous warmth bloom in my chest, that secret pleasure at being claimed even if he had no right to claim me.
Before anyone could say more, I grabbed Maxime's elbow. "Actually, can I talk to you for a second?" I said, already pulling him toward the corner of the corridor before he could answer. I could feel Uncle Étienne's eyes on us the whole way, burning into my back.
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The moment we were around the corner, Maxime's whole demeanor changed, his confidence giving way to something more vulnerable. "Elena, I'm sorry for just showing up like this," he said in a low voice, stepping closer. "But after last night, I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay." He paused, his eyes searching mine. "And I was afraid you were angry with me. I thought maybe if I came by, if we could spend today together—the whole day—I could make it up to you."
My heart sank because I could hear the hope in his voice, could see the way his eyes were bright with anticipation. "Maxime, I can't," I said gently. "I have training today. My schedule is really packed right now."
"What about tonight then?" he pressed, his hand finding my elbow. "After training? We could have dinner, just the two of us."
I hesitated, my mind racing through possible excuses, because the truth was I didn't want to have dinner with Maxime, didn't want to encourage whatever he was building up to. But I also couldn't figure out how to say no without being rude. "I... okay," I finally said, the words feeling like a mistake even as they left my mouth. "Dinner tonight."
Maxime's face lit up, and before I could process what was happening, he leaned in like he was going to kiss my cheek—a casual, friendly gesture that was completely normal but that made panic spike through me because I knew if Uncle Étienne saw it he would lose his mind. I jerked back instinctively and practically fled back to where Uncle Étienne stood, positioning myself firmly at his side like seeking shelter.
Uncle Étienne's eyes met mine, and I saw the flicker of satisfaction in his expression before he masked it. "Everything settled?" he asked coolly, but his hand came to rest on my lower back—a gesture that looked casual but that I could feel was staking a claim.
"Yes," I said breathlessly, acutely aware of the warmth of his palm through my shirt. "Everything's fine."
But it wasn't fine. Nothing was fine.