Chapter 73
Margaux woke to the dull, relentless pounding in her head, a headache that felt like her brain had been squeezed too tight. Groaning softly, she rolled onto her side, squeezing her eyes shut against the pale sunlight filtering through the curtains.
She fumbled for her phone on the bedside table, glancing at the time. It was already late morning, but her body felt heavy, weighed down by both the previous night and the swirling thoughts it had left in its wake.
After dragging herself out of bed, she shuffled to the kitchen, her bare feet cool against the tile floor. Water. She needed water—no, electrolytes. She grabbed a packet from the cabinet, stirring it into a glass with shaky hands before downing it in large gulps. The taste was sharp but refreshing, a small relief against the haze of dehydration.
A cold shower followed, jolting her senses awake as she let the water rush over her, soothing her headache and washing away the remnants of last night. After drying off, she smoothed a face mask over her skin and padded back to the living room, pulling on a loose robe.
Her routine moved slowly, deliberately. She made herself an omelet, fluffy and simple, topped with fresh herbs. She settled on the couch, propping her feet on the coffee table and savoring each bite. For a brief moment, the world felt steady again, the rhythmic clink of her fork against the plate grounding her.
Once the plate was cleared and her headache had faded to a dull thrum, Margaux picked up her phone, scrolling through her contacts. Her thumb hovered over Céline’s name. She hesitated. No, not Céline. Instead, she scrolled further until she found Pierre’s name.
Her finger lingered for a moment before she pressed the call button.
The line rang twice before Pierre’s warm, cheerful voice answered. “Margaux! What a surprise!”
She smiled faintly, her heart warming at his enthusiasm despite the tight knot in her chest. “Salut, Pierre. I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“Never for you,” he said with a chuckle. “What’s on your mind?”
Margaux hesitated, inhaling deeply. “I... I wanted to talk to you about something. About yesterday.”
Pierre’s tone softened, curious but not pressing. “Okay.”
She launched into a hesitant explanation, her words spilling out in a rush. “I kissed someone. A guy. It wasn’t supposed to happen—it just did. He’s... we’re friends, or at least, we were supposed to be. And I thought it was just that, just friendship, but then... I don’t know. I think there’s something else there, but I didn’t see it before. Or maybe I did, but I didn’t want to see it.”
Her voice faltered, and she sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple. “And I know I told you it was fine to date other people, and we’ve only been on a few dates, but it still feels... wrong? Like I’ve betrayed you somehow, even though I know I haven’t.”
Pierre was silent for a moment, processing her whirlwind of words. “Margaux,” he said finally, his tone gentle but steady, “slow down. You’re talking in circles.”
She let out a breathless laugh, recognizing the truth in his words.
“Look,” Pierre continued, “you kissed someone. It happens. You’re being honest about it, which is more than most people would do. And as for us, we were always just... seeing where things go, weren’t we?”
“Yes, but—”
“No ‘buts,’ Margaux. If it’s just friends, it’s just friends, right?”
She swallowed hard, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. “Yes. Just friends.”
“Then there’s no harm done,” Pierre said lightly. “We’re both adults. And besides, I’m not holding you to anything. You’ve always been kind and honest with me. That’s all anyone can ask for.”
Margaux’s chest loosened slightly, the guilt easing under the weight of his understanding. “Thank you, Pierre. Really. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel.”
“Grateful, mostly,” he said with a teasing lilt. “Grateful you kissed him and not me. Saves me from wondering if I’m the bad kisser.”
Margaux laughed, the sound lightening the air between them. “You’re impossible.”
“See you at the ball, then?” he asked, his tone playful.
She hesitated. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“What do you mean? Now I have to come more than ever,” he replied with mock indignation. “I’m going to put on my best suit and charm all those rich ladies. Leave them dazzled.”
Margaux shook her head, still laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But I’m not wrong,” he quipped. “Take care of yourself, Margaux. And don’t overthink everything. You’ve got a good heart.”
The call ended amicably, leaving Margaux with a faint smile. Pierre’s kindness had steadied her, and for the first time since waking, she felt like she could breathe again. Margaux picked up her phone again. Her thumb hovered over Céline's name again, only this time she didn't hesitate. There was no one better to call now that she had told Pierre.
The phone rang a few times before Céline answered, her voice bright and curious. “Hey, Margaux! Didn’t expect to hear from you this early. What’s up?”
Margaux sighed, her free hand brushing through her still-damp hair. “I need to talk. Do you have time?”
“For you? Always,” Céline said without hesitation. Her words feeling like sweet victory to Margaux who felt there was no one else she could confide on. Jane and Kate were close friends of William- especially Kate. The last thing she wanted was to confess to them everything that had taken place yesterday and even worse, to hear what they had to say about it. “What’s going on?” Céline asked.
Margaux leaned back, her head resting against the couch. “It’s... a lot. Can I start from the beginning?”
“Of course. I’m all ears.” Céline answered truthfully and warmly. They had been best friends for years for a reason.
And just like that, Margaux let the words pour out, the comfort of Céline’s familiar voice making it easier to untangle the thoughts that had been weighing her down since the night before.