Page 107 of Saint Céline
The softness in her voice irritated me.
“Chad?”
“Who else?”
“Yes,” I said. “He did.”
Her shoulders tightened. “Did you enjoy that? He’s a good man; he didn’t deserve this.”
I considered lying. “No.”
She turned back, surprised despite herself.
I continued, “I enjoyed him being gone. Not his pain specifically.”
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“No.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because it is true.”
She studied me, the anger in her face shifted into something warier.
“You really don’t know how to be a decent man, do you?”
“No, my love. For some reason, I can only be wicked when it comes to you.”
I took another step closer.
“You should go to lab,” I said.
“You brought me in here to tell me that?” She laughed once, quietly and disbelieving.
“I didn’t bring you in here. You came, remember?”
Her lips parted as if to argue, then closed again.
Céline glanced toward the door.
She looked at me and said, “If you ever speak to Thad again, I’ll make you regret it.”
The threat should have amused me. It didn’t, at least not entirely. Because there was something protective in it, and I disliked that. Thad did not deserve her protection. But perhaps that was the point with Céline. She protected what she had already harmed because damage did not cancel attachment for her. It only complicated it until affection became unrecognizable.
I thought of Katherine’s notes in my desk. Yes. That pattern was familiar.
“I won’t seek him out,” I said.
“That is not what I said.”
“It is what I’m offering.”
Her eyes searched mine for a trap.
“There’s always a trap with you.”
“Yes, there is, my love.”
