A Fairytale in Provence: part IV

           At Y's later Saturday evening, we arrived with the six cheeses and two loaves of bread (like I've said, cheese and bread are serious business in this country), at Y's. Y had picked up a bucket load of oysters and FWB had also carefully picked two bottles of wine from his personal collection, housed in the cave in his basement. Y then got a call from their friend JP to come to his parent's mansion, seeing as they were away for the weekend.

            I had brought clothes to change into, and needed to freshen up. M lent me her straightening iron and I did my hair and makeup. When I walked out, and just as we were leaving for JP's,  FWB pulled me aside and said in a silly voice ( he's a big goofball half the time ):

             ¨You are dressed too sexily to go out! You have to stay here!¨

             I looked at M. I was in opaque black tights and a long t-shirt dress in a pretty green paisley print that was slightly décolleté, but no where near indecently, and I had put on my favorite red Dior lipstick.  M retorted that it was just because he didn't want other men to steal me.

             ¨Ne t'inquiète pas,¨ I tapped him on the nose. ¨ C'est bien difficile de m'attraper.¨ In other words, there is no need to worry my FWB: I am all yours, and only yours. 

              We--me, FWB, Y, M, and their friend Bob--made our way to JP's a few blocks away. M and I explored the house, which had to date back to the 18th century, while the men opened the oysters and prepared the cheese. Our contribution was plating the pre-cut bread. We sat around the formal table and lit the candelabra and had wine and oysters in the dark.

               Then, like any good adventure in wine country, we explored the cave of the house. It was cold and FWB nestled into me, and then he got my jacket for me. We were glued together, my hand in the back pocket of his jeans, his arm around my waist. I could've stayed there all night tucked into his side.

               *  *  * 

                After dinner, we made our way to the place Pie for drinks. We were seated outside at tables and I was slightly tipsy from all the wine, but not enough to be warm. Seated once again next to FWB, we were once again nestled into one another when Y exclaimed: 

                ¨Alright, I'm finally drunk enough to ask this, are you two together or WHAT? What with all your back rubbing and cuddling!¨

                We were both silent but didn't curl out of each other's arms. 

                The truth is that that is a complicated question. If we were in the same place and not trying to go to each other's respective countries at the same time, I would've without hesitation said yes. Because the other truth is this: I do not want anyone else. I do not want to see any other people anymore. I do not give a damn about E or Monsieur Lawyer. I want FWB and only FWB. And I would give just about anything right now to be able to keep him. I am beginning the heavens on my knees to please just let me keep him. I am tired of dating people who are content to let me get away, I cannot bear to live through another person who just lets me get away. 

                Please don't let me go. Please please please please. 

               But I do not have any answers. Half of me wants to curse myself. This would all be so much easier if he had just gone off into his life and never got back in touch with me. If he had done his trip around the world and disappeared into oblivion like I was completely expecting and mentally prepared for. I never mentally prepared myself for this. If I have to say goodbye again I don't know if I'll be able to handle it.  There are moments when I wish he hadn't found me again. 

               ¨ It's ok. You two will be married in a year!¨ Y chuckled benignly. ¨Well hey, I mean you're both trying to go to each other's countries! You could at least help each other out and get PACSed!¨

               I pulled Y aside and whispered to him that, just between the two of us, FWB had already offered that in September if I needed a way to stay. I didn't say yes....that is not possible when you have to live with the person you PACS, and when my FWB wants to go to my homeland, which will not recognize a PACS. 

                I just want to keep him. Somehow. Someway. And I'm afraid he doesn't feel the same way, that this is just me, that I'm precariously walking the tightrope of vulnerability. 

*  *  * 

                 Once the place Pie shut down at one, we proceeded to dancing. And the rest of the night FWB didn't let me go. He had mentioned earlier in the day that he wanted to learn to salsa. I know the basics so I replied that I could teach him.

                  ¨Not here,¨ he whispered. ¨Some other time.¨ We left the dancefloor a few times to take some air, but he didn't drop my hand. I had become fusionned to him, an apendage, inseparable.

                    We went home at four in the morning, claqués after a long, full day, but quietly smiling in the dark in his car along the back roads of the Vaucluse. And once home, like every night, he put me to sleep in his arms.