The Fight For Love

1941, September 7

She took a stroll with Henri after the lunch meeting, through a small park by a lake. It was a fine say, she sun shining brightly through the trees. It was on days like this were she felt free, she forgot the burden she carried with her every day; about her true identity and her past. Henri smiled at her and they walked, her face beaming.

"I truly have to thank you Henri." He seemed surprised.

"For what exactly have I done to deserve your thanks?" Carla smiled brightly as she skipped across the bridge.

"You have been a most loyal friend to me over these past months, I couldn't have asked for a better person." Henri smiled, but his frown indicated he was confused. Carla corrected herself.

"I mean my Aunt has been most accommodating of course, and Zoe, Gretta, Sofia are all beautiful and most lovely towards me. But they are awfully eccentric, and sometimes a little too much to bear." She giggled at the thought. Henri stopped in the middle of the path. "What is it?" Henri looked around uncomfortably.

"Then no thanks are needed." Carla was now the one who was awfully confused.

"Was it something I said?" She turned around to face Henri, worried she'd offended him somehow.

"Somewhat yes." Carla felt suddenly very awkward.

"Well what was it that I said then?" Henri started walking again, not looking at Carla as she went. "Henri?" He sighed and stopped once again. He spoke quite matter-of-factly.

"You said I was your friend." Carla frowned, she couldn't see anything wrong with the statement.

"But you are my friend, I don't understand, how could you be offended by that." He turned and raised his voice in frustration.

"Because I have no business being your friend!" He sighed and leaned over the bridge. His voice calmed. "I never have, I never will." Carla walked to the bridge beside him.

"Well then what do you want with me then?" Henri picked up her hand and kissed it lightly.

"To be more." Henri whispered, as he looked into her eyes.

"More?" Carla was still confused. He nodded, and he leaned closer to her.

"Much more." He leaned into her, his lips just barely touching hers. Carla closed her eyes, she had never kissed anyone before, so she didn't have much to compare it to, but she felt this kind of electricity radiating through her from his touch. When they pulled apart, Carla felt shocked, she stood there open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Henri smiled and if she had contracted some contagious disease, she smiled too. They began to walk down the path as though nothing had happened. Carla looked up at Henri's smiling face, and she leaned in to hold his hand as they walked. Henri looked down at Carla leaning on his shoulder, seeing her smiling up at him.

"Much more doesn't sound so bad after all." They held onto each other for the rest of the afternoon, as they strolled down the grassy park lane. He was the same man she met that morning for a stroll, yet as she looked up at his pale face and dark eyes she couldn't help but feel like he had changed somehow. Like he was painting, and the artist had tweaked his features slightly somehow without knowing just what had been altered. Then she realised. She smiled. It wasn't him who has changed it was her. Her feelings towards him had been altered by the great artist of life. Earlier that morning when she saw his face she felt a sense great endearment to him, a platonic form of affection. Nothing had necessarily changed as such but her fondness for him felt different. It felt like more. Much more.