sign {h.s.}

capítulo quarenta e oito

H A R R Y ' S P O V

"I don't know what happened between you and my little sister. Honestly, I don't think I want to know; because, at the end of the day, I have respect for you. And I don't want to lose that. What I do know is this: you got my baby sister out of bed at one of the toughest times in her life. Maybe you don't see that as some miraculous feat, but I do. Everyone in my family does. We tried so hard and she was just in there and we didn't know what to do other than leave her be. But you came and within an hour she... she was like a new person. 

"You're good for her," there is a pause in the message, sounding like Caleb is clearing his throat. Though, when he continues his voice is significantly quieter. Still, I can hear him clearly, but it sounds as though he is trying to keep the phone call a secret. "I know you're good for her. Whatever happened between the two of you... you're still good for her. You just did a bad thing or she just did a bad thing--I don't know. But, I know it isn't impossible to fix. Fix whatever mistake you made, or she made." 

A moment of silence fills the phone call. Subconsciously, my hand clenches around my phone as I hold it to my ear. While it is Caleb calling me, there is still some hope that I will hear just the smallest note of her voice in the background of the call. Even still: just the notion of Cassidy makes butterflies of hope flutter through my stomach; even when I am unsure of what it is that I am hopeful for. "Please," Caleb continues, nothing short of pleading this time. "It's not over yet. I've seen her. She is hurt, but she isn't broken. That's my little sister, and I love her. I know this is not the ideal phone call to receive after a relationship falls apart, but she helped me through my relationship troubles; so, this is me pathetically attempting to return the favor. I am begging you: please, don't give up on her."

With that, the phone clicks dead. Whether it is because the message ran out of time or because he had run out of things to say; I am unsure. 

Suddenly, I feel overwhelmed with a sickness to my stomach as I look to the bed beside me. Étienne lays next to me, starkly naked. Bits and pieces of the night before are vague and unclear. But, I can remember with certainty that I had not slept with the man beside me. Speaking honestly and from the heart: I had every intention to. I needed something--someone--to break me from Cassidy's spell. I was willing to do things that I shouldn't just to help myself move on. All along, I have known Cassidy is too good for me. Regardless of how good she makes me feel and how much of a better man I want to be for her, when finally she realized what I have known all along, I didn't even give her the courtesy of fighting for her. I bowed my head in submission and accepted what I deemed my fate. Good things don't happen to me. They never have. From the moment I met her, I knew Cassidy was good. 

There was no revelation. 

There was no moment in which something of a lightbulb flipped in my head and warned me of the negative implications of such a poorly thought out plan. Instead, my warning bell came softly and subtly. One moment, Étienne was awake: alert and expectant at the foot of the bed. Briefly, I turned around to roll on the condom. When, seconds later, I returned my attention to him; I found him passed out.

Options were laid in front of me, then. Under no circumstances would I take advantage of his sleeping form. But, similarly, under no circumstances did I have any intention of returning back to my small Parisian apartment. Now, it holds the ghosts of two girlfriends past. 

So, I weighed my only genuine option. Quickly, I disposed of the condom. I redressed myself--only slightly; slipping my legs back into my pants and folding my shirt before laying it carefully at the foot of the bed. 

Étienne is a lug of a man, as it turns out. Moving him into a comfortable position in his bed proved to be more difficult than I would have thought. But, there was something in it that seemed absolutely necessary for me to do. So, I did. Gingerly, I tucked him under the blankets and wrapped him up tightly. Only once this was effectively situated did I similarly tuck myself in on the opposite side of the bed. Sleeping here gives him the impression he was successful--as something makes me believe that he will have no recollection of the night either way.