Page 18 of Belle Amour
As for not believing in love, he hadn't done anything more than occasionally sleep with a woman since he ended his marriage, so what was she supposed to think? Plus, he had literally said to her that love was made up by Disney. She knew he loved her and cared for her, but she was the only one he showed any amount of affection for. He would hug friends if they hugged him first, but he never initiated physical contact with anyone but her.
She thought about going to find him, but she had no idea what to do or say or if he even wanted her to. In the thirty years they had been friends, she had always been the one he turned to when he was hurting; Bastian, walking away from her because she hurt him was new territory that she had no idea how to navigate.
No, that wasn't true, she realized. He had been very vocal against her marrying Eddie. Two nights before her wedding, his protests about her upcoming nuptials escalated to the point that she thought their friendship was over.
“Are you serious? You really don't see it? You really can't tell?” Bastian was pacing angrily in front of her while she finished packing up her living room to move into the house she and Eddie had closed on recently.
“See what, Bast?” Mirabelle snapped back at him, tired of the cryptic remarks. She knew Bastian didn’t like Eddie, but she hadn’t liked Ana either and she never behaved like he was. “You keep saying not to marry him and that I'm making a mistake, but you won't tell me why! Are you really so against my happiness? Just because you think love is bullshit doesn't mean you're right!”
“Oh my god! That's what you think?” He stopped pacing and glared at her. “You know what? Since I'm so against you being happy and love is bullshit, I can't imagine why you'd want me there!” He slammed out of her apartment and ignored her frantic calls and texts for the next two days.
She had been devastated when he didn't show up to get ready with her; he was supposed to give her away, and she didn't think she could go through it if he wasn't there. He had shown up at the church right before the ceremony, dressed in his suit but hadn't said a word when she pulled him to a room and whisper-yelled at him for being an ass. When she asked him if he had anything to say for himself, he shook his head and asked if she still wanted him to give her away. She rolled her eyes and said yes, and he had, but when he got her to the altar, he kissed her cheek, told her he loved her and left the church. He didn’t show up to the reception and didn’t answer any of her attempts to contact him before she went on her honeymoon.
When she returned, her boss informed her that he had accepted a temporary, six-month transfer to Tulk’s Dallas Office that had been offered to him two weeks before. He had accepted two days before her wedding and flew out the day after. She took over his caseload while he was gone, which required her to be in contact with him regularly, but he had kept her at arm's length, answering her questions but keeping it professional.
When she found out he had passed in his resignation a month before he was due to come back, she had flown to Dallas and demanded he talk to her. He had let her into the apartment the firm had rented for him while he was there, and she had yelled herself hoarse at him for over an hour, which he had simply taken, staring at the floor and not arguing or defending himself. It was only when she started to cry and asked himwhy he was breaking his promise to stay with her and be there for her no matter what that he finally got up, hugged her, and apologized.
“I’m sorry, I just… I hate seeing you with him, Bunny, he's a piece of shit, and you deserve so much more and so much better. I can't be respectful or polite to him, and it's better that I stay away from you.”
“No, Bast,” Mirabelle’s panic ramped up to ten when he said he would stay away from her, and she gripped his shirt tightly as she practically begged him not to step away from their friendship. “You just have to stay away from him, not me too. Please don't do this to me.”
“It hurts, Mira.” He whispered, his hands covering hers and gently trying to pull her loose. “I tried to tell you...” he sighed heavily. “It doesn't matter now. You married him, and I have to deal with it.”
“I won't make you be around him; I promise.” She looked up at him pleadingly and shook him slightly. “You promised me, Bast.”
“I've accepted another job. It's in New York. We'll still see each other, " he promised vaguely as he gently stroked her hair back off her face.
“It's not the same, and you know it.” Her anger at him was coming back quickly. “You know Tulk will take you back.”
“I'm shifting my focus. I’m tired of business law.” She could tell he was trying to be gentle about his decision so she wouldn’t feel guilty about being the reason he left Tulk. “This law firm isn't well established and is registered as specializing in family law and divorces. I'm taking a pay cut, but it’s a good chance to get into a small firm and establish myself.”
“You're going through a lot of trouble to be away from me, Bastian.” She finally let him go and stepped back, hurt welling up inside of her.
“No, I'm not, actually.” He shook his head. “The position here was offered to me; I just said yes. The position at Henderson was offered to me, and I said yes.”
“Henderson?” She perked up, and he looked at her wearily. “You're the new lawyer they're looking for a PA for?”
“Bunny...” He glared at her. “No.”
“Yes. You know, I prefer the background stuff over arguing in court. Come on, Bast, please? Unless...” She looked at him sadly. “You’d rather be away from me?
“Of course not.” He sighed. “It's up to you.”
The flight attendant announced the boarding for their flight, interrupting her thoughts and memories. Mirabelle stood up and looked around anxiously for Bastian. She didn’t want to board without him, and she really didn’t want to go to Ann Arbor and the wedding without him. She kept letting people go in front of her as she waited with increasing panic for him to appear. She was next in line, and only a few people were behind her when she finally saw him walk up and stand at the end of the line. She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and boarded. She had a two-hour flight to convince him she didn't mean anything bad.
Chapter Fourteen: Hindsight is Twenty/Twenty
Mirabelle found their seats and looked over her shoulder to see if Bastian was aboard yet. Part of her was nervous that he had walked away when she walked through the gate, even though she knew he would never leave her to go through with the trip to Ann Arbor by herself. Tucking her carry-on under the seat in front of her, she still kept one eye on the front of the plane until Bastian appeared, and she was able to let out the breath she was holding. He slowly made his way down the plane to her, and when he was seated and buckled in, she reached out and took his hand, loosely entwining their fingers. “I’m sorry, Bast, I really didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” She peeked up at him and saw he was looking down at their intertwined hands. When he didn’t respond, she swallowed and kept talking, determined to clear the air between them.
“I meant that you see me as more of something loveable and cuddly, like a cute baby animal that brings you comfort and you enjoy being around.” Bastian finally looked up at her. She could see he was torn between exasperation and amusement, and she decided to take it as encouragement to continue. “As for the other thing, you’re right, it’s been eight years and you were angry and hurting when you said it, but I’m not sure what elseI’m supposed to think. You sleep with someone every six months or so, but you haven’t been in a relationship since Ana.”
“You think I sleep with someone every six months or so?” He raised an eyebrow, looking mildly insulted, and she winced. She didn’t actually know if he slept with them or not; she couldn’t imagine going eight years without sex and had just assumed that was what he was doing since she knew he wasn’t asexual and most people have needs. “Just find a random woman, screw her, and send her on her way?”
“You tell me you have a date every six months or so, and unless I ask how it went, you never bring them up again.” She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and wishing she had kept her assumptions to herself. “And when I ask, you say it never worked out and don’t elaborate.”
The amusement and exasperation were back on his face, and he let out a small scoff. “Every six months or so, I attempt to date again; very few of them get past the first date, and I can count on one hand how many of them have actually made it back to my bed in the last eight years.”
“Oh.” Mirabelle wasn't sure how she felt about that. She was happier thinking he was getting off and leaving, and maybe that’s why she had believed her assumption. The thought of Bastian attempting to make a connection with another woman made her feel… Well, she wasn’t sure what she felt, but it almost hurt. She pushed it away; it wasn’t fair to feel that way, considering she had been married. “You never told me that.”