Endless Bonds

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I've got butterflies in my stomach.

Today's the day that I tell my most kept secret - my engagement to Pierre - to Tara.

I owe it to her.

More importantly, I don't think I can keep up lying much longer, especially after what Jared told me. I need to talk to Tara, and I need her advice.

When I called her earlier to tell her that I was interviewing Trent for my Sports and Nutrition class - He'd finally agreed to help me with my report - and that I needed her with me, she got suspicious.

"I can't be alone with him," I said.

The other side of the line went quiet. "Why?"

"It's, ah, getting complicated." The sparkle on my left hand winked back at me. "Trust me on this."

"You're being fvcking weird, you know that? I thought you and Trent were good now."

I took a deep, deep, breath. "Tara, why don't you come over to my place? We'll go to Le Petit Moulin and...Well, I need to explain something to you."

"Okaaaay. You're scaring me. Everything good?"

I didn't say anything. Because I was scared. Of Tara finding out, of course.

I was dreading her reaction...

From the inside of my door room, I hear Tara's honk.

My stomach sinks.

I know this is inevitable.

Knowing Jared, he can only keep his mouth shut so long.

Grabbing my keys and wallet on the way out, I make sure to throw my hoodie on, one where I can stuff my fists and potentially hide my left ring finger until we get to the café.

* * *

I give her enough time to order an iced raspberry tea and a grilled cheese sandwich. I can't stomach too much, so I settle for a chocolate muffin. I contemplate waiting until our food arrives; If Tara doesn't have lunch, she turns into a monster.

"So..." She beams at me and fiddles with her ponytail. "What's the big deal? You guys fvcked or something?"

At my deadpan facial expression, she laughs like a maniac. Although my stomach flips again, and for a complete different reason... "I'm just kidding. No, but seriously. What's wrong?"

I see Elsie - our waitress and Teagan's cousin - arriving from the corner of my eye with our food so I know it's safe to break it to her. She smiles at us and place our plates. "Anything else, ladies?"

"We're good, Elsie." Tara attacks her drink with a vengeance.

Good. She's had a sip. That's food.

I pull my left hand out of my hoodie pocket when Elsie's gone. With a pinched smile, I say, "Ta-Daaaaa."

Everything slows down. Tara's hands stay poised in the air, still holding her sandwich, cheese oozing out and touching the sides of her fingers.

Her eyes bulge from utter shock. Is she even breathing?

"I know, right?" I finish for her, a bit awkwardly, when she doesn't say anything...So, I expected her to shriek like a banshee and demand answers. Not to be completely speechless.

Maybe even yell at me for not saying anything from the minute it was placed on my finger.

"Tara, say something. Please," I plead.

Her eyes blink back to mine as if finally coming back from the place she'd wandered off to. She takes a bite of her sandwich, chews thoughtfully with her eyebrows raised and remains perfectly calm.

I stare at her without touching my chocolate muffin. I'm too nervous.

This is where she bites my head off. Any second...

"Damn," she says when she's swallowed. "Um, I guess Trent works fast?" Her voice shakes at the end. "I...I can't tell if you're pranking me, to be honest."

Trent?

Oh.

Oh, no.

"Tara, I'm not engaged to Trent." I roll my lips into my mouth. The idea is kind of absurd. Maybe at sixteen it would have been plausible.

But not anymore.

I'm hit with a wave of sadness for just a brief second. Had I spoken about Pierre to Tara in all the time that I was away, right now, when I broke the news to her, she'd be jumping up and down from joy. I wouldn't be getting this underwhelmed reaction because she has no idea about the other life I built back in Paris.

I push that thought away and focus on now. Focus on the fact that I'm slowly going to have to recount her everything that's happened.

Suddenly Tara's mouth drops and her face scrunches as if she's finally figured out something. "Oh, my god! You and GABE? You fvcking liar! I totally knew it!"

I'm dumbfounded.

Then I burst out into laughter and her face gets sadder, but I can see her trying to be happy for me. Of course, she'd assume it's Gabe. "No, you idiot. I'm not engaged to Gabe. He's still on the market. Thanks for the congratulations, by the way."

"Oh, God. I thought I lost my chance with him." She smirks. "Okay, enough kidding around." She reaches for her drink as if this conversation is over. "Nice ring. It's beautiful. Where did you get it from?"

"I'm not kidding around." I can't help the big smile that spreads across my face when I think of Pierre.

"What?"

"Tara, I haven't been completely truthful to you or the others since I got back from Paris. You see..."

And I tell her everything from the start.

* * *

We're sitting in Tara's car, parked in front of my building. Trent cancelled, saying he had an issue to tend to this afternoon. I'd probably be interviewing him tomorrow or tonight.

Tara's got a pensive look plastered on her face as she looks out the windshield. She doesn't even notice that I casually change the channel until Ariana Grande blares through the system.

After giving me a piece of her mind, she cried happy tears back at Le Petit Moulin. She couldn't believe it. I told her I couldn't believe it either. She was mad at me. I understood. She was disappointed, which I also understood. I told her no more secrets and she agreed.

"When's the wedding?" she sniffed.

"We haven't thought that far yet." I rubbed under my own eyes, careful not to ruin my mascara.

She smiled and it was watery. "You're going to be the most beautiful bride."

Then I cried all over again.

Elsie shot us skeptical looks from the counter.

"I can't believe you went away for so long, found yourself a man before anyone else and even engaged his French-ass," she whispered fiercely. "I'm so proud of you, Cher."

I showed Tara a picture of Pierre earlier and she was already a fan. I told her that if she wanted to be mad, she should be mad at me. Pierre had wanted to tell the whole world that we were engaged.

It was just me stopping myself.

"Cher," she whispered. "It makes me really sad that you thought telling us would take it all away."

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the headrest. Two seconds later, soft warm air fanned across my face. "I've always felt like the second I share my happiness, it gets taken away. Good things always come to an end for me, Tara. It's just been like that in my life. I don't know why. It might have been childish, but I didn't want to jinx this one thing. I love him, you know?"

"Wow." She nods. "I...I guess I get it. It's a little bit hard to digest, but I get it. However, Cher, this is the guy you want as your life partner. Whether you like it or not, you're going to be marrying him. So this "good thing" will get out. I mean, for god's sake. Look at that rock! I know you're guarded and cautious but let yourself live for once and be free of all worries. Life happens to the best of us. It's happened to you and now it's finally handed you something beautiful. Don't be afraid of it."

"Yeah. I'm working on it. Telling you was a big step. Tonight, I'm going to tell Natalie. Tomorrow I'll break it off to Teagan and Oliver."

Tara clears her throat. "And what about Trent?"

I gulp and look away, feeling an uncomfortable pang travel through my chest. "I'll tell him soon. Maybe after the interview. Kind of like, you know, a surprise."

"I think you're better ripping it off like a band-aid," she says under her breath.

I don't catch it. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. That's a good idea."

I smile and open my arms. "Okay. I'm going to get going now. Hug?"

She leans over and engulfs me. We stay like that for moments.

* * *

As I'm climbing up the stairs, I feel my butt pocket vibrating. By the time I reach my door and pull out my cell, it's a missed call.

The number is not saved under my contacts, but I recognize that it's from France. I quickly pull up Ethan Taylor's conversation and paste him the phone number.

I can see he's typing a response. I go inside my dorm room and find Sara's lying on her bed, taking an afternoon nap. I carefully tiptoe into the bathroom, mindful not to wake her up.

My phone pings.

I halt abruptly in my tracks. I don't need to glance into the bathroom mirror to see the anger painted across my face. My hands shake. My blood boils. I feel an odd rush of adrenaline kicking through me.

Lise Moreau. Pierre's psychotic fvcking ex-girlfriend.

No. No, I haven't.

What bothers me beyond the bxtch having the audacity to call me is Pierre, and the fact that he hasn't spoken to me or answered my calls.

My gaze flickers to the mirror. Red. My eyes are red, and my face is screwed up.

A small nagging voice in the back of my head echoes what I already know. All good things must come to an end, right?

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