The Stranger in the Mirror(47)

When I come downstairs, Valentina is in her pajamas, and Julian has changed into a dinner jacket. He looks . . . an old-fashioned word pops into my head. Dashing—he looks quite dashing.

“Wow, you look so beautiful,” Valentina says, and reaches out to touch my dress.

“Yes,” Julian says, smiling at me. “You are stunning.”

I have no idea where we’re having dinner. Julian said he wanted to surprise me, but even so, when we walk into Ricard’s, I am momentarily speechless. I’ve never seen such an enchanting room. My shoes sink into the thick brown carpet as a waiter in black tie escorts us to a table. Soft music plays, and there is a muffled hum of conversation in the background. The walls are a deep burgundy, and in the dim light the crystal chandeliers make everything sparkle. We pass a dance floor, and when we are seated, our waiter lights the candle on our table.

“This place is wonderful,” I say.

“This is where I proposed to you.” He reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine. His blond hair looks golden in this light, and I notice again the curl that always seems to break away and brush his forehead.

“It makes me sad that I don’t remember.”

“I know. But one day you will. For now it’s enough that we’re together. You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

The waiter brings the bottle of pinot noir Julian ordered and pours us each a glass. Julian wraps his fingers around his glass. “To us. And to all the years I hope are ahead.” He stops, and before raising the glass, he leans toward me slightly. “If you’ll stay.”

For a split second I think of Gabriel and all I’ve left behind, but then I push him from my mind. Lifting my glass, I say, “To tonight, Julian. Let’s drink to tonight.”

I see his eyes grow sad, but he lifts his glass to mine, and we each take a sip.

“I know it must feel to you like I’m rushing things. I’m sorry. It’s hard to keep my feelings under wraps. I want so much for things to go back to the way they were that I forget how tough it is for you as well.” He shakes his head and takes another sip of wine. “I’ll try to be better. Take it slowly and give you all the time you need.”

He’s been so extraordinarily patient with me that it makes me feel guilty. What is wrong with my brain, that I could screw up so many lives? As I look across the table, however, I sense something happening. I realize that I feel comfortable with Julian. I trust him, and more than that, I like being with him. Maybe these are feelings of familiarity I’m experiencing, and soon more memories will follow.

“It’s all right, Julian,” I say. “You don’t have to apologize—I understand. You’ve been so patient, and you’ve given me all the space and time I need.”

When the waiter brings our dinner, I see four musicians with their instruments seat themselves behind the dance floor. “Look, live music,” I say, pointing to the stage. They begin to play, and suddenly I am swept back in time. My breathing grows rapid. The song. It means something. I close my eyes and try to see what it is, but like a puff of smoke it’s gone.

“What is it?” Julian’s voice brings me back.

“This song. I know it.” My pulse has begun to slow a bit.

“‘All of Me,’” Julian tells me. “Cassandra.” He looks at me with tenderness. “This is the song we danced to the night we got engaged.”

I am staggered. No matter how fleetingly, I’ve remembered something. I feel hope, and when I look across the table, Julian rises and extends his hand to me. “May I have this dance?”

I close my eyes as he wraps me in his arms, and we glide across the dance floor. I breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. He holds me tightly to him, and through the thin material of my dress I feel the warmth of his hand on my back. I move my own hand from his shoulder to his neck, pulling him closer to me. He tilts his head so that his cheek is touching mine, and suddenly there is a tingling throughout my whole body. We move together as if we’ve done this a thousand times, and before our dance has ended, I feel like I’m finally home.





??40??

Cassandra




We are quiet on the drive home from the restaurant, as if to speak would break a spell. I feel dreamy and happy. This must be what it’s like to be a teenager on the brink of something big. I look over at Julian, my eyes moving from his chiseled profile to his strong hands on the steering wheel and the gold wedding band on his finger. I look away and at my own naked finger, wondering what kind of ring I wore.

When we arrive home, he comes around to my side of the car and opens my door. I look up at him as he takes my hand, and I can see the same excitement in his eyes as we enter the house and climb the stairs together. Words feel unnecessary. We both know that I will not pass our old bedroom and continue to the guest room tonight. Julian stops and opens the door to the large room and waits for me to enter first. It looks different than it did yesterday when I went through my old closet and felt like an intruder. Tonight it’s warm and welcoming, and I know I belong here.

I move nearer the bed and turn to Julian. I’m not sure what to do next, and he, seeming to sense my awkwardness, comes to me and takes me in his arms. I breathe him in again, my head on his shoulder. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying gently. Then he pulls away and carefully guides me onto the bed. He lies next to me, and as we face each other he runs his hand along my cheek, letting it come to rest on my lips. And then he kisses me, a long, sensuous kiss that makes me shudder with desire. I watch as Julian gets up and removes his clothes. His body is toned and fit. He comes back to the bed and slowly undresses me, caressing my body until I am completely naked. He straddles me, taking my hands in his, and, lifting them to his mouth, kisses the scars on my wrists. I feel like I am drowning in him. When he lowers himself and our bodies meet, I am on fire.