Beyond the Broken Angel

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

— everything —

April 1st, 1939

GISELLE PAUSED WHEN she entered the kitchen and came across Will. They had both been avoiding each other like their lives depended on it this last week, never getting more than mere glimpses at the other.

Her heart painfully ached in her chest at the sight of him pouring himself a glass of water at the sink. She wanted nothing more than to run across the room and be in his arms, but she held strong.

Before she was able to turn around and leave, Will spotted her.

"Oh," he said, meeting her gaze for only a second before his eyes dropped down to the glass in hand and stayed there. "Um, I'll leave."

"No, you're fine," Giselle told him before he could move. "I'll leave."

"It's alright, you stay. I just needed a drink, is all." He quickly chugged down the rest of his water before placing his empty glass into the sink. "All done," he told her, moving to leave.

Giselle gave him a wide berth, careful not to get too close to him like she yearned to do. He kept his head down as he passed, not letting his eyes come anywhere near her.

When he finally left, she felt like a mess.

Was this how it was going to be between them? Was their only conservations with each other be about who gets which room because they can't handle being in a closed space together?

It had only been a week since they had last spoke, and Giselle missed him like she was missing an organ, and she supposed that she was, in a way.

He wholly, fully, irrevocably had her heart.

"What are you doing?" Marguerite's voice startled her, making her spin around and face the entrance.

"Oh, uh, nothing," Giselle said. She had been so caught up in her thoughts, that she had completely forgotten what she had come into the kitchen for.

"You seemed awful deep in thought," Marguerite pointed out. "You were staring at the counter for a long time before I spoke up. Care to tell me what's captured your thoughts?

Giselle waved a hand. "It's nothing important."

Marguerite fixed her with a knowing look. "Are you positive about that? Because I think we both know what you were thinking about."

Giselle shook her head. "Let's just not talk about it, okay? It's too depressing."

"Alright," Marguerite said, a look of pity flashing across her face. "Anyways," she quickly brightened into a smile, "I was wondering if you would like to go to the shops with me."

"Yeah, actually, that sounds wonderful," Giselle said almost immediately. "I need to get out of this house," and far away from Will.

"Splendid! Get dressed and we'll depart when you are ready."

• — • — •

Giselle was beginning to believe that her brain was broken. It seemed that every thought she had somehow revolved around Will, and she couldn't make herself stop.

The green blouse she glanced at? It reminded her of Will's eyes.

The yellow dress Marguerite made her try on? She wondered what Will would think about it.

The advertisement she saw of a man in a new suit? She thought Will would look great in that suit.

"Oh my gosh," Giselle breathed out in frustration as she and Marguerite exited the shop. "I can't do this anymore."