If today was your last day

Phew, at last, I had made it. It was rather late, past midnight, and I was glad the lady from the bed and breakfast had left my key with a little note. It was just a week end, and I had flown from Bergen to Montpellier, with a pause in Amsterdam, then take, a train, then a taxi. Needless to say I was exhausted, and quite ready to crash in my bed.

No trailer for me this week end; Pierre-Jean had called me back for a scene he expected to shoot in less than three hours. And mine was now occupied by another actress; the princess of Angouleme. My heart was unsettled by this, and I wondered how she got along with my… with Tristan. We had not bridged the gap yet, and I hoped it wouldn’t show on screen. My mind, though, just couldn’t keep away from him. And even if he was probably sleeping like a log somewhere in his trailer, I felt like running in his arms to ask forgiveness for my coldness.

I just didn’t know where I stood anymore. Of course, Tristan wasn’t planning on making things easy for me, for the moment I dropped my key in the B&B room, I found a present wrapped upon my bed. There was a little card slipped in between the paper – a dark blue one.

“A little present celebrate your 26th birthday

Kærlig hilsen, Tristan”

Short, sober… and laden with feelings. I unwrapped the gift, finding a large stole of wool and silk, so fine that I could see through. A wonder to my eyes, a wonder to my skin. I could now wrap myself in Tristan’s gift. Neat. He was such a sweet man, so gentle, so lovable. Life had been unfair with him, I couldn’t imagine who would divorce such a sweetheart. And wonder who would capture his heart next. The idea send a pang in my heart. When he would find another soulmate again, there would be no time for me in his new life.

With a sigh, I decided to let the matter rest. I hoped that tomorrow we could start all over again, and find our friendship back. And that he wouldn’t ask too many questions about the reasons of my silence until then. Busy at work, that was a good reason, right ?

Tristan and I were standing close – too close – behind the prompt. Like a set of magnets that couldn’t find their own equilibrium, resisting the urge to stick together and be done with it. The scene had been rather funny to shoot; I had been pulling on Tristan’s stubborn woolen vest while he was having dinner. One sleeve off, then I took the knife from his hand, transferred it into the other, then pulled at the other sleeve. Tristan had remained impassive save from the light in his eyes, and the imperceptible shift at the corner of his lips. A husband being tended to by his wife.

The complicity was back then, only dampened by the elephant in the room that we had chosen not to address. A choice we both assumed correct, for the moment, until life gave us the opportunity. For the moment, though, I was frowning at the prompt, questioning Pierre-Jean’s giddiness.

— “C’est parfait. Voyez, ça rajoute vraiment de la profondeur dans leur manière de fonctionner, de l’authenticité. Johan est très sérieux, c’est vraiment ce qu’on attend d’une femme à l’époque » (It’s perfect. See how it adds some depth, some authenticity. Johan is very serious because it’s what a wife is supposed to do)

I nearly scoffed then, but Pierre-Jean’s startled expression caused me to stifle my laugh.

— “Frances ?” he asked.

— “No… erm. I just wondered….”

Trapped. How could I voice my thoughts when I might cause Pierre-Jean to shoot the scene again ? Or worse, to put Tristan on the dock. So I dropped it, and found another cause of amusement.

— “Rien. Je suis contente qu’on ait évolué depuis ce temps. » (Nothing. I’m just glad husbands don’t expect this from their wives anymore)

Pierre-Jean laughed then.

— “Je veux voir la tête de ma femme si je lui demande de me laver les pieds ou de me retirer ma veste pendant que je mange… seul à table. » (I want to see my wife’s head if I ask her to bathe my feet or take my vest off while I eat… alone)

I couldn’t help my giggle.

— “Ouais, les temps ont changé » (Yes, time have changed)

Tristan butted in, bringing a little seriousness into the conversation.

— “Oui. On a même le droit de divorcer sans être excommunié maintenant” (Yes, we even get to divorce without being excommunicated)

Both Pierre-Jean and I nodded in response. Yes, times had changed for the best, even if the world was going crazy.

Ten minutes later found Tristan and I enjoying the sunlight outside, the costumes shed. I was wrapped in Tristan’s gift, content with the fabric’s softness around my shoulders. It brought me warmth, and I had thanked him profusely. I could see, though, that my wearing it meant a lot more than my words. This is how he was, my Tristan; actions spoke better than words. For a moment, silence reigned between us, only disturbed by my companion’s drag on his latest cigarette. It meant things were on the mend if we could be content from one another’s presence. But at last, Tristan spoke.

— “What did you mean, back there ?”

— “Uh ?”

He chuckled at my wide eyes, blowing the smoke away from me.

— “About the scene”

Ah. So I had not been convincing enough. Or perhaps Tristan knew what I meant in the first place.

— “Oh. I thought… I thought I saw you laugh inwardly while I struggled with your vest. Especially when I changed the knife from right to left”

A chuckle greeted my words.

— “Ah, and I thought I had contained it”

The confirmation that I had spotted his mood, however concealed, brought me some relief and I lost my eyes in the horizon of those naked hills.

— “There, and I felt like I was going crazy. So you were laughing at me.”

— “Not AT you. But the situation was… I don’t know, pretty grotesque”

A quick peek by my side revealed a rather bemused Tristan shaking his head.

— “Yes, it was.”

— “Anyway, Pierre-Jean didn’t even spot it. When I realized it, I had to find another chute. I didn’t want to sell you. Is it going to be a problem, you think ?”

— “Good save, you fooled him. And I was checking on the prompt; it is very faint. People shouldn’t be able to catch it.”

I cocked my head aside, nibbling on my lip.

— “I don’t know. It seemed so… so obvious”

— “Well, you had a ringside seat after all. And you know me well.”

I nearly blushed then, then pointed at his face.

— “There’s this slight creasing at the corner of your eyes. The left more than the right. And the quirk at the corner of your lips”

Curiously, Tristan’s eyes lowered to his lap; his cheeks looked warmer than usual. The sun, or a blush ?

— “More than I thought, then”, he whispered.

My hand moved without my conscience, shedding my good resolutions to refrain from touching him. My fingers grabbed his upper sleeve for a while to call his gaze back to me.

— “Tristan. You are not an easy man to read when you close off. But your eyes and mannerism speak for yourself. And I’m rather used to read people this way”

— “How come ?”, was his genuine response.

I gave him a shy smile.

— “My father isn’t the most expensive man, but there’s this twinkle in his eyes when he jokes around. He loves teasing, but it is never quite clear. He likes it that way”

Tristan’s eyebrows knitted for a moment, their very faint lines lifting above his straight nose.

— “That’s… very british”

A wide smile bloomed on my face.

— “Never tell him that, he hates the British. Something to do with rugby”

— “I’ll keep that in mind”, Tristan deadpanned seriously.

— “Although I doubt he would be much fearsome, even with a double handed axe”

Tristan laughed then, a good natured sound that I joined afterwards. Both probably imagining my slender father with an axe, trying to be threatening.

— “Come. I’ll drive you to the Bed and Breakfast. I think my day is over, and you shouldn’t have to come tomorrow”

— “Well. I got nowhere else to be, Stéphane isn’t picking me up before 5 in the evening so I’ll come by anyway”

Tristan addressed me a fond look.

— “I’ll be glad to have you, and so will the others. The governor is very fond of you”

— “Good old Bruno. He’s fun”

— “Yes, and rather insightful”

And no matter how much I insisted, Tristan remained tight lipped about the man.

I was having a shower, listening to my mp3 list on speakers in the Bed and Breakfast room. Tristan had gone to have a chat with the owner to get dinner with me this evening. It was our last, before I went away tomorrow. There were no projects to link us now, this one being finished. I didn’t know if I would be involved in any promotion, and I had lots of work to catch up with anyway.

The song ‘If today was your last day’ was running, and I singing.

“If today was your last day

And tomorrow was too late

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last?

Leave old pictures in the past

Donate every dime you have?

If today was your last day

(If today was your last day)

Against the grain should be a way of life

What's worth the prize is always worth the fight

Every second counts 'cause there's no second try

So live like you'll never live it twice”

Something churned in my stomach, the knowledge that yes, tomorrow would be my last day with Tristan on set. As I brushed my hair – saved from the moist by a high bun – and put my dress on, I couldn’t help but feel my throat close. The door was left ajar, and I spotted Tristan sitting on my bed. I couldn’t help but smile; it felt like old times in the trailer. He just came about, and sat, and I would do the same in his place.

His eyes were lost, his mind far, far away. So when I sat beside him, I couldn’t help but ask.

— “So what would you do if today was your last day ?”

Tristan’s attention snapped to me, and he gave me a look so intense that it pinned me into place. He didn’t say a word, his fingers cupping my face, then sliding to my nape to dive into my hair. A slight pull was all it took for me to relent. Eyes wide, I only got a whiff of his scent before his lips captured mine, pulling them into a sensual dance. The softness of his mouth coaxed my tongue to dart out, and I could barely refrain from swooning as he gifted his own to me. His other hand snaked around my waist, and despite the alarm bells than rang through my mind ‘alert, alert, alert !’ I just couldn’t let go. It felt so good, so peaceful, so passionate, so complete… The taste of him was intoxicating; my heart was drumming and my breath short.

When at last, he pulled away, watching my reaction with his usual mask, my brain started to function again. Flushed, I lowered my gaze to my lap. His hand still sat on my hip, a possessive gesture. Did it mean what I thought? Breathless, I stuttered.

— “I… uh… I don’t understand, Tristan.”

Both his hands came to rest upon my cheeks, and he lifted my face to meet his gaze squarely.

— “I love you, Frances. It’s all right if you don’t return my feelings, but I needed to tell you before you left.”

Stunned. I was so stunned that I wondered if I had crashed into a wall. Or a dream. Or…. Tristan stood, his beautiful fingers leaving my face; without his touch, I felt so bereft.

— “I’ll leave you with your thoughts”

My hand snaked around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. I was shaking my head in hopes to get my brain to work, but found I had trouble aligning two logical thoughts together.

— “Please don’t”, I begged.

Tristan knelt in front of me then, taking in my flushed face and flustered state.

— “I need to speak this through”, I added. “Unless you don’t want to ?”

He gave me a smile, his fingers catching a loose strand of my reddish ringlets, following it to the tip.

— “Of course I want to. Stop being so reasonable.”

His chastisement relaxed me a little, and he sat by my side again. Waiting for me to find the words I needed.

So he loved me, and I believed it. How stupid had I been? How did I not see it ? What about me ? How long had I been depending on his thoughts ? Searching for his good opinion ? Longing for his presence ? Pining about him ?

It felt clearer and clearer now, the strength of my reaction after our so called intimacy. I was just too afraid to see the truth, and too much of a coward to admit it and let Stéphane go. But I knew, now, where my heart lay. And it was frightening. Eventually, I lifted my gaze to him and released a shaky breath.

— “I’m afraid, Tristan. I don’t know when things went south with Stéphane, or even why. I’m afraid to do the same thing again.”

His eyes brightened with happiness. Somehow, I had admitted, without saying it, that I was ready to start something with him. Picking up my hand again, he laced his fingers through mine. The contact sent tingles all the way up my arm.

— “It can be an evening, an day, a month or a lifetime Frances. I’m not asking for anything.”

A lifetime ?

— “But I will. I mean… I can’t do flings, Tristan. When I start seeing someone, I give everything that I am.”

Tristan just nodded, kissing my hand as an encouragement.

— “I’m afraid to hit a wall again, to give it all and...”

— “So I am, Frances. I’m not one for flings, and my marriage crashed years ago. How do you think I feel ?”

My stomach suddenly twisted when I realized what this wonderful man had just been through. With kids, nonetheless. His engagement with his wife had been much longer, much stronger than mine. Scooting closer, I kissed his cheek shyly. The short beard tickled my lips.

— “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to belittle your experience”

Tristan sighed, pulling me closer to his side.

— “I know. I was frightened, especially after the divorce. But I just can’t live without you in my life. The mere thought of watching you leave without turning back… well, I couldn’t handle it. Last time was hard enough”

My breath itched, my heart hammering like a mad drummist. I knew was he was talking about, and needed him to understand why I had fled so shamelessly.

— “I’m sorry, Tristan. I… I felt so guilty that day. If you had hugged me then, I would never have been able to leave.”

— “Damn, when I think I kept my distance not to push you any further. If I had known, I would have chained you in my trailer”

His attempt at levity released some pressure on my chest, and I chuckled. Then I rose upon my knees and cupped his cheeks, searching his face, looking for the gleam I had seen so many times. It was there, buried in the depth of his light hazel, hidden from the world but me. Fondness, affection… love. My fingers caressed his cheekbones and I kissed his lips gently.

— “I wasn’t ready to face those feelings. But being half naked against you… I wanted to stay there forever”

Tristan seemed to ponder my answer, understanding dawning upon his beautiful features.

— “So that’s what happened. I thought you were angry with me for pushing you.”

The misunderstanding made my stomach churn, and I pulled him against my chest, my knees resting on either sides of him as I hugged the life out of him.

— “No. I’ve made my choices, I just didn’t expect it to be so disturbing. I’m sorry you though that.”

— “I have to admit the distance helped me sort out my feelings. I always thought I had no chance with you anyway”

I scoffed, then sat on his lap.

— “You talk like I am some sort unattainable princess.”

His features turned serious as he held me.

— “But this is it. Celebrity had nothing to do with worth. This is how I see you. You are a princess, and I will be your knight”

Seeing my disbelief, Tristan went on:

— “Don’t change your life for me, I’ll come to you.”

The notion had trouble getting in my brain, for I saw him as the ultimate catch. Never had I imagined I could have a man like him. So sensual, so gentle, so prone to take care of others… so passionate.

— “How long… since you have known ?”, I eventually asked.

— “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time… you caught my eye the day I met you, and the more I know you, the more I loved you. I realized it the day we buried you, with Elise. My distress that day, it wasn’t only the act”

— “Oh…”

I remembered the way he held me. The way his fingers trembled as he washed the blood from my face, the desperate kiss he had landed on my face as I supposedly died. The tightness of his hold as I lay, limp, in his arms. So sick that I didn’t have to play the weakness. Yes. His intensity had touched me that day.

— “Give me the chance to make it work, Frances. You’ll see.”

I had trouble believing that a man like him was literally begging me to accept his suit. Would I be up to the task ? On a whim, I retreated to the headboard, reclining against the cushions and gesturing for him to join me. Tristan crawled beside me, then discarded his shoes to settle his long legs on the cover.

— “I guess that’s a we, then”, I said.

Tristan cocked his head aside, looking into my eyes with barely concealed joy. His features were more relaxed than I’d ever seen them.

— “We can make it work”, I added. “I’m just as addicted to you, Tristan”

— “It’s good to hear”, he whispered in my ear.

I just snuggled in his arms, relishing in the softness of his embrace, the safety of his limbs surrounding me. My heart was about to burst with happiness, and I could feel all the possibilities that opened before me. Blissful moments with a newfound love, when I had not been getting anywhere before that. Eventually, the full weight of what I had to do settled.

— “I’ll have a hard time dumping my boyfriend, but I should have done it a long time ago.”

Tristan only nodded, tightening his hold on my frame.

— “Stay with me ?”, I eventually asked.

— “Always”

And somehow, I knew he meant it.