"Only actions give life strength, only moderation gives it charm."
-Jean Paul-
***
The sun had set and the sky turned into a dark twilight shade. When the town was about to reach its peaking hour of beauty, Raphael had just freshly come out of the shower when he was invited by one of the housekeeper for dinner. Once he was done changing his clothes, he walked down to the dining room which still remained pretty much the same as he had remembered it, only then everything felt slightly different.
It was far less crowded without his family around and other people, whoever they were that were present in the room at the time, instead, he found Dennis sitting there with a glass of wine in his hand. For a brief moment the man looked like he was on the verge of being an alcoholic, due to the sorrow present in his eyes, though of course, he had never confronted him on it. When Dennis spotted him his face lit up and a smile appeared on his face. It was the same professional mixed with personal warmth kind of smile he had given young Raphael years ago.
"Please, take a seat." He politely offered. Raphael took a seat right across him, looking around in nostalgia as the cook was serving the food, at the time, Dennis' face was filled with concern. It was too obvious that he had been feeling anxious lately. Like any human being, Raphael was curious about the why. Though the answer came sooner than what he had expected. Right then, one of the housekeeper entered the dining room, clearly out of breath and her face paled in defeat as she approached Dennis and told him that Clara refused to come out for dinner.
Upon the news, a small concerned frown appeared on the old man's wrinkly forehead as he put down his utensils and tried to think of a way to make his daughter come out of her room.
"Is she not going to join us?" Raphael asked. Dennis let out of a long sigh and placed his pointing finger between his brows with his thumb on the temple of his forehead. He was silent, as if he was in a deep thought. Clearly he was not answering Raphael's question, but the defiant man he was, he decided to speak up once more.
"Dennis, I'm sorry for interfering, but if I may ask, what happened to Clara?"
Dennis stared at the young man with uncertainty, he was observing him, and tried to track down every little detail of his facial expressions as if he was searching for any contempt, yet he had only found sincerity in his eyes. After a few seconds of going back and forth wish his own thoughts, He felt like it was acceptable for him to tell Raphael, he was technically a stranger to the family, but he thought this young man might be able to help him with the situation.
Besides, he needed to vent his emotion to someone, Clara's actions had brought great disdain to him and he needed a release.
Dennis Bellavance ended up telling Raphael everything that happened, with every words that came out of his mouth, the more relieved he felt, yet at the same time Raphael's chest tightened listening to the story. No wonder, he found it a bit odd that he would find her in such state, because despite the short time they spent together, he knew Clara would only cry for two reasons, losing someone she loved, or being betrayed by someone she loved. Both equally awful.
He had mixed thoughts flowing through his mind, at one side, he was disappointed at Clara for not only did not remember him, but also to allow herself to be engaged to another man. That truth alone stirred jealousy inside his heart, he had hoped she would wait for him, to trust his promise from years back.
He felt hurt because she had forgotten about his love for her, yet he could understand her stance, she was a beautiful woman after all, he should have known it would be impossible to keep her truly single for eight years. Which made him unable to blame her.
Keeping that aside, he remembered the black haired girl he had seen years before, she must have grown into quite a stunning woman as well, otherwise she would not be able to snatch away Clara's man, but the man himself, Marcellin Durand, seemed like a two faced douchebag. He had no idea how lucky he was to even called himself her fiancée. Yet he wasted that chance like an idiot.
How dare he hurt my Clara?
He felt sorry for Clara. She was torturing herself for a man who did not even deserve her. Since their meeting earlier Raphael assumed there must have been something seriously wrong with her. Even after years he knew she was not a difficult type of woman. But he was glad at the same time, as horrible as it sounded, because it meant that he would gain his chance with her, he felt like a terrible man, yet his desire for her was greater than anything else.
He must have her
He guessed how she must had been feeling for the past few days and he tried to sympathized with her. It must have hurt so much, and for Clara it really did. Raphael knew he needed to do something.
After dinner was over, he had asked Dennis' permission to speak with Clara, at first he doubted he would allow her but to his surprise, he agreed. Raphael ended up being sent to her room, he was about to open it when the door was slammed open.
Clara stood there, her eyes were no longer puffy, she was dressed in a nice violet silk evening gown and her hair had been knotted in a soft bun, on top of that she smelled really pleasant as she had just taken a shower and sprayed a vanilla and white floral based perfume. She looked fresh and glowing, he almost could not recognize her, she looked like she had never even cried at all.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. Raphael was at loss for words, he was too caught up in staring at her he had forgotten about his original quest. Straightening his back, he cleared his throat and explained everything to her. He thought Clara would show the slightest bit of gratitude, but instead, a frown appeared on her face. She did not respond, inside, she felt violated, her father told her personal issue to a complete stranger, but it was no time to argue about it.
"Where is my father?" She asked the housekeeper who stood beside him, and she told her he had been waiting in the living room. Without even bothered to look at his face, Clara ran through the hallway and down the stairs.
Clara found her father on the living room, and without hesitation, she called him out. Dennis was relieved his daughter would finally come out from her room. He was about to open his mouth when she marched toward him. Sparing no time, Clara sat down with determined look on her face. She clenched her hand and gathered her courage.
"Papa, I have a favor to ask of you." While she was talking, Raphael stood behind the wall, he was far enough that he was not seen, but close enough to hear every part of their conversation, under normal circumstances he would not bother to eavesdrop on anyone, but he wanted to know what she might tell her father.
"I have decided that I cannot stay here. I am thinking of going to the city, somewhere like Paris. After everything that happened, I realized I need a fresh start, s'il vous plaît, papa, je dois aller à Paris."
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