Les Amants

inspired by a photograph by a friend

Eloise Sophia Lorraine stood by the window, pulling the crimson shades aside so that she could peer at the world below. The blades of green were frozen, and the vicious wind could not move them. The trees bellowed and flailed their arms about, and even the snow looked menacing.

She remembered clearly that day three years ago, when her love vanished into thin air. She awoke early that morning, expecting to roll over and place her rosy lips onto the head of her fianc� in a kiss, but he was not there. All she could find was a note.

My dearest Eloise,

Please do not be hurt by this, but I have gone to war. I did not want to tell you because I knew you would have tried to stop me, but it is my civic duty to perform this act, and not even our love could have prevented my from going. I do not want you to mourn for me for I will return to steal you away forever.

We will be wed as soon as I come home, Eloise. I want nothing more than to be yours forever, and one day, we will have a family to call our own. I will not be gone forever, my dear, so please do not forget me. Wait for me, if you will, and let me be yours until the end.

With my deepest, most adoring love,

Victor

Time kept passing, but she did not feel alive. She had not heard from him since he had gone, and she was sure he had forgotten her by now. She clutched the letter in her hands, searing tears falling onto the paper. She had read it so many times that it was crumbling, but she had memorized it word for word, so it no longer mattered.

Eloise had tried to move on, yes. After a year where no communication went by, she lost all hope, and she met someone else. His name was Eric Starling, and he was such a kind, handsome fellow. He was a gentleman, the type of man who would hold the door open for his lady, pull the chair out for her, and truly respect her. Eloise could have loved him, and perhaps she would have, but whenever she looked into his eyes, she always saw Victor.

Victor. His warm, honey-colored eyes never left her evergreen ones, not even now he was away. His strong arms wrapped themselves around her at night, and his voice soothed her to sleep. Her heart still ached for him, and the pain would never pass.

Eric realized this, though, and he left her one night. Eloise had cried for his loss, but it was nothing like her loss of Victor. She still dreamed of him, and he was on her mind at all times. There was never a moment's rest. It was as if he was still there, as if she was being haunted by the memory of him.

Eric. How she wished he was still near! It was not the love she missed, but her child...He would never know he had a child. She would have to raise her son on her own. Poor little Corbeau; he would never know his father. Eric had left a short week before Eloise had found out she was pregnant, and now the child was a tiny baby cooing in her arms. She could not do this alone.

The knock on the door surprised her because Eloise rarely had any visitors. However, she tucked Corbeau lovingly into his basinet and journeyed to the door.

She barely recognized him. She knew his face well, yet it was far different from what she had remembered. He smiled sweetly at her before collapsing on her doorstep.

Eloise cried out for help, but she knew know one would show. She dragged him into the drawing room, using nothing but her weight of 98 pounds and petite height of 5 feet.

As she examined his body, she could see how terrible he looked. His eyes were swollen as if he had been hit in the face, his bottom lip was torn, and cuts covered every inch of his visible skin. His green clothing was tattered in places, and when she undressed him, she saw a glistening cut running across his torso. Fearfully, she placed her ear against his chest, listening for that familiar sound. It thumped weakly into her ear, and she took a sigh of relief.

Somehow, Eloise managed to carry his body into the bedroom. She was even capable of placing him into the bed so that he may rest easy. Perhaps it was the fear giving her strength, but whatever it may be, she was glad for it.

Eloise went into the wash room, where she wet a rag with warm water. Gently, she cleaned his wounds and dressed the cut on his torso. Now that the dirt and grime was gone, Eloise could recognize him far more easily. She crawled into bed and lay down beside him, resting her head against his chest, her soft brown curls falling around him. She could feel his chest rise and fall, and once again, his soft breath eased her to sleep.

"Eloise?" a voice asked softly, and her eyes fluttered open.

She said nothing. Instead, she nodded, the tears streaming out like a river, and hugged him as if her life depended on it.

He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her over and over again.

"What took you?" she asked. "I thought you would never come back to me."

"I wanted to, darling, and I tried. I could not get away."

"Away from what?"

"The war. I was a prisoner of war. I thought I would never see you again."

"I thought the same. I thought you were dead."

"I thought I was too."

She kissed him passionately. "How are you here?"

"I escaped," he said beneath her lips. "I had to see you."

"I am glad. Can I keep you?"

"Forever."

The crying startled both of them. For a moment, Eloise had forgotten she had a son. She had almost forgotten life had gone on without him. She was a young girl, in love, full of life. She wanted to remain that way, but things had changed.

"A child?" he asked, sitting up.

Eloise jumped up too. "Le silence de silence, mon enfant. Je viens !"

"You have a child?" he exclaimed. He chased after her, which obviously pained him, but he did not care. He needed an explanation. He pinned her against the wall and grasped both of her hands tightly. "You have a child!" he bellowed.

"Victor, je suis desol�e, je suis desol�e! You are frightening me!"

He let go immediately and slumped to the floor. "The whole time I was away, I could not stop thinking about you," he whispered. "To come home and find out you have a child...I am hurt...Deeply wounded."

Eloise wrapped her arms around him. "Victor, mon amour, it is not like that. I tried to heal my heart. I tried to move on. I could not. I did not mean...I never thought I would see you again. I wanted to keep living, but it was so hard without you."

"Where is the father?" he asked sadly.

She averted her eyes. "He is gone. He left me."

He looked up at her and stared into her eyes. She melted under his gaze. "Did you love him?"

"No. That is why he did leave me. He never knew about Corbeau."

"Corbeau," Victor said slowly, allowing the name to roll off his tongue. "That is a nice name, my love."

"You love me still, then?"

He took her face in his hands and smiled. "Of course I do, Eloise. Nothing could ever change that." He kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Je t'aime," she replied. "Would you like to meet my son?"

He nodded, and Eloise led him to the child. Corbeau immediately silenced himself and cooed at Victor. The babe reached his arms out to Victor, who swept the child up into his arms. Corbeau giggled happily, and Eloise smiled. "He likes you," she said.

"Marry me still, my love? I promised you we would wed when I was to return."

"Oui," she squealed excitedly, and she tossed her arms around him.

A month later, Eloise Sophia Lorraine became Mme. Flemming, and it was the most beautiful feeling in the entire world. Corbeau would no longer have to be raised alone, because Victor was more than willing to be a father to him, and the couple could hardly wait to have another child of their own.

One evening, as Eloise and Victor slept soundly, a commotion began. She sat up anxiously and shook her husband awake. "Mon amour, something is terribly wrong." He awoke and looked around carefully. Shouting could be heard downstairs. Victor stood up and reached for his gun, hidden beneath the bed, and wandered towards the doorway. "Be careful! Fair attention !" Eloise whispered urgently. He came back, gave her a quick peck on the forehead, and hurried down the stairs.

Gunfire rang throughout the house, and Corbeau began to wail. Eloise wished to run to him, but she was afraid. She could hear crashing sounds, shattering glass, and footsteps beating heavily against the ground.

Finally, silence. She clambered out of bed and peered out into the hallway. Everything was in turmoil. Chairs were turned over, the window was broken into a million pieces, and the furniture was slashed. There was no one to be seen, and Eloise's heart beat rapidly. "Victor?" she asked softly. "Oh, Victor, come back to me. Please. I need you. Victor!"

The sound of someone clearing his throat caught her attention, and Eloise whipped around. All she saw was the door to her child's bedroom. "Corbeau, are you okay?"

"Hello," a male's gruff voice said. "How are you?"

"M'aider Victor!" she cried out. "Who are you!"

"What a cute baby you have," he said. "What is his name?" He was holding Corbeau in his lap, and the child had a thick piece of fabric in his mouth. He stared at his mother, his eyes dripping with unease.

"Give me my child," she said, trying to hold her composure.

"Or maybe I will just keep him."

"Give me my baby."

The man stood up and tossed the child at her. Wide-eyed, Eloise ran forward to catch her baby, and although he almost slipped away from her, she managed to catch him. She stared at this stranger with hatred in her eyes.

He came forward and kissed her sloppily on the mouth. She screeched, and he slapped her. "Keep the child. You have already pleased me. I can hardly wait for you to go downstairs, Frenchie. I am sure you will like what you see."

She tore the cloth out of her child's mouth, and he rubbed his tiny head into her bosom. "Hush, hush, my child," she whispered, patting his back gently. She closed her eyes, afraid to move. She then placed the baby into his crib and wandered slowly down the stairs.

What she saw next shattered her heart into a million pieces. "Victor!" she screamed as she ran to him. His shirt was soaked with blood for he had been shot. Kneeling down beside him, she placed his head in her lap and begged him to speak to her.

"I...do not want to l-leave you," he moaned, the blood sputtering from his lips.

"Then do not go," she whispered. "Do not leave me."

"I love...you," he said, reaching up to touch her face. He caressed her cheek softly before his hand fell back down to his side.

"Je t'aime, mon amour, mon mari. I need you."

"I need..." But he could not finish. His head drooped to the side, and his chest stopped its rapid movement. This time, she could not even help revive him.

She raised herself up and lifted her hands to the ceiling. In front of God, she cursed for her loss, and her roar shook the world.

The murderous intruders had been looking for Victor because he had escaped from the war. He only wanted freedom, but they took it away from him. Her husband had killed one man, but the other one had escaped, and Eloise wanted so badly to avenge him. She rubbed her stomach, where the baby inside was kicking. She had planned on telling Victor over breakfast, but he had not lived to the morn. She expected a daughter, and the child would be named Natalie Victoria Flemming, in memory of her lost love.

Eloise did not want to be alone, but she could never love again. Not only had she lost him once, but two times, and she could not go on without him.

He came to her in a dream that night. She was feeling as if life would end, but Victor told her otherwise. "I will always love you, my dear. You know that, do you not?"

Eloise could do nothing but nod.

"You must raise our children...Yes, I know about the child inside of you. She will be beautiful, do you know that?"

"I miss you too much. I want to be with you."

He touched the left side of her chest where her heart was tucked away, and his hands felt so cold against her pale skin. She shivered, and he kissed her, sending an icyily refreshing coolness throughout her body. "I am always with you, Eloise. Take care of our children, and we will reunite again in the end." With that, Victor vanished, and Eloise felt the baby kick.

Of course Victor was with her! How could she have ever doubted that fact? Even when he had first vanished, he had still been there, and he always would be. Eloise had never really lost him. No, he was always in her heart, and there he would remain. She looked down at her two children, one crawling about on the floor and the other suckling her breast. Victor had been right; Natalie was beautiful, and she deeply resembled her father. She had those same honey eyes, that same brown hair, and those glorious pursed lips. Eloise smiled at her child and looked outside at the lovely afternoon sun, and in those clouds, Eloise saw something amazing; Victor, smiling down on her. Yes, he would always be by her side, and their love could never die.

Author's Note

advanced critique appreciated