“But I am alive, Gilles. That’s all that really matters, isn’t it?” Chloe asked.
Gilles responded with a warm smile. “If I am being honest, this all feels like a dream.”
Since that unexpected encounter with Chloe the prior Sunday, Gilles had found himself losing track of time. He hadn’t anticipated crossing paths with a familiar face in this foreign land, least of all someone he had presumed dead. At first, he thought his own eyes were deceiving him, but before he knew it, he found himself collapsing to his knees in front of her. Sleep eluded him until the day they had arranged to meet again.
“I am sorry, Lady Chloe,” said Gilles, guilt etched across his face.
Chloe regarded him with curiosity. “Whatever for?”
“I’ve only just grasped the meaning of your words.”
“I have always been a chatterbox in your presence. I’ve said so much that I can’t quite recall what you’re alluding to.”
