Eliezer’s Ange by Eden Auclair

XXVII

cassiopeia is twenty-two

she is a second-year masters in university

Ansel’s eyes werefixated on the grand television in his living room. His lips pulled in a cunning smile as he watched the highlights from the match just hours ago. Cassiopeia sighed and her eyes raked over his body with her thoughts wandering aimlessly, pondering how could he be the boy she once knew.

A melancholic feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She wondered when her ex-best friend became so... pretentious; where he walked, an air of arrogance followed him.

From the moment she landed in Madrid earlier today, the homesick feeling for a pair of arms to wrap around her had already consumed her. Inside Ansel’s apartment before the match, his attention was focused on his cell, not sparing her a word, let alone a mere glance.

The clock struck 17:10 and she found herself at the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium, feeling entirely drained and extinguished of her fire. Once Ansel came onto the field, in his position, his eyes flickered around the spectators until he found those familiar slate-gray eyes, and he—surprisingly—did the ritual they always shared. But after the match, he treated her like one of his hook-ups. He tugged her along to the downtown restaurant his mates went to go celebrate at.

Cassiopeia knew then that the remnants of their friendshipburned to ashes, and neither was tempted to dance.

—02:16 am—

“Cassiopeia,” Ansel’s deep voice came from behind. A sharp gasp fell from her lips as she locked her cell and nearly slammed it on the counter. Her eyes wide, cheeks blooming in crimson, she felt as if she just sinned. The girl hadn’t slept a wink, any ounce of sleepiness replaced by her wild, chaotic mind. She inhabited the counter for the night while Ansel housed the settee in his living room, his eyes fixated on his cell or the television, though Cassiopeia caught him sneaking glances her way through the night.

“Ansel. Hi,” she uttered, swiveling in the barstool to face him once she thought her rosy cheeks calmed. A suffocating silence draped the air in the apartment since they entered earlier and only grew with time.

“We, ah, we need to talk.” He murmured, nodding to the living room and she squinted her eyes, seeing regret and pain lacing his. “I promise, just talk... please,” he added desperately and she slowly nodded and slid off the barstool to follow him in the living room.

“Ansel? Is everything okay?” Her brow quirked as she noted his desolate stare. Her heartbeat picked up, suddenly mulling over what he could want to talk about. Would he finally put an end to their already tattered friendship? Finally tell her he’s had enough, say goodbye, and tell her to go?

“No,” he rasped after a few moments of silence and her eyes widened seeing his tearful gaze settle on her, “it’s... it’s about prom night.”

Her eyebrows crinkled then. “From our last year in high school? I’ve forgiven you for that night, Ansel.” He shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“I lied to you, Cass.”

“I still am lying to you.”

“What?” Ansel winced seeing her uneasy expression.

“Cass, wait, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, so sorry.” He whispered and her lips parted and quivered as she slowly shook her head.

“I-I didn’t leave you in the middle of the ballroom that night because of my father,” he paused and winced, “I left you because earlier that evening, I found out that I was going to be a father.”

Cassiopeia froze.

“Cass?”

“I…” You’re a father. You have a child, no wait, you’ve had a child for the past five years. How come I never saw them? What about the mother? Do your parents know? You cheated on me? “...don’t know what to say, Ansel,” she finally said in a hard tone, standing up from her seat and swaying lightly.

“You… you have a child,” she sputtered a moment later, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“I do,” he nodded, “a baby girl.”

“What’s her name?” Cassiopeia’s eyes softened the tiniest bit.

“Parthenia,” he paused and grimaced, “Parthenia Cass Belizaire.”

“Oh.” Cassiopeia’s brows lifted as her jaw hung ajar in surprise. “Where is she… and her mother?”

“Alessandra and I aren’t really, ah, friends. I usually have Parthenia on the weekends, but Alessandra and I were only ever a hook-up.” He rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Can I see her? Parthenia, I mean.” Her cheeks reddened and for once tonight, a blissful smile found Ansel’s lips as he nodded enthusiastically, pulling out his phone.

“Little Parthenia.” Cassiopeia smiled gently. “She’s adorable.” Her pointed fingernail traced the outline of the little girl’s face that looked just like her father. “She has your eyes and lips and luscious hair. She’s a Belizaire alright.” She chuckled softly.

“Your mother and father probably adore her, don’t they?”

Ansel winced, again, and her smile fell. “They, ah, they don’t know.”

“They don’t… know?” She asked slowly through squinted eyes. “I see.” She nodded to herself when he stayed quiet. Silence filled the atmosphere then as Ansel avoided looking at her and she mulled over everything he told her tonight.

“You cheated on me.” Cassiopeia’s rasp suddenly softened to a pain-filled whimper as her teary eyes sought his. “For how long?” She whispered when he remained quiet.

“Just once.”

“Just once?” She repeated in a tone that said she didn’t believe him for a second.

“Okay, twice, only twice,” he winced. “Once in December and again in February when I was here for camp.”

“It happened here,” she shrieked, “they’re here. In Madrid.” He nodded.

“They’re here,” she swallowed, standing up again.

“Cass…” Ansel rose from the sofa and stepped closer to her withering figure.

“Do not,” she said sharply, holding her hand out, and immediately, he stumbled back. “Don’t touch me and do not come near me.”

“I’m sorry, Cass.”

Cassiopeia’s glare was equivalent to a knife slicing its target. “That doesn’t suddenly fix five years of lying!”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered to herself as an afterthought and rubbed her temples.

“Do... you want me to leave?”

“Leave?” Cassiopeia chuckled mirthlessly, shaking her head. “Where will you go? This is your apartment after all.”

“I’ll stay in my bedroom then,” he said desperately and nodded as if he solved their problems.

“I just need some time and space to breathe,” Cassiopeia sighed to herself.

“You’re not going to leave are you?” Her head turned up to see Ansel suddenly looking horrified at the thought. She would have laughed if her heart didn’t ache half as much as it did in that moment.

“No,” yes, she promised in an eerily calm tone.

Ansel nodded slowly at her solemn look. “Goodnight then, Cass.” The girl nodded numbly, hearing the unspoken sweet dreams that he always said to her.

“Jesus Christ,” she sighed, falling back against the sofa and holding her head in her palms.

The distance may have slowly eaten away at their friendship but tonight, the torch burned any last piece and left an inevitable chasm in Cassiopeia’s heart.

§

Cassiopeia leaned her head against the window of the airplane, staring blankly at the wet runway from the early morning dew. Melancholy ached heavily in her chest with her heart caught in an undercurrent carrying her through a bottomless ocean. Her phone felt heavy in her palms and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth seeing Eliezer’s contact on her phone taunt her with each passing second. Her eyes flickered to the time. 05:20. She internally frowned before pressing the call button.

“Cassiopeia, baby? Everything okay?” Eliezer’s sleepy voice greeted her and a small smile graced her lips as the feeling of home encompassed her. “What time is it,” she heard him mumble and a small giggle left her lips from how adorable he could be.

“It’s five in the morning over there, what’s going on?” The sheer panic in his voice startled her from her daydream and she sobered up in a moment.

“It’s nothing, please don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry. Tell me, baby.”

“I promise, I’m okay Elie.”

“Are you sure, ange?”

“Yes, Elie, I just want to come home,” she said softly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know,” she quipped.

“When is your flight?” He sighed.

“In fifteen minutes actually,” Cassiopeia deadpanned. The truth behind those four words made her want to laugh but the tangible fractures of her heart in her chest ached more.

“You managed to snag a flight that quick?” The pure surprise in his voice managed to quirk a small smile on her lips.

“It’s quite funny what the Badeaux name can do for you…” she hummed teasingly.

“And what can the Badeaux name do for you?” He asked arrogantly, yet eagerly, reminding her of a kid on Christmas morning.

“You are hopeless, Eliezer.” She tutted.

“What? I heard it’s soul-consuming, it will make you cream your panties, and it can be earth-shattering.” His seductive whisper had her clenching her thighs together but Cassiopeia only snorted over the call.

“We’re not talking about the name anymore are we?” She asked dryly.

“No we are not,” he confirmed cheekily while she sighed, and then silence settled between them.

“Ange?” Cassiopeia hummed in reply.

“Are you sure you’re okay sweetheart? I know you said you are, but baby, you don’t sound like yourself. You sound like you’re coming down with something… have you checked your temperature? Maybe you’re coming down with a fever.” Yes Elie, coming down with a fever to kill a stupid motherfucker.

“Aww mama bear Elie,” she cooed innocently and Eliezer rolled his eyes.

“Well, are you expecting me to growl, Cassiopeia?” Eliezer asked dryly and she snickered. “Fuck, I wish I was there with you.”

“Elie, I’m fine, I promise.

“Though I do miss being in your arms,” she added absentmindedly.

“Miss you more, little ange.”

“Will you pick me up?”

“Always. I’ll always be there to pick up your broken pieces, Cassiopeia.

“Belizaire drive you to the airport?” He asked in a gruff tone.

“No.” She bit her bottom lip to stifle her laugh.

“Then how’d you get to the airport?” The confusion in his voice was adorable, but it was his soft tone that was enough to mend her heart little by little. Oh you know, the usual, drove Ansel’s classic Porsche 959 Paris-Dakar and left it in the airport parking lot, maybe keyed the side too.

“I called an Uber,” she said innocently and before Eliezer could speak, the flight attendant did.

“Elie, it’s time to go, we’re departing in a few.” Melancholy settled in her tone.

“Okay, be safe. Call me when you land. Je te verrai bientôt.”

I will see you soon.

“I will,” I love you, thank you for everything, “I promise.”