And my Chantel..
Honestly, I really don't know how to describe this book, no words could. This book was such an emotional read that kept me addicted to the mystery of a man called Phillipe. It was a tale of the past which collided with the present. Everything was supposed to be simple, Gemma was chosen by Phillippe to write the truth about what happened between Chantel and Phillipe. She was supposed to correct the world's perspective of the tragedy that is Phillipe and Chantel. But what happened was more than that. Phillipe was always in love with Cantel. Their love was untouchable. But when Gemma stepped into the picture, the past mingled with the present, and Gemma was left thinking where she stood in the equation. Phillipe couldn't let go of Chantel. And Gemma was falling in love with both of them, the broody living Phillipe and the beautiful dead Chantel. It scared her, but at the same time it fascinated her. Did Gemma love Phillipe? Yes. Did Chantel love Phillipe? Yes. Did Phillipe love Chantel? Yes. Did Phillipe love Gemma? That's a question that you could answer only after you read this book. :)“Let me go!” I demand, attempting to twist my arm away from him.
Releasing my chin, he pulls my arm back behind me and gathers me up close to him. My breasts press against his chest as I feel a second tear slip free down my cheek.
“I can’t let you go, Gemma,” he rasps fiercely, leaning forward. “That’s the whole fucking problem.”
Suddenly, I can’t stand the thought of his mouth on mine. I have my pride, and he just walked all over it. As I turn my head to the side, I’m shocked when I feel his tongue against my skin. He licks the tears from my cheek, and then his mouth is at my ear.
“Trust me, I’m not what you want, Gemma. I’m not what you need,” he whispers, stressing his last word. “Don’t waste your time loving me.”
Moving back to face him, I find myself staring into intense green eyes that are pleading with me to understand.
“But you’re who I have come to love,” I confess, finally allowing my head to catch up to my heart.
His eyes search my face, like he’s trying to find something, before he releases me abruptly. Walking away, he mutters, “Then, you are a fool.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch him stop at the easel in the corner. I have to agree with him. I am the biggest fool of all.I feel as though my heart is being pulled in two separate directions, yet neither direction is the right path for me to choose. She is no longer here, but he won’t let her go. So, where does that leave me? Well, that’s easy. I’m left alone.When did this story morph? When did it change from a tale of two to a tragedy of three?“Are you afraid because I love you?”
His eyes run over my hair, my eyes, and finally my mouth.
Licking my lips, I take the final leap. “Or because you love me, too?”