Read Delicacy for Free Online Page A

decisive. He’d gotten ready for it with the same butterflies in the stomach he’d had for his first date as a teenager. Well, that hadn’t been such a crazy feeling. But with Natalie, he could almost imagine he was dining with a woman for the first time. It was as if she possessed the strange knack of wiping out all memories of his love life.
Charles had been careful to avoid candlelit restaurants, to keep from coming on too strongly in the romantic sense, something she might have seen as inappropriate. The first few minutes were perfect. They drank and the conversation was sparse, ending occasionally in brief silences that didn’t make them ill at ease. She was glad to be there, having a drink, and thought that she should have gone out earlier, that action led to pleasure. She even wanted to get drunk. Yet something kept her feet on the ground. She could never truly escape her condition. She could drink as much as she wanted, but it wouldn’t change anything. She was just there, in a state of complete lucidity, watching herself perform like an actress on a stage. Splitting herself in two, she was dumbfoundedto see the woman she no longer was, someone who could exist in life, who could project appeal. It put all the details of her inability to exist in an even harsher light. But Charles saw nothing. He was in his element, taking things literally, trying to make her drink, to gain access to a little life with her. He was enthralled. For months, he’d experienced her as Russian. He didn’t really know what that meant, but that’s the way it was: in his mind, she had a Russian kind of strength, a Russian sadness. Therefore, her femininity had migrated from Switzerland to Russia.
“So … why the promotion?” she asked.
“Because your work is fantastic … and I find you wonderful—that’s all.”
“Really?”
“Why are you asking? You think that’s not all?”
“Me? I don’t think anything.”
“And if I put my hand there, you don’t feel anything?”
He didn’t know what had given him the nerve. He’d been telling himself that anything was conceivable tonight. How could he be so out of touch? As he placed his hand on hers, he immediately remembered the moment when he’d put it on her knee. She’d looked at him in the same way. And all he could do was withdraw it. He was tired of banging his head against a wall, of living permanently in the unspoken. He wanted to clarify things.
“You’re not attracted to me, is that it?”
“But … why are you asking me that?”
“What about you? Why these questions? Why don’t you ever answer?”
“Because I don’t know …”
“Don’t you think it’s time to move forward? I’m not asking you to forget François … but you don’t want to spend your entire life shut away … you know how much I could be there for you …”
“… But you’re married …”
Charles was startled to hear her mention his wife in that way. Maybe it seemed crazy, but he’d forgotten her. He wasn’t a married man having dinner with another woman. He was a man in the present tense. Yes, he was married. He was living in a state that he referred to as conjugalease . His marriage was in stasis. So he was surprised, because he was being profoundly sincere about his attraction to Natalie.
“But why are you talking to me about my wife? She’s like a shadow! We just brush by each other.”
“You wouldn’t think so.”
“Because appearances are everything for her. When she comes to the office, it’s only to parade around. But if you only knew how pathetic it is, if you only knew …”
“Then leave her.”
“For you, I’d leave her on the spot.”
“Not for me … for you.”
There was a lapse in the conversation, time to take a few breaths, several sips. Natalie had been shocked by his mention of François, that he’d tried to veer onto slippery ground so quickly and with so little finesse. She ended up saying that she wanted to go home. Charles was very aware that he’d