The Cathedral Thief

Some friendships are impossible to salvage, but others… others you can just jump back in as if nothing had ever interrupted it. Whatever it was that I had with Damien was of the second kind. Once I started to talk to him again, he acted as if nothing had ever happened. He was even nicer – if that was even possible – than he had been before. He did not once ask why I had been distant. It was as if all of this had no importance. He did not even mention it. He just seemed happy to spend some time with me again, and this kindness did nothing but reignite feelings that I had felt for him during the first few weeks of our friendship. Damien was the best thing that had happened to me since I had arrived in Paris.

The only thing that clouded my otherwise perfectly blue sky was the memory of what I had seen that night. Try as I might – for the sake of my renewed friendship with Damien, because of all that I was feeling towards him – I could not forget what I had seen. I could not forget that I had seen Damien sneaking out of that church, most probably after having stolen something. The simple idea that Damien could do something like that felt completely foreign, but I couldn’t doubt what I had seen. And so, every time that I spent a moment with him, these thoughts plagued my mind.

It took a while before I dared mention it, but I couldn’t bottle it up any longer.

“Damien,” I said quietly, “there’s something that I’ve got to ask you.”

Damien look up from his paper – I had finally convinced him to attempt a portrait – and smiled. He was not suspecting that the subject that I wanted to talk about was so serious.

“Yes?”

“I’ve got – there’s something that I want to ask you.”

“Go on.”

“It’s… I don’t know how to… it’s about… you know how the inspector was always talking about you robbing…”

“He was making it up, Sophie.”

“But he wasn’t,” I protested. “I’ve seen you, Damien. I’ve seen you do it!”

For a moment, Damien was silent, too shocked by what he had just heard to answer immediately. I took this opportunity took speak further. “It’s alright, Damien. You can tell me. I’m not going to betray you. I would never. I don’t care what you’ve done. I won’t tell anyone. You’re my friend and not just that. I – I think I love you.”

Damien looked at me with surprise. “I... uh…,” he stuttered. “I… What do you mean, Sophie?”

My cheeks turned bright red. “I – I’m in love with you, Damien,” I said in a small voice, “I…”

Damien shook his head quickly. “Sophie… You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do! I’ve never felt this close to anyone else.”

“No, Sophie, I’m sorry, but…”

My cheeks were burning. “You don’t feel the same,” I said, realizing my mistake.

“Sophie, you’re my friend, but…”

I stood up in a hurry, and backed away. “I – I understand,” I mumbled, before running away.

It’s hard to describe what you feel in moments like these. I left the house without knowing where I was going. I had too much on my mind to think about that, and pretty soon I found myself lost in Paris. I felt very stupid about what had happened, but that wasn’t all. I was upset and angry, and I didn’t understand what had happened. Even though I had initially thought that I was lost in Paris, it soon became obvious that I had a destination, and I reached it soon enough.

I entered the building hesitantly, and carefully went to one of the desks.

“Yes?” the man asked, eying me suspiciously, as if he was thinking that I would make him waste his time.

I swallowed. “Hi,” I said in a small voice. “I would… I’d like to talk to inspector Vernoux, please. I have information for him.”