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Eponine walks into the Cafe Musain and draws a nervous breath as she scans the room, looking for a friendly face. Her heart skips a beat when her eyes land on Marius, and it twinges painfully when she sees his arm around Cosette. She considers leaving, or perhaps finding somewhere else to sit, but before she can make up her mind, Cosette notices her and calls out, “Eponine! Join us, why don’t you?”
She can’t ignore such a direct invitation, especially one offered so warmly, and she makes her way through the cafe to the happy couple. They are the perfect picture of romantic bliss. Marius is as handsome as Cosette is beautiful.
“Dear Eponine!” Marius says. “We were just asking after you.”
“You gave us such a fright when you were wounded on the barricade,” Cosette adds. “Come! Sit with us!”
Eponine rests her hand against the place where her wound still aches sometimes, and she takes the offered seat next to Marius.
“I am alright,” she says. “Don’t worry over me. I was no worse injured than Monsieur Marius.”
“Who should have perished from his injuries himself and would have were it not for my father!” Cosette says.
“Dearest Cosette, Eponine,” Marius says. “No more talk of such things. Is it not enough that we three are alive? We were the lucky few, and today the sun is shining.”
“So it is,” Eponine murmurs. “The sun is shining, and we still breathe. That is more than many others can say.”
Nonetheless, her heart aches, to be so close and yet so far, from the love and happiness she longs for. When she had thought she might die, she contented herself with being in Marius’s arms at last. To be alive and in them no longer seems somehow especially cruel.
“You seem downcast,” Cosette says, leaning across Marius to make eye contact with Eponine. Her smile is gentle and genuine as she speaks. “Would you prefer it to rain?”
Eponine shakes her head. “I would be happy either way so long as…”
“So long as?” Cosette repeats. She tilts her head, and her lustrous dark hair glimmers like polished ebony.
“Forgive me. I lost my train of thought,” she lies.
“Come now, ‘Ponine,” Marius teases. “In the middle of the phrase? You’re not so advanced in years. If you can’t finish a thought, I should scarcely be able to make it through a word.”
She laughs and ducks her head. Her face feels warm, and her heart races. “No, no, I won’t say. I won’t spoil your happiness.”
“What could you possibly say to do that?” Cosette asks. “Our happiness is all right here.”
“Yes. And I won’t impose upon it any longer,” Eponine says, making as though to rise from her seat.
“Wait!” Marius says. “Leaving so soon? Have I done something to offend you? If so, you must forgive me!”
She shakes her head twice. “There is nothing to be forgiven.”
“Then stay,” Cosette coaxes. “We fret when we can’t see you. Especially Marius.”
Eponine freezes in her seat, disbelieving.
“It’s true,” Marius says. “The streets are cold and dark, but if you must leave, take our love with you.”
“That’s just it,” Eponine says, drawing a trembling breath. “I would not care if it were raining or shining so long as I was loved. Please don’t offer me what you aren’t able to give.”
She can hardly bear to face them, but she reads surprise on Cosette’s face and grief on Marius’s.
“Then you should have no concerns at all,” Cosette says. “For you are loved, very much so.”
“I know you both care for me, but the two of you—“ Eponine begins.
“No, I’m—I’m explaining this all wrong,” Cosette says. “Marius dearest, show her!”
Marius’s grief-stricken face softens as he turns in his chair to face her. His large hands reach out to cup her soft face, and her whole body trembles with surprise and wanting. He kisses the top of her head, then her brow, and at last her lips.
Warmth floods her body, and tears gather in her eyes. He pulls away, and she continues to stare at him like a lost sailor who caught sight of shore.
“Are you alright?” Marius says, worrying his lip.
In response, she throws herself into his arms, and he instinctively wraps her up tight, managing to keep them both in the chair.
“But Cosette…” she mumbles into his shoulder.
“I’m still here, dear Eponine,” Cosette says. “There’s room for more than one in a person’s heart.”
“I thought… I thought…” Eponine tries and fails to speak.
Marius strokes her head. “I’m sorry, dearest ‘Ponine. I thought you knew.”
“I thought if you loved her you could never love me,” she confesses.
“I needed Cosette to help me make sense of it. I didn’t know what I felt until you were injured, but I’ve always loved you, and I love Cosette as well. She helped me realize that.”
Eponine lifts her head to gaze at the other woman, affection stirring in her heart for her. She realizes the truth of what Marius and Cosette are saying, that a heart can hold more than one love at a time, as her own expands with love for them both as well.
“So you see,” Cosette says softly, brushing her fingertips against Eponine’s hair, “you are loved. You are so very loved.”
Outside the Cafe Musain, the sun shines brightly, and flowers grow between cracks in the cobblestones.