Papillon

Chapter 43: Je t'aime

Bella

When I opened the door, my heart stopped beating.

The world stopped spinning.

Everything just stopped.

Francis stood there, face down, in his usual black on black, but he wore tailored pants and a black dress shirt rolled up to his sleeves—the expensive kind. His hair was tousled–every inch of his dirty blond curls looking just as luscious as they did before.

When he looked up to meet my gaze, it was pained.

Green.

"Hi," he said.

I died inside.

The sound of his voice made my blood curdle.

Made my chest tighten.

Made my skin burn.

I heard clamoring behind me and audible gasps travelled through the room behind me. At least I wasn't the only one who didn't know he was coming today.

"Six months," I choked. "You disappear without a fucking word for six months. Then you show up at my doorstep and you say Hi?"

He visibly blanched. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" I repeated bitterly. "I just wanted one phone call. One text. Just for you to tell me you were okay. That's it."

He didn't say anything.

My throat constricted just looking at him. I didn't even know what I was doing but I raised my hand and pushed his chest hard. As per usual, he didn't move. He was too big, too strong compared to me. I didn't relent. I pushed again.

"Bella, stop," Christian said behind me but Francis looked at him and shook his head. Tears flowed openly as I pounded repeatedly on his chest with intent to maim. My fists beat against him and he just let me–didn't move, didn't say a word, didn't do a thing.

Every bit of energy in me was expended by the time I clutched his collar in my hands and sobbed. Outright sobbed, soaking his shirt with tears. He still didn't touch me. Absently, I heard people filing out of the room until we were alone.

"Six. Fucking. Months."

He exhaled a ragged breath. "I know."

"I understand you were going through a lot and I am genuinely so sorry for everything. But you couldn't even let me know you were okay?"

"I should have."

"Yes, you fucking should have. I was so goddamn worried. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I was stressed out of my fucking mind wondering where you were," I screamed. "I didn't even know if you were alive, Francis. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

"Isabella," he started and I cried even more just hearing my name off his lips.

"One phone call. You couldn't just tell me you were okay," I reasoned.

Betrayal ran through me. It seemed we were back to my life and existence being so ridiculously trivial to him that he couldn't bother to tell me.

Using trembling hands, he cupped my cheek and lifted my face to meet his. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't want to leave you."

"You should have told me. I wanted to help," I wept.

"You did help. I thought of you the whole time I was gone. You kept me alive."

He let me sob into his chest without saying anything until I'd finally composed myself enough to pull away. Shards of glass pierced my stupid heart when I broke contact with him. He didn't stop me, just stood there as I backed up to put some space between us.