Hopelessly Devoted ☆ Pierre Gasly

XXXII

The night slowly approached in England, and multiple conversations were being held between Pierre and Juliette about the past. It was late, and they both accidentally skipped dinner. Juliette threw some bread in the toaster. She lifted Frenky up and held him in his arms.

"Can I ask you two more questions? Then we don't talk about it anymore, yeh?" Pierre asked and walked over to Juliette in the kitchen. She nodded. "Why did you never tried to contact me?"

Juliette gave Frenky a kiss on his small head. "I thought you hated me after I fell out on you." Her voice was soft, fragile. "After you called my dad, he came to France in the middle of the night, and he dragged me out of the house. I forgot my phone, and I never find out that you called," she told him. "And when I bumped into Anthoine in London a few months later, he told me Sara moved away and that you were still angry with me. You got to work with my dad in 2015, and this year again, but I was scared you would still hate me."

His face softened, and he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Jules..."

"I'm so sorry."

Pierre shook his head. "Don't apologise." He ran his hand through his hair and looked down. The chances were big he would do the same in that situation... "And why were you at the barbecue while you don't like your mother?"

A deep sigh rolled over her lips. "I hoped she had changed." Juliette turned away from Pierre. "She is my mother, and it's stupid, but it's true. Yes, she's the one who hit me every day, who pushed me over the limit, who told me I was worthless and the biggest mistake on earth. Yes, because of her, I started to smoke and feel like crap. But I was like, 'What if she changed?'" Tears formed in her eyes again. "I have no idea why I went; I still regret it. But at least it is now clear she didn't change, and I haven't spoken to her ever since."

"Thank you for answering," Pierre politely said. He totally understood Juliette's side; she had a good heart. "Let's eat something and go to bed after that, okay?"

Juliette sniffed and nodded. "Do you remember that day I didn't show up at your race, and the next day I had injuries? I didn't fall on the stairs myself. I was leaving the house until I got stopped by my mother, who found out I smoked. When I tried to run away because she was getting so aggressive, she grabbed me by the ankles and basically let me fall on the stairs," she said, Pierre had the rights to know about this. "I didn't want to go to school because I had to face you and everyone, but I was too scared to stay at home. I didn't know where else to go."

"Jesus Christ, Juliette," Pierre breathed hopelessly. "I...I knew it," he whispered.

There was silence again. "Well, yeah," she mouthed. "Anyway, what do you want? I have Nutella, peanut butter, jam..." Juliette swapped the subject; she was tired of crying and wasn't particularly looking for more tears. She placed Frenky on the ground, so her hands were free.

This was the sign for Pierre to leave it for now. Forcing to talk wasn't ideal. "Nutella, please," he said. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked around in the living room. "I will sleep on the sofa tonight."

She turned around and shook her head. "I mean, if you want..." A small smile was plastered on her face; she didn't want to be alone. "Err... It's okay if..."

"I will stay with you," Pierre comfortingly smiled; he got the hint. "Come here," he said and opened his arms. "You're doing well, I'm proud of you," he whispered, there was needed some positivity, and he wrapped his arms around her.

Juliette closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "Merci."

He pressed a kiss on her cheek and softly rubbed her back. "Do you have plans tomorrow?"