She wants to escape it all. She runs from it. She gets a chance to leave it all behind. And she does, without thinking twice.
Gabrielle leaves France, her home country, when she finds an offer to babysit in London. She doesn't have a lot of ex...
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I come down to the dining room still all shaken up.
"Did you call Alex?" Rosanna asks while continuing to hum along to some song.
I scratch my arm with my nails lightly and try to get rid of the goosebumps. "Yeah, uh ... I don't think he's hungry."
Rosanna gives me all the attention. "He said that?"
I don't know why it'd be such a surprise if he said that, but judging from Rosanna's expression, she doesn't believe it. It wouldn't be the first time he didn't come down for dinner, so what's the big deal? "He said I should 'shut up and leave'," I cite his words.
I lower my head and let the hair frame my face so Rosanna can't see my expression.
"He said that?" Rosanna asks me curiously. When I lift my eyes up, she's looking at me with a thoughtful expression. "I hope he doesn't have a migraine again."
My mouth falls open. "A migraine?" I whisper, not knowing I understood him correctly.
Rosanna nods. "That boy suffers from migraines. He didn't have one for months now, but when he does have one, it's ... bad," Rosanna finishes sadly.
Alexander has migraines?
How many other things am I going to find out about him – and this family?
"He didn't say anything, but I think ..." I remember seeing him laying on the bed with his face down. I thought it's only because he didn't want to see me and acknowledge me, but now ... "I think he could've had a migraine, yes. But I don't know for sure," I blabber nervously, still going through the events in my head.
It seems possible. And that would explain his rude behaviour – not that he acts any other way when he's perfectly fine.
"Let's eat and then I'll go look what's up with him," Rosanna says.
We both sit down at the table and since it's only the two of us, we're eating in the kitchen.
"I never asked you how come you speak English so well," Rosanna starts the conversation.
"Oh. Well, my dad was English," I say, smiling at the small bits of the memory I have left of her.
"Was?" Rosanna asks.
I freeze and look at her. "My parents died when I was 5."
Rosanna cocks her head on the side and her mouth falls open in mortification. "My God, Gabby. I'm terribly sorry to hear that."
I look down at the plate and shake my head. "It's fine."
But it's not really fine. My God, how much I wish they would still be alive. Maybe my life would be different then. Maybe I would be in a different place right now. Maybe I wouldn't be right here right now.
One of the worst things that you can do to yourself is constantly question how your life would turn out if something didn't happen or if you'd make a different decision.
