There’s a sneaky picture taken of me and Cole while we were eating and smiling. It was when I got the mayonnaise on my nose.
I return Papa’s welcoming expression, even though I die a little inside.
I make sure to stay away from Cole for the rest of the evening. No sitting near him or across from him. No looking at him during Frederic’s briefing. When it’s time for bed, I lock my door and hide under my sheets, barely holding in the tears.
I dial Mum and she picks up after the second ring.
“Mum…”
“What is it, honey?” Her voice is weak but concerned.
“I just miss you.”
“Oh, Babydoll. I miss you, too.” She sniffles.
“Mum, are you crying?”
“I miss you. I miss home. I even miss Sebastian. What is wrong with me?”
I sit up, my heart racing. “Mum, are you drinking?”
“No. I’m watching The Notebook and hating my life.”
“How many times have you watched that one? I thought you hated romantic films.”
“I do.” She pauses. “Is he happy with her?”
I swallow, but I choose to lessen the blow. “I’m not sure.”
“He is. You just don’t want to hurt me.” She releases a breath. “I’ll be better, Babydoll. I promise.”
“Mum, if you still care about Papa, why did you guys get a divorce?”
“I do not care about him. Your father will realise his mistake with Helen and beg me to be with him, and do you know what I will tell him? No. Besides, I have Lucien.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I know, Mum. Any man is lucky to have you.”
“What’s the point if I can’t have the only one for me?” She releases a sigh. “Anyway, tell me about your day.”
We talk for a few more minutes about school and piano. After she hangs up, I keep thinking about what she said.
What’s the point if I can’t have the only one for me?
Really, what’s the point?
I’m about to switch off the bedside lamp when a shadow appears at the balcony. There’s a rustle of the curtains before someone barges inside.
My mouth opens to scream, but then I make out Cole.
He’s in simple grey cotton trousers and a white T-shirt, but he appears like a model in those home shoots.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I pant. “What are you doing here?”
“Sleeping.”
“Get out. I locked the door for a reason.”
“The locked door can’t keep me away. Besides, why do you think I chose the room next to yours? I always come through the balcony. I have to keep my door locked, too, in case Mum comes to check on me.”