As we stepped into Franca's room, I couldn't contain my anger over the way she spoke to Bella; it was too much. I had to give her a piece of my mind. "What was all that drama for?" I asked, my voice rising immediately as she shut the door behind her.
"As I stepped into Franca's room, the soft glow of table lamps warmed the space. The scent of her perfume, a subtle blend of floral and citrus, filled the air. The plush carpet beneath my feet felt luxurious, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. It was a "It was a world away from my humble apartment with Bella.
"Excuse me?" Franca turned to face me, her deep brown eyes piercing mine, her dark hair cascading down her light brown skin. She was a stunning beauty, indeed.
"Don't try to put this on me," she said, her voice low and even. "Isn't this what you wanted?"
I felt a pang of guilt, unable to meet her gaze.
"Well, yes, but not this way. That was too harsh, Franca," I said finally, trying to defend myself. "You could have just walked away without saying anything. How do you expect her to feel after all those things you said to her?"
Franca's expression turned incredulous. "How do you expect her to feel? And what about me? Huh?" She threw her bag onto the bed, her frustration evident.
"Well, if you care so much about how she feels, why not go back to her?"
"That's not what I meant"
That's what you sound like. Look, Ryan, I'm not your side chick or just some random girl to you. Do you think I'm happy sneaking around every time we wish to have our time together, like it's an offense to fall in love with you?"
Franca's eyes locked onto mine, her voice dripping with conviction. Then she took a deep breath. "You know what? I'm glad she saw us. It was finally time she understood what was really going on." She took a step closer, her voice taking on an intimate tone.
"I really want you for myself, alone. I didn't like sharing you with her."
At first, I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. But her words drew me back in. I searched her face, seeking sincerity – and saw it in her eyes – yet she was still wrong. "I know that, but still it wasn't a good reason to insult her that way. That's all I'm saying."
Her hands reached out, resting on my chest.
"I know. And I'm sorry Ryan. But I can't help how I feel. I want all of you. I'm not cool with the fact that you have another girl in your life. You've made a choice, haven't you?"
Her eyes searched mine, awaiting my response. "Right?" she pressed, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, my mind racing for a moment. But I had already made my decision, so I nodded. Franca's expression changed, a mix of relief and trepidation, as she smiled and slowly gave me a deep kiss, leading to another passionate make-out session.
———————-
** 1:03 am, Saturday **
The day of our departure to France had finally arrived. It still felt surreal; I was leaving everything behind….and Bella.
I sincerely hadn't meant for things to turn out this way. I knew it would be hard on her, but I believed it was for the best. Honestly, I didn't see a future for us together, only a rough road ahead with impossible expectations.
My thoughts drifted back to two days ago when I met Franca's father. It was just a day after the confrontation.
As we entered his study, Franca jumped into his arms, their close bond was quite evident.
"Dad, I'd like you to meet Ryan... the one I told you about."
"His piercing brown eyes, identical to Franca's, bore into mine, their intensity heightened by the faint scent of leather and cigar smoke wafting from his study. The silence was palpable, punctuated only by the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. The soft creak of his leather chair broke the stillness as he leaned forward."
"Ryan," he acknowledged, his tone measured as extended my hand, and he shook it firmly, his grip brief.
"It's a pleasure, Sir," I said, with a slight bow, matching his formality.
He exuded a commanding presence, despite likely being in his late fifties. His dark hair, flecked with grey, was trimmed short, accentuating his sharp jawline.
Franca chimed in, "And I was thinking he'd follow us to Paris for the holidays. I'd love to spend more time with him… that is if you don't mind father".
After a brief silence, a warm smile spread across his face.
"Anything that makes my baby happy," he said.
His words caught me off guard; I had expected interrogation, not immediate acceptance. It seemed he was a pragmatist type of father who prioritized Franca's happiness above all else.
Then, he faced me, his gaze straightforward. "I see my little pumpkin pie has chosen you?" he asked, and I nodded in response. After a brief silence, he spoke up, his tone firm. "She is my all. I don't play with her. Always make sure to keep her happy". I just kept nodding before he he even finished talking.
"I'm glad we understand each other," he added, his tone reassuring. He then pulled me into a hug, his voice taking on a stern tone as he whispered in my ear, "Ever see a tear fall from her eyes because of you, and I promise I'll have your head on a spike within the hour."
We released each other, and Franca, who had been quiet until then, spoke up, her joy radiant. "You're the best, Dad! I'm so happy!" She jumped into his arms once more.
Her father's gaze softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's all that matters, my sunshine... that's all that matters," he said, warmth filling his voice.
That unsettling encounter with Franca's father left a lasting impression. Since then, I'd made it my mission to keep Franca happy – not just for her sake but also to avoid her father's wrath.
My thoughts drifted back to Bella. Catching me with another girl was one thing; leaving her was another. It wasn't a decision I took lightly, but I needed a fresh start. Time never waits for anyone, and at my young age, I couldn't afford to waste years on Bella's deceased father's farm.
A harsh reality, perhaps, but one I had to face. As the saying goes, "The day you acknowledge the harsh truths is the day you take a giant leap toward success." That's exactly what I was doing.
Still, I couldn't leave without a goodbye. Despite the risks of infuriating Franca, I felt compelled to apologize and make amends. I poured my heartfelt thoughts onto paper, crafting a sincere letter.
I knew it would bring Bella to tears again. Her love for me was genuine, and I couldn't deny the pain I'd caused.
If love got the job done, we wouldn't be where we were I felt She had to understand that too.