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Giselle had never seen Chris so broken before and never did so after that day. He'd rushed from his college, looking haunted. He couldn't even talk. He tried giving a eulogy at their funeral, but couldn't say a word due to his stammer.
After the funeral, he stayed cooped up in either his room or Giselle's for weeks. It was the first time she'd hugged him since he'd gone to college, and that hug didn't spark any electricity. It was pure. He'd cried in her arms, after burying his parents. That whole night, Chris stayed up in her room, staring at the floor. She didn't ask him any questions. She didn't even console him. The only thing she did was sit beside him, her head on his shoulder, tears falling one by one.
She was sure of her feelings toward him that day. Only friendship. Otherwise, she convinced herself, that his touch would've knotted her stomach the way his glance used to do when they were younger. And she never gave it another thought.
Three years later, her mother fell severely ill, and it changed her entire personality. Chris was the only consistent thing in her life that kept her from shattering.
Even when he was busy with his last year of college, he'd helped with Abbott's work, taken care of Rose during her illness, and kept Giselle from falling apart.
She never considered how broken Chris was at that time. The only thing that showed his sadness was the occasional stammer in his speech, for Rose was like a mother to him, too.
In their younger years, whenever he got sick, Chris would sneak into their house, and Rose would take care of him since his stepmother didn't use to bother. She'd make him soup and apply a wet towel to his forehead. She'd look after him till he felt better. And on the better days, she cheered for his success as much as she did for her own daughter. She'd loved him like a son.
When her mother died after losing the two-year battle with her illness, Giselle lost all the will to live. She'd seen her mother die a slow and hopeless death, and it killed her on the inside. Chris was the one who pulled her out of the darkness when he was breaking down just as much. He did everything in his power to bring her back to life, no matter how busy with work he’d gotten. When she couldn't sleep, he'd stay up with her, singing to her till she'd doze off.
She respected him more than anyone in this world. If she let herself think about living a life without him in it, it suffocated her. But her father's words came as a shock despite everything Chris and Giselle shared. Her mind was cluttered, and she didn't know what to think anymore.
Giselle didn't realize when she'd reached Paradise Café. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she rid her mind of all the thoughts.
All she wanted was to be with Xavier and not think about Chris for a while.
The bell jingled as she opened the door of the Café and walked in. There was a couple in the corner arguing in hushed voices. Three men sat at the front table, laughing at a joke one of them had probably cracked. A couple with their two kids sat at the table behind them. And Xavier was at his usual spot—the farthest corner. The only thing unusual today was another man sitting next to him.
She stopped, wondering why he'd asked her to come when he already had company. He never liked being with anyone when she was with him. Paranoia gripped her brain in a fist, and as much as she tried to have an open mind about him belonging to a gang, fear traveled through her body.
She opened her phone, checking his message again to confirm. It was received forty-five minutes ago.
Xavier: Café. Waiting for you.
She looked back up and her eyes met his. He was walking toward her with a smile. The stranger remained at the table.
"Where were you?" he asked softly, touching her cheek.
Giselle glanced at the family in front of her and ignored the woman’s judgmental shake of head at their public display of love.
She smiled, held his hand on her cheek, then sighed. "With dad. Nothing serious."
She didn't know if she wanted to talk to him about Chris yet. She didn't know how he'd react to it. But also, she just didn't want to think about it anymore.
His eyebrows merged for a moment, then he smiled again. "I want you to meet someone."
"Yeah?" She glanced at the farthest table. "Who?"
"My best friend."
She raised her right eyebrow. "You have a best friend?"
He took her hand and led her toward the table. "No, only you get to have one." She chuckled. "Mine is of the same gender, though."
She cringed internally at the taunt but brushed it off. "What I meant was, why do you want me to meet your friend?"
He glanced back at her and shrugged. "I didn't have a family to introduce you to."
Her heart broke for him. She squeezed his hand. He smiled at her.
They reached the table and settled down. Xavier sat next to Giselle and held her hand, fingers intertwined. He moved the freshly stained cups of coffee to the side with his other hand.
His friend sat across the table. She looked at him and shuddered slightly at the oh-so-familiar face. It was the man who'd told Xavier that Sean wanted to see him. Even though he'd smiled at her warmly that day, Giselle felt uncomfortable. She couldn't stop thinking that if he knew Sean, he was a part of the gang, too. What else did she expect?
