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"Don't say it!" Giselle hid her face behind her hands and sobbed. "Don't say... He can't be..."
Xavier didn't stop, "He's... He's been killed."
It hit her like a bolt of lightning.Dead.He's dead.She stood there, processing the news, hoping for her heart to give up on her.
"Watch your mouth." Her voice shook.
He shook his head slowly and watched her.
The temperature dropped drastically and goosebumps formed all over her skin. A million questions cluttered her mind.
How did Xavier know? Was he sure? Who'd killed Abbott? Why was he killed? Where was he killed? Where was his body? Did he suffer?
What was she going to do? How could she be so unfortunate? Why couldn't she be the one reunited with her mother instead of him?
But all she could focus on was the emptiness that clawed at her and the realization that she was never going to see her father again. She couldn't wrap her mind around it.
Xavier tried to reach her. She inched back, staring at him in horror, then ran toward her room and locked herself inside. She knelt on the floor beside her bed and stared into the distance as her tears fell.
Xavier banged on the door, but all she could hear was a memory. Abbott's voice echoed from afar,"When I die, Giselle, I wish for my body to be buried here, in Petrichor."
Giselle screamed as if that would make it all rewind, as if that would wake her up from the nightmare.
Her throat hurt, and she let out the sobs. She couldn't bear it. Dark spots dotted her vision. Her heart thumped against her ribcage. Her head started spinning. The last thing she remembered was her door slamming open, and then the darkness took over.
~*~
The first rays of the morning sun seeped through the curtains, spreading dim light into Giselle's room. Xavier sat beside the bed, staring at her, wondering if he'd ever forget the image of the moment when he saw the light extinguish in her eyes.
Because of him.
He looked at his hand that ached with fresh cuts and then back at Giselle. Her eyes moved back and forth beneath her lids, and he wondered if she was dreaming. Were her dreams an escape, or were they as scary as her reality?
She groaned, and he leaned forward to brush the hair off her forehead.
"Giselle?" he called softly.
She stirred. "Chris."
He froze. "...Giselle?"
"Chris, daddy's hurt..." she murmured. Her frown deepened. She hiccupped twice, a tear escaped her closed eyes, and then she calmed again.
He stared at her longingly for another moment. Feeling betrayed, he sighed, got up, and walked out of her room.
No. Xavier couldn't ever tell Giselle that he was the one who'd killed her father. He couldn't afford to lose her. Not to Chris. Not because of the mistake he wasn't even supposed to make. It was not his fault. It was not his fault.It was not his fault!
With a roar of anger, Xavier hit the vase containing day-old roses with his hand. It fell to the floor and shattered.
Chapter 16
It was a Saturday morning in Phoenix and Chris expected a call from Giselle. They were supposed to be back yesterday, but their plan might have changed, so he expected them to arrive today.
He fidgeted with his phone, glancing once at Abby who sat on his bed in her usual white t-shirt and jeans, her red lips a contrast to her casual attire. She was immersed in a magazine with a picture of revolting green-colored juice on the cover. They'd gone out for a breakfast date this morning, and on their way back, Abby had expressed her wish to meet Giselle again ("Since you mention her so much," she'd said), so they were at his house, just hanging out till the Beaumonts arrived.
It'd only been a week since they'd started dating but had fallen into a comfortable non-platonic friendship. They'd gone on a total of three dates while Giselle was in Petrichor, which was unusually a lot for Chris since he was used to bringing home his office instead of girls. Hanging out with Abby gave him an excuse to unwind, even if all they did was sit in silence, such as today.
She wasn't a bad company either. They had a lot in common. They were both athletic, workaholics, and of the same age.
