by Ju Ephraime
He also did not want to pressure her. She had to make the decision to come to him on her own, but before he did anything, he had to go and see Izzabella. He had a meeting with her at noon. He didn’t know how it would happen, but she would be signing those papers today.
“Franchesca, I hate to leave so quickly, but I told you I have a meeting with Izzabella. I’m anxious to meet her to get this divorce matter settled, once and for all. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
He walked out, giving her a kiss on the lips. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He wanted so much to kiss her properly. But he respected her wishes. She’d better be ready after her three days were up. That was the most he could give her. As it was, he was hurting like hell, all over, especially his groin area. He left her and hoped this would be the last time he’d be leaving her this way.
He drove to his attorney’s office and picked up the divorce papers, and then he drove to the airport and took one of the commuter flights to Paris. He picked up a rental car and was on his way to her office in less than two hours.
He turned into the street where Izzabella worked, and he couldn’t help wondering what her reason was for denying him the divorce. He could have demanded the divorce on grounds that she murdered his unborn child, but he didn’t want to drag her name through the mud.
Also, he had no desire to get married again, so he used it as a safeguard, but now the circumstances had changed drastically, and she’d give him the divorce if it was the last thing she did. She evidently didn’t care for him as he cared for her. Otherwise, why would she kill his child? And more than anything, he’d never known she was pregnant. She’d denied him even that.
He walked into the building and was very surprised to see very little had changed about the place. There was the same doorman he remembered and the same elevator facing his desk in the lobby.
He signed the visitors’ book and took the elevator up to the fifth floor which was where Izzabella had her private office. The business occupied three floors. The first two were the stores, and the third one was for the administrative staff. Izzabella occupied half of the space allocated to staff.
Her secretary buzzed him in to her office, and he found himself bracing for the impact, but he needn’t have worried. She was on the phone and motioned him to take a seat. He ignored her and remained standing. He took the time to observe her.
He had to admit, being in the same room with her, he felt nothing, not even the hint of a spark. Not like the fire that would be raging in him anytime he was anywhere near Franchesca. He found it difficult to believe he was married to this woman. Next to Franchesca, she was cold. She had none of the radiance that seemed a natural part of Franchesca. He wanted to get this meeting over with.
He watched as she hung up the phone and turned toward him. Her steps slowed as she took her cool time examining him. He wished she would hurry and get this over with.
He had to admit it, she looked the same; the years had been good to her. He couldn’t believe he was married to this woman. She seemed a stranger to him.
“Hi, Damon, I see you’re looking good, as usual. What’s the urgency about this divorce?”
“Hello, Izzabella, good to see you too. I need those papers signed and in the hands of my lawyer so this divorce can be finalized. You have dragged it on for two years. I don’t know what your motive is, but I need this chapter in my life to be over and done.”
“I ask you again, what’s the urgency? It never stopped you from living your life before.”
“Izzabella, this is not a social call. I didn’t come here to discuss my personal life with you, so please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Much as you may fight it, I have a right to ask those questions.”
“No you don’t, Izzabella. You gave up that right when you murdered my unborn child. If you don’t agree to this divorce, I’ll have to tell the courts about your actions two years ago. Is that what you want?”
“You know I don’t, but had it ever occurred to you that there was a reason why I refused you the divorce?”
“No, and quite frankly, I don’t give a damn.”
“Are you so heartless and self-centered, Damon, that you can’t see I’m still in love with you?”
“You’re still in love with me?” Had it not been so serious, he would have laughed in her face and walked out.
This entire conversation was distasteful to him. He was beginning to get enraged. He found himself pacing back and forth in the enclosed space. He was afraid if he stood still for one minute he would have his hands around her throat. She was not content with almost destroying him. Now she was toying with him, playing the cat-and-mouse game.
“Yes, I’m still in love with you. I’d hope for us to reconcile after you’d calmed down.”
“Are you that naïve that you really believe I’d take up with you from where we left off, with the death of my child between us? What utter foolishness.”
“Calm down, Damon. I never told you why I aborted the baby. Don’t you want to know?”
“No, at this point in time, it’s a moot point.”
“Well, I want to tell you, have wanted to ever since you found me at the clinic, but you were so mad you avoided talking to me and would only communicate through your attorney. I thought of writing you, but I wasn’t sure you would read my letter, and I didn’t want to take the chance of it falling into the wrong hands.”
“You were right in your assumption; I would not have read your letter. I also almost didn’t read the one you sent a few days ago. I only read it because I want to move on with my life, and it stood between me and the prize.”
“What prize? Have you met someone to replace me?”
“Let’s get this straight. No one I met, or would meet, is going to replace you in my life, for the simple reason that you occupied no place in my life. To me, you in my life was an illusion… a mistake… one I will not repeat.”
“Well, since we’re being so honest with each other, I feel no remorse in telling you; the baby I aborted two years ago was not yours. We had not been intimate for months. How could you possibly believe that baby was yours?”
Damon felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. He actually had to hold his stomach. The feeling was so strong. This was the last thing in the world he expected to hear from her.
“Are you saying, on top of everything else, you were carrying on an affair and another man’s child to boot?”
“I was alone here while you stayed in Cornwall. What did you expect me to do?”
“So, it was my fault that you cheated?”
“Yes it was. I blamed you completely. I was lonely, and I succumbed to temptation. Have you never done something you regret?”
“Not on that scale. But I don’t want to discuss this anymore. Please sign the papers.”
“I’m still in love with you, Damon, and I took the time away from you as my punishment. I’ve not had anyone since.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not impressed. I would not get back into a relationship with you if you were the last woman on earth, let alone keep you as my wife. I don’t even want to know whom you cheated on me with. I’m pissed as hell I wasted two years mourning a child that was not mine. What a total idiot I’ve been.”
“Please don’t be like that, Damon.”
“Like what? I have the divorce papers here. Please sign on the dotted line, so I can remove myself from your presence.”
Damon was happy when she complied and he was able to take the papers with him. He was so anxious to get this divorce over and done with that as soon as his flight landed back in Nice, he drove straight to his lawyer’s office to drop them off.
After he left his lawyer’s office, he was so shaken up he was not fit for his own company. He drove around for several hours, going nowhere. He wished he could go and get some healing from Franchesca’s sweet body, but he had to stay away.
He did call her to let her know the papers
were signed, and it would be only a matter of a day before the divorce was finalized. According to his attorney, their divorce would be simple and fast because they had both agreed on every aspect of the divorce and had signed the agreement to that effect.
He would be presenting it, along with the divorce petition to the court. Thank God he’d promised to let her be for a couple of days. In the mood he was in and his state of mind, he was not fit company for a dog.
He drove home and locked himself in his office and didn’t resurface until the next morning. He was so mentally and emotionally drained, he had to talk himself into going for a run. Afterward, he was glad he went because he felt better. He took a shower and put a call in to his attorney, who informed him that he’d just received the finalized document of his divorce.
Due to the fact that he’d filed for the divorce two years ago, and Izzabella was not asking for anything in the divorce settlement, it was granted immediately. His spirit was lifted. He was in control of his own destiny once again. And his destiny was Franchesca—his lovely, beautiful, passionate Franchesca.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He changed into more formal attire and drove into town to pick up the original documents from his attorney. He could have gotten the documents faxed to him and waited for the original to get to him in the mail, but he was too excited to wait.
It was due to his excitement that the chain of events that followed delayed his seeing Franchesca for six days. Filled with anticipation of the things he was going to do with her this night, he was on cloud nine when his phone rang. It was his mom telling him his father had suffered a stroke and was being taken to the hospital.
His trip to Franchesca would have to be postponed. Swinging the vehicle around, he drove like a demon, making it back in less than twenty minutes. Throwing the keys at his yard boy, he raced into the house and threw some things into an overnight bag. He called the travel agency that handled all his travel arrangements to find him a seat on the first available flight out of Nice to Cornwall. He was in luck. There was a flight leaving in a couple of hours.
Ordinarily, he would have Thorpe do this for him, but he was still angry with him for taking Franchesca from his home. He had no right. He’d call Franchesca when he got to Cornwall. This way she would have the three days she’d requested, so he put off calling her.
The flight over was very uneventful, and he made good time, going straight to the hospital upon arriving in Cornwall. He went to admitting to find out which room his dad was in. The young nurse was very helpful and took him to his father’s room.
His mom was sitting next to his dad, who was hooked up to a machine, holding his left hand.
“How is he, Mom?”
“He’s holding his own. The doctor said it was a mild stroke. He had a slight blockage in one of his arteries. It left him with a slight impairment on his left side. The doctor doesn’t think it will be permanent, but we have to wait and see. He’s going to begin physical therapy right away. They believe the sooner the muscles get moving again, the better the recovery.”
“Oh my God, Mom, this is scary.”
“He’ll be okay, son, if I have anything to do with it. This was a wakeup call. Thanks for coming, Damon.”
“I’ll stay for a couple of days, Mom, until he’s out of the hospital.”
He was only slightly relieved, but knowing his father was going to be all right gave him an opportunity to try reaching Franchesca to let her know what had happened, but the call went immediately into voice mail. He left her a brief message, promising to call her back.
The next morning he had a quick breakfast and hurried to the hospital to relieve his mom so she could go home. He walked into the room where she was talking with his dad. Damon was happy to see his dad was awake and able to speak.
“Hi, Dad, how are you feeling today?”
“I’m feeling fine. I was just telling your mom I want to go home, but she’s insisting I stay here for the couple of days the doctor requested, for observation.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Dad. I’ll stay for a couple of days, to help mom.”
He waited while his dad went for physical therapy before putting in another call to Franchesca. He got the same voice mail, but this time he didn’t leave any messages.
He tried calling several times while he was in Cornwall, but he never got her. Neither did he get a call back. He was so busy the days flew past. He had to arrange for the therapist to visit his dad at home for his daily exercises although his father insisted he didn’t need it.
The doctor told them it was a close call and a warning they shouldn’t ignore. His dad would be on blood thinners for a month, and he had to have his blood checked every day. The good thing about it, his mom was able to do it at home.
He worried about not being able to get in touch with Franchesca, but he’d have to deal with that when he returned to Nice. There was nothing he could do about it here. He was happy to spend the time with his parents. He’d really not been around enough. He made a promise to visit them more often, and not just visit but spend some quality time with them.
Seeing the progress his dad was making and his mom seemed to be taking things in stride, he confirmed his flight back home for the next morning. Finally, he was able to breathe a little easier. He was on his way to see Franchesca, his dad was on the way to a complete recovery, and his mom was fine.
She had promised to change both their diets and was looking forward to trying out new dishes. His dad was not one for eating green food, his mom had her work cut out for her. He felt reassured when he saw that his mom had things under control.
It was good to see them getting back into a routine. He’d always admired the close relationship his parents had and had hoped for this for himself. He still had hope that the second time would be the charm. He would soon find out.
*****
Franchesca was devastated at the parting from Damon, but she kept her emotions hidden from him. She’d given him a brilliant smile as she watched him drive away, but her heart was breaking, and the moment he drove off, she threw herself on her bed and cried her eyes out. She cried until there were no tears left to shed.
She wanted to call Marcella, but she was too emotional to talk with anyone. She didn’t have the energy to prepare herself something to eat. She’d not done this while she was at Damon’s, and she really didn’t have anything much in her pantry. She had not been taking care of herself properly, which was why she believed she’d fallen on the track.
She had tried to be mad with Damon, but in truth, she had no one to blame but herself. She had run to his arms, to his bed, blindly, eagerly, and, yes, shamelessly.
She tried assuring herself that Damon would be able to get his wife to sign the divorce papers and he would come to her as he’d promised. But Damon did not come. She went back to work the next day but was not much use there. Even Marcella’s caustic sense of humor could not get her out of the feeling of gloom that seemed to be with her no matter what she did.
The next day the weather turned extremely wet. It rained for two days non-stop, and Franchesca told herself that the weather was delaying his return to her.
It never occurred to her to turn her phone on. She had always kept it off because she used to receive a lot of telemarketing calls. Whoever had the number before her must have been a very popular individual. It made her life a nightmare.
Anyway, she was expecting him in person. He’d promised he would return once he got the documents signed. She tormented herself with thoughts of him making up with his wife and forgetting all about her.
This was the third night she’d cried herself to sleep. She missed Damon so much her heart ached. Without Damon she felt utterly alone. Abandoned. She tried telling herself that was ridiculous; how could he abandon her when he said he cared for her, said he would return? Franchesca alternated between feeling sorry for herself and becoming angry with Damon. She knew where he lived; she could drive herself over there.
&n
bsp; No! The very last thing she should do was go to Damon uninvited. She had her pride, and she didn’t think she would live through the humiliation if she arrived at his home to find his wife in residence.
She alternated between crying and pacing the flat like a lioness seeking her prey. During those times, if she were to see Damon, she swore she would do some bodily harm to him.
Not only was she angry with Damon, she was furious with herself. She had gone to him of her own free will, knowing nothing about him and knowing the risk involved. Now that he’d had his way with her, he had tossed her aside. In brief moments of sanity, she would tell herself he would come, but after two days of not seeing him, not hearing from him, she sank into a depression that threatened to bury her.
She took to her bed and didn’t get up or answer her phone until after the third day of taking to her bed. On the sixth day she had not seen or spoken with Damon, and she was having a difficult time dealing with the most basic of things. So, it took a while for the banging on her front door that woke her to register. Dragging herself out of bed, she went to the door to find Marcella standing there.
“What’s going on with you, Franchesca? I’ve been blowing up your phone. You turned it off. You haven’t been back to work, but one day. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing is the matter; I’ve not been feeling very well I called in to HR.”
“You’ve not been feeling very well? I’d say that’s an understatement. Well, I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. And the first order of business is to get you back to your old self again. You need a bath, and I’m taking you to get your hair shampooed and styled. Look at you. Look at your hair. A bird could make its nest in there, and you wouldn’t know. I’ll straighten this place while you get ready, and I’m not taking no for an answer. Get moving.”
Franchesca was annoyed with Marcella, but in the end, it was what saved her from sinking into a deep depression. While she took a shower, Marcella straightened up the flat, even changing the bed linen and opening the window to air out the place. Franchesca came out of the shower wearing her same old sweats and a T-shirt, but Marcella was having none of it.