Chapter Thirty

                                    

                                          
Fabian's POV
                          
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I figured I was seeing things, but one glance at Paris, and I knew I wasn’t. 
                          
My heart instantly shattered as I watched her stare at her mother in disbelief. Behind her beautiful eyes, the turmoil was evident. I hated it. I hated watching her heartbreak before my eyes, yet I didn’t know what to do or say to her. 
                          
She was so happy today. Though she had a bad week, I was glad that her weekend started off well, seeing that she really enjoyed visiting Dad. If only we were a little bit later or earlier, then she’d go to bed happy and send me one of those adorable pictures from under her covers, with her purple bonnet over her head and her retainer against her teeth. 
                          
But one simple thing at the wrong time ruined her night, and by the looks of it, it would leave a permanent stain on her view of life. 
                          
I’ve had my fair share of family drama. I know what it’s like to wake up one day, and your entire world crumbles before you. I didn’t want that to happen to Paris. I didn’t want the light in her soul to diminish, not even a little bit. The world needed her light. 
                          
I needed her light.
                          
I wish I could keep her sheltered from pain, like being her cocoon that blocks it all away. But deep down, I knew that I wouldn’t always be able to, for instance, with that best friend of hers. I know that they haven’t been talking, and I also know that it affects her.
                          
I don’t like the guy, but she does. I love that she had laid her expectations with him concerning us. She’s utterly perfect—like my personal bud of life, laughter and happiness, blooming each day. 
                          
I hated that my flower was now in pain, and my chest clenched when a tear rolled down her plump, pink cheek. I instinctively pulled her to me, but she shrugged away and pushed her door open instead.
                          
I watched wide-eyed as she stomped over to the car where her mother was, and I quickly bolted out behind her. I grabbed onto her arm, spinning her around to see her eyes filled with contempt and anger. 
                          
She wasn’t sad. Not even a little bit. She seemed mad—disappointed even. But she didn’t seem too surprised like I anticipated. Did she know? 
                          
“Fabian, let go of me,” she demanded as she began wringing her arm from my grip. I held her with my other hand too, and she only remained struggling in my grasp. 
                          
“Paris, baby, calm down, please.” I tried to get a hold of her, but she wiggled her tiny arm from my hands. I had no idea what she was going to do, but her fighting caught her mother’s attention, and she was now exiting the car as her now stunned lover remained around the driver’s wheel. 
                          
“Paris?” her mother questioned with her eyebrows pulled together before her eyes darted to me and my car, and her gaze turned heated. “You have just gotten out of punishment for breaking curfew, and here you are coming home this late again?” 
                          
“Don’t you use that tone on me!” she screamed, and I stumbled back a bit, shocked to hear such anger coming from tiny, harmless Paris. “I’m not the married woman locking lips with a stranger!”
                          
Her mother looked like deer in headlights as Paris said this, her chest heaving as she cried harder. I tried to reach for her again, but she shook me off yet another time. I felt helpless. I didn’t know what to do or say to calm her down, and to make it worse, the front door of their house pushed open, and her dad appeared, looking equally confused. 
                          
“Paris?” he mumbled as he descended the steps and came closer. “What’s going on here?” 
                          
Paris laughed humorlessly before motioning to her mother and secret lover. “Why don’t you ask her?” Paris spat. “I just caught her making out with this man.”