Chapter 55 Chapter 55

Chapter 55 Chapter 55

Fabian
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I figured I was seeing things, but after one glance at Paris, I knew I wasn’t. My heart shattered as I watched her stare at her mother in disbelief. Behind her beautiful eyes, the turmoil was clear. I hated it. I hated watching her heart break before my eyes, yet I didn’t know what to do or say.
Paris was so happy today. Though she had a dreadful week, I was glad that her weekend started well, seeing that she enjoyed visiting Dad. 
If only we were a little later or earlier, she’d go to bed happy and send me one of those adorable pictures from under her covers, with her purple sleep cap and retainer against her teeth. But one simple thing ruined her night, and by the looks of it, it would leave a permanent stain on her view of life.
Family drama is something I have had. I understand what it’s like to wake up one day to your entire world crumbling before you, and I didn’t want that to happen to Paris. I didn’t want the light in her soul to diminish—not even a little. The world needed her light. I needed her light. I wish I could keep her sheltered from pain, like being a cocoon for her that blocks it all away.
But deep down, I knew I wouldn’t always be able to, for instance, with her best friend. They hadn’t been talking, and it affected her. I don’t like the guy, but she does. And Paris made her wishes clear to him, so he understood where we stood. I loved that about her. 
She was 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 ebbed down her plump, pink cheek.
I instinctively pulled her to me, but she shrugged away and pushed the door open instead. My eyes widened as she stomped to the car where her mother was, and I bolted out behind her. 
I grabbed her arm and spun her around, where her eyes met mine—filled with contempt and anger. Paris wasn’t sad, just furious—disappointed, even. But she didn’t seem too surprised as I expected.
“Fabian, let go of me,” she demanded as she wrung her arm from my grip. I held her with my other hand too, and she only struggled in my grasp.
“Paris, baby, calm down, please.” I tried to keep hold of her, but she wiggled from my hands. I had no clue what she was going to do, but her fighting caught her mother’s attention.
Mrs. Bennett left the car as her stunned lover stilled 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 just got out of punishment for breaking curfew, and you’re coming home late again?”
“Don’t you use that tone on me!” Paris shrieked, and I stumbled back, 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 a deer in headlights as Paris said this. She cried even harder, I tried to reach for her again, but she shook me off. I felt helpless. To make matters worse, her dad appeared from the house, looking equally perplexed.
“Paris?” Mr. Bennett muttered as he descended the steps. “What’s going on here?”
Paris laughed humourlessly 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.”
The man—Mrs. Bennett’s lover—looked as if he was ready to drive away. Neighbours peeked through their windows, and Cynthia joined us, too. However, she stayed on the porch and watched. Her dad stared at me for a minute with a curt nod before returning his attention to his family with a sigh.
“Paris, let’s go inside. You’re waking the neighbours.”
She stumbled at her dad’s words, and I caught her with a sigh as she gazed at him in disbelief. Mr. Bennett had yet to address what Paris had just revealed to him, and after watching his stance, he wasn’t surprised either. Mrs. Bennett looked guilty, but not where her husband was concerned. More like for her children, who had now learned her secret.
“Unbelievable,” Paris mumbled before sprinting back to the car. I stood, just as awestruck as everyone, as she slammed the door behind her.
“Paris!” her mother called and moved to go after her, but Mr. Bennett stopped her.
“Fabian, let’s go!” Paris shouted, but I stood there, glancing between them. I had no idea what to do. Should I yield to my upset girlfriend’s request, coming in the middle of a family issue? Or should I let her parents decide what their 17-year-old daughter should do? 
Of course, I wanted to do what Paris wished, but it wasn’t my call, considering her parents were present. Still, I believed she’d drive away without me if I didn’t get in that car soon.
“It’s okay,” her dad said in a small voice, looking both tired and embarrassed, maybe because of the commotion on their street caused by his family and the now exposed affair his wife was having. I nodded at his approval and jogged to the car without another thought. Mrs. Bennett protested, but her husband dragged her inside.
Paris was already strapped in and ready to go. Sighing, I joined her in the car, seeing that her tears had stopped, and her face was void of emotion. It scared me. I have never seen Paris so… stoic. I reached for her hand, and thankfully, she didn’t pull away this time. 
I brought my lips to her knuckles, knowing how much she loved when I did that, but her expression remained the same. I sighed again.
There were a million ways to cheer her up. But she didn’t need cheering up. I believed she needed to express her thoughts.
“Where should I take you?” I asked in a soft, careful voice. The last thing I wanted was for her to snap again.
“Anywhere,” she mumbled. “Anywhere but here. I don’t want to be here.”
Her voice broke, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I hated to see her cry, let alone be so unhappy. Despite her silent protests, I pulled her onto my lap, happy that the car was too dark for anyone to see. 
She snuggled her nose in my neck after she stopped fighting me, and soon, warm liquid seeped through my shirt. I squeezed her tighter and hoped my embrace would offer some level of comfort to her.
This couldn’t be easy for her, either. She regarded the world from such a positive and vibrant perspective that it was utterly adorable. Paris would cry if we passed a dead puppy or smile at the strangest and simplest things, like frolicking butterflies. Paris didn’t deserve pain. She was far too good for it.
“He knew,” she mumbled, almost inaudible. “My dad knew.”
I said nothing. If I spoke, I’d ruin it for her. She needed to let it out, so I simply listened.
“Do you know why I was mad? I guess I suspected it too. Every time we would gather as a family, it felt so strained, like an elephant sat with us. They acted like a scripted couple, and I figured something wasn’t right all along.” She sniffled as she continued. “When it started happening, I sensed the shift in our home; I did. I somehow realised that something was off, but I played the role of good daughter, just as they played theirs.”
She pulled away and stared at me, her usually bright eyes now dull and sad. “I stopped watching films with happy families. I stopped paying attention to what a family would feel like because it always triggered my panic attacks, fearing what could happen to my life one day. Because somehow, I knew this was inevitable.”
I remembered the night I found her passed out in my room. Jessy had mentioned that she was fine one second looking at pictures, then she was gone. I feared it would happen again. No harm could come to my Paris. I wouldn’t allow it.
“The thought of family always scared me because mine was falling apart,” she added.
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t falling apart, but I wouldn’t tell her something I wasn’t sure of. But as she spoke, I realised this was an occurring problem far before she met me. How did she cope? How did she control her unusual yet real panic attacks? 
I didn’t know. Seeing it happen before her eyes showed her how real it was, but she still had to heal. A lot too. And I intended to be there at every stage, no matter how hard it got.
She stuck by me when I told her of my past and family issues, and she made me happy. So, I vowed to do the same for her forever. But first, there was something I needed to do.