Page 22 of Madam Alana

“Continue,” he prodded.

“Then one day, government people came to the orphanage alongwith others wearing white with religious insignias imprinted on their clothes.All of us were taken on several fights and then carted through Americancustoms. I didn’t speak a word. Simply followed the line of girls where theywent. I was frightened beyond comprehension. They didn’t share much with us.Absolutely nothing to make us feel safe and protected.”

I could hear Christophe suck in a harsh breath. “That’sterrible. I’m sorry you went through that.”

I nodded. “It only got worse after that. We were placed inpairs in foster care and group homes. Places where the guardians treated uslike wild animals. Then the abuse started. We were beaten, molested, evenstarvedin order tostay in line. And when the socialworkers came, we stayed silent because we knew it would be worse if wecomplained.”

Christophe grumbled under his breath in French. He spoke sofast and so angrily, I couldn’t catch any of it.

“Do you want me to stop?” I didn’t recognize my own voicebecause it sounded monotone, lacking any warmth at all. I’d focused on my spotacross the room as the numbness took over like it usually did when I discussedmy past.

“Not if you’d like to go further. I will hear anything you wishto share so that I may understand you better.” His voice was ravaged and when Iglanced at him, his eyes were red and glassy. A tear slid down the side of hischeek.

I was baffled and taken aback. This big, strong,larger-than-life man was risking his very masculinityinorder toshow me his true feelings. Sharing openly through his physicalresponse how very much my story affected him emotionally. I couldn’t believeit. I’d learned over time that showing your emotions opened people up to seeingyour weaknesses and vulnerabilities. This man cared not about what his tearsand obvious discomfort said about him but instead let them show as he wiped thewetness away.

“Eventually, we were forced to go to school. This I loved.School was the one location I felt safe. We were fed regularly, given languagelessons, and allowed to read as many books as we wanted. I’d already learnedEnglish from my mother as she spoke it to her gentleman callers, so thelanguage tutors allowed me to sit quietly and read. It gave me the chance todisappear into pretend worlds and live a new life. One where I wasn’t beingmistreated.”

“Putain!”Fuck!Christophe cursed and wiped his handover his brow.

A knock on the door made him jerk unnaturally as though he’dbeen frightened, his mind in another place. Likely on what I’d shared.

“Our food. Please, hold that thought. I will take care ofit,” he said gruffly, emotion still clinging to his voice.

I simply took that time to breathe. In for five beats. Outfor five. Over and over until a sense of calm spread through my veins.

He was taking my history remarkably well, but I hadn’tgotten to the worst of it yet. The parts I didn’t think he’d be able to lookpast.

Christophe rolled in a metal cart with a few domed platessitting atop it.

“Do you want to talk and eat or finish our conversation?” heasked, offering me the option to choose.

“Whatever you prefer,” I answered automatically.

He tightened his jaw and then rolled the cart to the side ofthe table and sat down in his seat once more.

“I want to hear what my wife wants to share with me morethan I could ever want to eat. Please,cheri.”He gestured with a hand to continue.

“It’s not pretty.”

“I am used to seeing both beautiful and hideous things andam able tosee through to the heart of them. Sometimes themost terrifying image can bring out such miraculous beauty you wouldn’t believeit. Like a caterpillar. It’s not inherently pleasant to look at, all thosespindly moving legs and contorted shape. Then it morphs into somethingcongealed and rather disgusting, attaching itself to a tree like a leech, whileit does the hard work on itself behind the walls of the cocoon. Then when it’scompleted the healing and reshaping process, it breaks through the hard shelland is born anew. A butterfly—each unique and special in its own way. That ishow I see you.”

“As a butterfly?” I whispered, my heart clenching, my verysoul trembling at how much I wanted to be that for him.

He nodded. “The most mystical and stunning creature whomakes everyone smile when it happens to fly near them. That sense of wonderleft with themeach and everytime. That isyou,Alana. A perfectly unique butterfly.”

“You’re very good at wooing a woman,” I responded curtly,not yet capable of believing his analogy fit me in the slightest or that he hada reason to believe such things.

He didn’t know…

“On second thought, I think our chat has been heavy enoughfor this night. We can talk more in the coming days. How about we eat ourdinner in front of the television? We’ll gorge on cheeseburgers, fries, and thechocolate cake I ordered from the menu.”

“You ordered cheeseburgers and fries?” I couldn’t help butsnicker.

“We are in America,cheri.I will enjoy all the stereotypical foods until my gullet is so stuffed, you’llhave to roll me onto the plane when we head home.”

The image he presented made me chuckle. “I do lovecheeseburgers.”

“Me too,cheri.” His eyeslit up with renewed happiness. “American food.” He kissed his fingertips with aflourish. “So good!”

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