Page 192 of Severed Heart
The length of it alone, the way it morphed from one of fear to precisely what she spoke—outrage—damn near took me to my knees. I’ve been hovering and suspicious since Delphine left a few nights ago to ‘run an errand she would explain later,’ knowing that something was coming. It was when my mom suggested I stay close by before they started their session yesterday that those suspicions were confirmed.
But it was the gravity of what was happening behind our spare bedroom door, her eruption just after, feeling every bit like a physical and mental blow, that had me outside that fucking door within the same heartbeat. Pacing the hall outside of it, I tuned out what was happening to respect her privacy, preferring to hear it from thesource.A trust I’ve broken in the past and knew I would have to earn back.
One she solidified I redeemed after she prompted my last confession. A confession I fully intended to give her but was hesitant to due to the picture it could’ve painted. Of a possible shift in her perception. My fears erased wholly by her reaction after. By the way she regarded me, thanked me. All secrets between us now shared. Even if it means continually deceiving my brother. Keeping him ignorant of the lengths we’ve both gone to and will continue to go to have his back. To keep him safe from evils unknown. Neither Delphine nor I blind to the sacrifices T’s made for us thus far.
But as she suspected, I have learned the nature of the beast Delphine spoke of. Having committed the necessary evils while learning of my ability to do so, and with ease. Something that initially scared me, that I feared would repel her, which has now only brought us closer. Solidifying what I’ve always known. She is, and forever will be, the only woman to know me.
All of me.
In awe of her resilience, and though I know it will take more therapy to continue to incorporate coping mechanisms she will utilize for the day-to-day, I also know the fighter I fell in love with is far stronger than my mom might give her credit for.
Resisting the urge to check on her, to hover over her any more than I have, I’m relieved when the creak of the screen door sounds. Rounding my hood, I catch sight of Delphine emerging from the house in a black sweaterdress. Her hair styled in the gorgeous waves she often boasts that her new friend Layla taught her to make. Her feet covered in brand-new purple Doc Martens—boots I don’t recognize ever seeing in our shared closet.
It’s her expression that has me pausing, her silver eyes looking firelit. Dressed to kill, her mindset is evident in her face and posture. Looking ready for battle, I stand stunned, in awe of her, because Jesus, does she look incredible in the armor she chose. The sight of her in this state after what she endured yesterday nearly knocks me on my ass but only confirms my suspicions—she’s already fighting again.
“I know that look”—I tilt my head, slowly making my way toward her—“or maybe I don’t.” Her expression remains stoic as the breeze lifts her hair, the sight of it fitting as I gaze at a woman utterlyon fire.
It strikes me then what expression she’s wearing—an utterlackof fear. In wonder of her, and though I’m growing more curious, I do my best to keep my comment casual. “Those are some pretty little boots you got on there, General.”
Without acknowledging my comment, she lifts the cell phone in her hand. “I need to make a call, Tyler.”
“Okay.” I nod, a little confused by her statement. “Do you want some privacy?” I ask as I walk up to her, unable not to pay her the compliment.
“I would ask how you’re feeling right now, but it’s everywhere. You look fucking incredible, baby.” I go to give her a chaste kiss and leave her to make her call. She palms my chest to stop me, leaving her hand there while lifting her fiery silver gaze to mine. Argent flames roaring inside them as she speaks.
“Merci,” she says of my compliment. “Stay for this, Soldier,” she whispers, her voice softening for me, even as her expression begins to morph into one of wrath. I nod as she keeps me idle with the palm on my chest. She initiates the call, putting it on speaker before the line trills, indicating it’s overseas. Though confused, I stay mute.
“Ello?” A man answers a few rings in.
“Ormand,” she whispers venomously, her voice curling around his name with pure ire. “This is Delphine.”
A prolonged bout of silence follows.
“Ah, Delphine, how are yo—”
“I am wearing the boots you bought me twenty years ago,” she cuts in. “For the first time today... and doyou knowwhy?”
Dead silence lingers on the other side of the line.
“Of course you fucking know why.” Her voice rattles with ferocity as she continues. “It’s why you were crying so hard the night I woke in that hospital bed and why I pushed you away that day and every fucking day after until I ordered you to go back to France.”
I tense then, on edge about having dismissed Ormand as a suspect. Of having any part in wrongdoing toward her during my investigation due to his ties with Tobias. And the fact they’restilloverseas partners.
“So many times I wanted to tell you—” Ormand starts.
“You lying fucking coward,” she hisses. “I couldneverunderstand why you took what happened upon yourself so gravely. Why you could not look me in the eyes for months after that night. And it was because you knew you had boasted your affection for mein front of Alain. Even after Itold youthecost to me. Butthat night,you decidedto tell him you gave me these fucking boots to assert and announce yourself as hiscompetitionwhile also letting me know your patience to wait for me to leave him for you was running out. Your way of staking claim on the woman you so desperately claimed tolove—”
“Delphine—” Ormand croaks, confirming his guilt as my blood starts to boil.
“But you didn’t stay after to watch what gloating over your gifted boots caused. Did not stay to watch your childhood friend brutally and repeatedly rape his wife as he viciously beat her until she was unable to move. Before he took a marble ashtray from the kitchen table and altered her lifeforever.”
I swallow, my insides rattling with fury as Ormand begins to openly cry over the line.
“No, you did not stay for that ... did not stay to protect the woman you claimed to love. You only saw theafter. And when I woke with no idea why my husband tried to kill me due to that damage,you fucking knew.”
She relays this to us both as I match her stare, desperately trying to communicate what strength I can muster in my return gaze.
“Twenty fucking years,” she bites out with undiluted venom, “all this time you left me to put the pieces of that night together. Knowing that now, and what a fucking snake you are, I suspect you convinced Celine and Beau that it was for the best for me not to know. I fucking dare you to deny this, Ormand.”
