“Absolutely. I promise.”
He only grunts, but since I’ve been hearing variants of this sound for some time now, I think I’m starting to decode them, and this last one?
I think it means‘suit yourself’, although I’m sure the more accurate translation is less...polite.
My rescuer leaves for real afterwards, and I fall back against the pillows and stare dazedly at the ceiling.
Now what?
My side throbs dully under the bandages.
Trina sold me out, and my rescuer wouldn’t mind getting rid of me, a.s.a.p.
Where do I go from here?
My body screams for rest, but sleep evades me. The room feels too quiet and still, and my mind won’t stop spinning. I don’t want to remember—
Wait.
I strain my ears, and the voice outside the hallway gradually becomes clear.
It’s my rescuer speaking in French.
And I...
I understand him perfectly since I’ve been secretly studying that language for years, in hopes that my dream vacation to Paris would one day come true.
“Oui, elle est en sécurité.” Yes, she’s safe.
A pause. He’s listening to whoever’s on the other end.
“C’est tout ce que tu as à dire?” Is that all you have to say?
Another pause.
“J’ai, oui.” I have, yes.
His voice drops lower, but I catch every syllable.
“Je compte la marier.” I plan to marry her off.
My heart, which had just started to feel safe, cracks right down the middle.
He wants to...
Me...
He wants to marrymeoff?
