We drink in silence. I savor the perfect taste of my cocktail, smoky and sweet, while ogling Darrel shamelessly. Other guests chat over their drinks, the soft hum of their conversation echoing throughout the room. Occasionally, a glass clinks against the marble bar top, or someone laughs at a joke. Jazz music plays in the background. It’s a faint purr that further enhances the bar’s sophistication.
An extremely pleasant, tingly feeling of warmth spreads through my body. My eyes never leave Darrel’s face. His gaze never strays from mine.
“So,” he finally says, “how have you been?”
“I’ve moved out of my parents’ house.”
“Where to?” His voice wavers. “Your fiancé’s?”
“I broke up with Philippe.”
He nods, barely hiding his satisfaction.
“I’m crashing at my friend Gaby’s place in Vosier-en-Haut,” I say. “I should be able to rent a room on my own in two or three months. I’m starting a new job after Easter.”
“What’s the job?”
“Receptionist in a dental center here in Annecy.”
“Fantastic!” He rubs his hands. “How did your parents take it all? Did you all… um… Have you…?”
He’s obviously struggling to find the right words, so I help him out, “Have we had an honest conversation about all the crazy shit that was going on at our house?”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“Yes, we have.”
“And?”
“It didn’t go well. They kept telling me that if I let them initiate me, then I’ll understand their reasons.” I shake my head in despair. “They truly don’t see how crazy their behavior is.”
“Did you tell them?”
“I insisted that they need to see a psychiatrist because in terms of mental health, they might not be doing much better than me,” I say with a smirk. “It didn’t look like they were open to my suggestion.”
“Did they try to stop you from moving out?”
“Not really, no.” I empty my glass.
Darrel finishes his and gestures “same for both” to the server.
“My parents were too shaken, too defeated, to try and stop me,” I say. “Dad can’t get over my betrayal.”
Darrel snorts. “He was going to murder me. Your ‘betrayal’ was a brave act of mercy.”
“That’s not how he sees it.”
“And your mother?”
“She didn’t object to my departure. She thinks that spending time apart may be what we need at this point.”
“What doyouthink?” Darrel asks, staring into my eyes.
I hold his blue gaze. “I agree with her.”
“Is there anything you need, Stella? Anything I can help you with?”
“No, I’m good.”
