Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance, Natasha Boyd [e reader books .TXT] 📗
- Author: Natasha Boyd
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But he will.
Right?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
XAVIER
It didn’t take long for Sister Maria to give me her most recent financial update on our joint project. She was a wizard with numbers and also the most kind and generous soul I knew. When I’d first had the idea to help process refugee kids who arrived on island with no parents and provide them with food, safe housing, and education, Sister Maria had been a natural choice. She’d already retired from teaching and transferred her orders to a convent in her native Corsica, and we’d kept in touch over the years. Mainly our interactions had been postcards from her asking me to donate to various charities and reminding me God had seen fit to bless me for a reason. There was nothing like Catholic guilt dispensed by a kindly nun. But now that we’d started this joint venture almost five years ago, I’d found myself coming over to visit her and talk in person at least once a year. And since Arriette had died, many times more.
At the conclusion of our business talk, she made no move for us to leave to join Josephine. “I can see now why you wanted to meet me here, rather than in the citadel like we’d previously arranged.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, playing dumb. “Josephine is an architect and loves history. I thought she’d like to see it.”
Sister Maria laughed huskily. “You can’t swing a cat without hitting an ancient structure down there.” She pointed down the hill. “Far more history than up here.”
“But no view.”
She made a noncommittal grunt of affirmation then eyed the stairs leading down. “I’m assuming you know the legend of this place?”
I let out a controlled breath and nodded. “I do,” I admitted.
She took my hand in both of hers. “Does she know?”
I shook my head.
“Oh, Xavier. I do not want to see you hurt again.”
“Do you think I will be?” I asked carefully.
“It’s not for me to say. She seems lovely. Grounded. And in love with you.”
My intake of breath was short and sharp. “Do you think so?” I waited for the stab of panic I was expecting, but it didn’t come. It would later, I was sure.
“You do not need me to tell you.”
“I don’t know anything anymore. I can’t trust my own thoughts.” I tried to swallow. “The guilt I feel about Arriette—”
“Xavier. You know God doesn’t hold you responsible for Arriette.”
My throat closed so tight I could barely breathe. “Doesn’t He? How can you be so sure?”
“I have a close relationship with Him.” She winked, trying to lighten my mood, but it was no use.
“I couldn’t love her enough to save her, Sister. I think maybe I’m not capable.” I pressed my hands on the stone, pushing back and doubling over to hang my head like it could open my lungs so I could breathe, so it could soothe the pain that rushed into my chest at admitting my truth. I squeezed my eyes closed and counted through it. “I don’t … know where my heart is,” I said when I could speak again. “I love my daughter, but beyond that I fear it is dead inside for anything else or so deep I can’t find it. If I cannot find it, how can I give it to someone again?” I pried my hands from the stone wall, but they shook. My words seemed nonsensical to my ears. And I hated this feeling of vulnerability.
Sister Maria laid a warm hand on my spine, offering quiet comfort. “Your heart is not lost. You wouldn’t have brought Josephine here if it was. If anything, it’s the opposite. It is found. You just need time.”
Time.
I’d given Josephine two days, only one was left, and then she was going away. It was better this way. Wasn’t it? Safer for me. Safer for Dauphine. And I didn’t know if I wanted more. Not with this person I’d only just met a few weeks ago. It was too soon. Surely it was too soon. Wasn’t it? “I brought her here to test the legend, I think. To have God make the choice for me. To unearth my heart … or not.”
“Xavier, you deserve happiness. But counting on a legend that says a couple who come to this place together will be united forever is folly. God can only do so much. He gave you a heart and the ability to love. And I believe He also places people we need in our path. It is your choice to take Him up on it.”
“What if I’m too afraid?” I asked.
She let out a long, sad sigh. “Then you are too afraid.” She looked out to sea and then back at me. “A life lived in fear is no life at all. Look at the families you are saving, people who lived in fear but are willing to face death and hunger and drowning to get themselves and their children to a better life. A life without fear.” She took my hand and squeezed.
“Well, that certainly puts my drama in perspective,” I said grudgingly.
Sister Maria smiled. “I will say the fact you came here today to find guidance tells me that even though you are afraid, a small voice is telling you that loving Josephine might be worth the risk.”
“I think that small voice might be my libido, not my heart,” I said drily.
Sister Maria crossed herself and slapped the back of my hand.
I smirked, relieved at the break in tension.
“Here.” She tutted and handed me the manila folder she’d tucked under arm. “Let us rejoin Josephine.”
Josephine was quiet in the back of the taxi.
I was too. I was raw after my impromptu confessional with Sister Maria. As the car made its way down the winding road, I instructed the driver to take us on a short tour through the old city and to point landmarks out before returning us to the port.
I looked at my traveling companion and was overcome
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