Back in France before Eric left for America…

~~~~Christine's POV~~~~

        I couldn't believe that Rosie left. I never meant to keep that secret from her. I was just trying to be a good mother. I wanted to protect her. And look where that got you. Your only child despises you all because you “wanted to protect her”.

You should have told her. You wouldn’t be in this mess if you did. Better yet, why didn’t you just stay with Eric? Why did you have to go back to Raoul? I shook my head, releasing my head of the thoughts that filled it.

I was right though. Why didn’t I tell her? Why didn’t I stay with Eric? Why did I go back to Raoul? What did Raoul have that Eric didn’t? Eric was amazing. He was a great musician, artist and an excellent lover.

I sat in the kitchen “patiently” awaiting Eric’s return with Rosie. Clearly she couldn’t have gone far. I quickly snapped out of my thought when I heard the front door open and close.

Eric walked into the kitchen, sat in a chair next to me and silently cried. “Well, did you find her?” I asked. Eric lifted his head and his eyes were red and puffy. He nodded his head and put his hands on his face and continued to cry. Tears welled up in my eyes and I got up and walked out of the room.

I ran up to my room and shut the door. I walked over to the mirror and looked in it. When I saw what was in front of me, I became infuriated and grabbed the mirror and threw it to the ground. I wasn’t mad at Rosie or Eric. I was mad at myself.

This was my fault. Rosie always came to me and told me everything, and I couldn’t even tell her who her real father is. What is wrong with me? The tears kept falling from my face and I jumped when I felt two arms wrap around me and pull me close.

“Everything is going to be alright. Rosie is a big girl and can take care of herself. I will go out again tomorrow and look for her some more.” He said. I nodded my head and turned into his embrace and he held me while I cried. Hopefully she is alright and will come home soon.   

~~~~The Next Day~~~~

            This morning, Eric left to look for Rosie some more. Hopefully he will find her safe and sound. During the time that he was out, Raoul had come home after spending countless days and hours at the local bar. I was tired of his drunkenness.

I wish he would stop drinking and wasting all of our money. Because of him, we were buried up to our eyes in debt. How were we ever going to get out of it? “Christine, why isn’t lunch ready and served?” he asked.

            I was genuinely afraid of him. Since he was drunk almost all of the time, he can be very irritable and violent. He usually took his anger out on me. He never once hurt Rosie. I would never let him, but there was a time when he almost did hurt her.

~~~~Flashback~~~~

            It was about 3 years ago. Rosie was 14. Rosie and I were in the kitchen helping the maids make dinner, when Raoul had come home drunk as usual. No one had ever spoke about him being drunk because if we did, there would be severe consequences.

Anyway, so Raoul came into the kitchen saying, “What are you doing?!” he yelled. We all froze, knowing that he was obviously upset about something, whether it was about something that really happened or something that never happened, but when he was upset, beware.

            “Mummy, why does father yell?” Rosie asked quietly. I quietly shushed her, but Raoul cut me off saying, “Child, how dare you interrupt me! Don’t you ever disrespect me again!

        Do you understand me?!” he said as he pulled his hand back as if to strike her, but I stepped in front of her and took the slap. “Don’t you ever hurt her! I don’t care if you hurt me, but never lay a hand on her.” I said. He stayed silent and walked out of the kitchen.

~~~~Flashback Over~~~~

            “Christine, I will not ask you again. Whyisn’t lunch ready and served?” he asked I snapped out of my thoughts and looked over at him, but never said anything. “Christine, what is wrong with you?” he asked again. I started to tear up again and said, “Rosie ran away.” I said.

        He didn’t even look like he cared. “Well, good riddance. I never liked her anyway. She was always so much like…like…like HIM.” He said. I knew what he meant by “him”. He meant Eric.

            Then I snapped out of my thoughts again and refocused on what he said. He said “good riddance.” Did he not like Rosie? Wasn’t he upset that she was gone?

        “Aren’t you upset? She could be sick or hurt or, God forbid, dead. And you aren’t the least bit worried. Don’t you love her?” I asked. He never answered, but quietly left the room and that was the last that we ever talked on the matter.