Fall in love with an assassin

Chapter 13

Belle had been sitting at the bar table next to the red curtains for more than an hour. That morning she didn't feel like shopping, neither getting lost while wandering around the city streets rethinking of what had about to happen the day before. She couldn't get that episode out of her mind. The more she thought about it, the more she believed that Destiny was shamelessly playing around with her.

Damned Destiny! She thought. She would have liked to have shouted it to the world. Shameless, undermost and obscure hypocrite Destiny. Damn you! And there is nothing more to say!

Suddenly Belle jumped up. Someone had sat down next to her. It was as if that person came out of nowhere. Two big, dark eyes were staring at her under two big, thick frowning eyebrows.

"Sam!" She blurted out.

"Belle." He said in a serious tone. He still had his usual dark beard but it was longer and thicker; he looked older and more authoritative. He had grown his hair longer; he was wearing a black suit with a red tie. He looked like he had just walked on a red carpet event.

That damned, unbearable, treacherous, contemptible Destiny! Belle cursed a couple of times trying to restrain herself from breaking the cup she was holding in her hands.

Belle stared at him silently, trying not to show her surprised or disorientated. She blinked a couple of times as if Sam was a hallucination.

"What are you doing here, Sam?" She finally asked in a feeble voice.

Sam adjusted himself on the chair, planning to stay for a while: "I should ask you that question. You don't call. I never see you. What do you expect? This new job of yours takes up a lot of your time. Have you forgotten about me? Explain this to me because I have been asking myself these questions for a while now." He said in a low and cold voice. Belle felt like a little child who had just been scolded by her father and it wasn't the first time he made her feel that way.

Belle scratched her hands while she could hear her stomach pierce by his serious and dark gaze. She had never seen Sam so angry before; not even at work; especially when he was with her.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I haven't even had the time to think..."

"Of course!" He burst out. "As if I don't mean anything to you! You cannot imagine how much I have suffered, Belle! You just don't want to understand that I love you!" He shouted.

Belle jerked on the chair, swallowing and biting her lower lip, while Sam was slamming his fist on the table. He settled his tie, taking a deep breath.

"Sam" she implored "please, don't shout."

He unbuttoned his shirt collar and gazed into the emptiness, pretending he was sitting alone. "Was I just a pastime for you, Belle?" He asked sarcastically. "A fool who kept you company when you had nothing better to do?"

"No, Sam." She replied. Her voice was already trembling. "You are the only friend I've ever had." She tried to hold back a tear which was about to drip down her face from her right eye.

Sam looked at her incredulous and sorry; he suddenly abandoned that serious and stiff look and went back to his old self; he moved his chair closer to her and pulled her hand away from her face so that he could look at her into the eyes.

"Don't cry, please." He whispered wiping tears away. "Come, I'll accompany you to the ladies room." He said standing up and helping her out of the chair. They entered the restroom. Sam grabbed some tissues out of his pockets and wiped two tears off her face, pulling her towards him. Belle looked at herself in the mirror while Sam dried her cheeks.