He was standing there huffing and puffing as he breathed, and his eyes were squeezed tight.
Something was wrong with him. “Are you okay?”
“Tu lui fais peur, mec,” Chris said in flawless French. You’re scaring her.
Chris thought I was scared?
I spun to look at him over the kitchen’s bar. “Je vais bien. Mais est-ce qu’il va bien?”
“Tu parles francais?” Dastien asked, drawing my attention back to him.
“Oui.” I touched his face. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry.” He turned away from me, going to get the last of the dishes. “When did you learn French?” he asked from the dining room.
I sighed, not understanding what was going on, but I guessed he was okay. I didn’t really need to understand him or what had just happened, but I wanted to.
Chris came to stand in the kitchen. “I’m curious about that, too. Your accent is really good.”
“Oh, umm…” The dishwasher was nearly full, so I poured dishwashing liquid into the sink and started washing the larger platters and dishes that were piled up. “I had a lot of free time when I was in the hospital after the accident, and I ended up watching some foreign films. Some of them were in French. Those were my favorites.” I piled the dishes on the drying rack as I went. “But really only because of the language. I didn’t understand a word of it, but I found myself playing them at night so that I could go to sleep. Something about the sound of it felt like home. It was comforting, and I really needed that.”
“That makes sense.” Cosette came to stand with Chris. “French is such a lovely language.”
“Yeah. It is.” I kept washing to keep busy, but my nerves were creeping in. I hoped I hadn’t upset Dastien somehow.
“Anyway, one day I was really bored, and I decided why not learn it. I got a computer program that teaches you in, like, four weeks, and it came with a link to do video chats with native speakers so that I could work on my accent.”
Dastien came back into the kitchen. His usually tanned skin looked a little pale.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded.
“Was my accent okay?”
“Oui. Parfait.”
If it was perfect, then why was he upset? “Did I say something wrong? I feel like I did something, but I don’t—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He brushed his fingertips down my cheek. “Everything is okay. I was just surprised that you knew French, but you spoke beautifully.” He pressed his lips together. It wasn’t a smile, but it still showed a hint of the dimples t
hat I was growing to love.
I smiled, hoping to ease some of the tension. “That’s a relief. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a while. The subscription ran out, and it seemed silly to renew once I was back in class. I didn’t really have time for it. I was sad that I might forget it, but…”
“I’d be happy to talk to you in French anytime you want.” He tucked a little bit of my hair behind my ear.
“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“It would be a treat.”
He moved past me and popped a tablet into the dishwasher. I watched him turn the machine on while I dried my hands, wondering if I should just go ahead and leave. Even if he said I hadn’t done anything wrong, I got the feeling that something was upsetting him.
Plus, I needed my meds before I started acting crazy. “I know I said I’d stay, but I probably should—”
Cosette stepped forward, hooking her arm in mine. The warm feeling slipped over me again, and I let her pull me into the living room.
“Cleanup is done, and that means we get final say on the movie while the boys bring us dessert,” she said. “Chris and I already narrowed it down to five.”