Foreign Love (An International Sports Romance) (Love in Shades) by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

kiss her quickly on both cheeks. “ Merci , Geneviève. You’re an angel.” Her face turns horribly red and she fights back a smile.
     
    She hugs herself against the doorframe and watches me run back toward the elevator, suitcase in tow. “ Bonne chance, Lucien ,” she shouts after me as the elevator doors close.

Chapter 32
     
    Julia
     
     
    “Willow?”
     
    “Huh?”
     
    “Can you come sit down please? You’re acting shady as fuck and it’s starting to trip me out.”
     
    I glance around at the dozen or so people sitting in the brightly-lit waiting room. None of us looks particularly excited to be here. But for me, at least, the physiotherapy is mandatory after my surgery. I have months of recovery ahead of me. That makes me edgy enough without Willow acting like a nervous wreck and irking me out.
     
    She gives me a tense laugh as she moves away from the street-facing window and sinks into the tacky, orange plastic chair next to me. But her eyes are still riveted to the door and she won’t stop biting her fingernails.
     
    “What the fuck is wrong with you, Willie? You’re sort of acting like a freak,” I say as I swat her hand away from her mouth.
     
    “Uh.” Her eyes dart to me and then to the door as it slowly swings open. “Don’t hate me, okay?” She slides out of her chair and moves quickly towards the man stepping into the physiotherapy clinic.
     
    He wears a black t-shirt and black jeans hug his sculpted ass. A black trucker cap is pulled low over his eyes. But it does nothing to cover his sexy, scruffy beard…It reminds me of Lucien’s beard.
     
    Wait…What?
     
    Is that…
     
    “Lucien?”
     
    The pure shock of seeing him here makes me bounce to my feet.
     
    “Julia…” he breathes my name as he approaches me quickly, wrapping me snug in his arms. “Ah, Julia… Poupée …” Willow stands off at a distance, an expectant look on her traitorous face.
     
    My heart trips and stumbles in my chest as he kisses me affectionately on both cheeks then buries his head in my hair, his hands slicking up and down my sides. I look around, slightly embarrassed. We’re attracting the stares of every other person in the waiting room.
     
    He pulls away to look in my eyes and notices my discomfort. “ Viens ,” he says simply as he takes my hand and leads me to an empty, sterile-looking physiotherapy room.
     
    I swallow thickly as he closes the door behind him.
     
    “You have a wife ,” I shoot accusatorily before he can get a word out.
     
    He sticks his hands out defensively in front of him. “I know this looks bad, Julia. But I can explain.”
     
    I back away from him, perching on the edge of the adjustable treatment bed in the center of the room. “There’s nothing to explain, Lucien. Anaïs showed me a picture from your wedding. She had a key to your apartment. What else is there to say?”
     
    “Just let me speak,” he insists, his eyes pleading.
     
    I have half a mind to tell him to go to hell. He doesn’t deserve a chance to explain. But I stay quiet, watching him lean against the counter beside the sink and gather his thoughts. I see misery etched on his face. He can’t explain this away.
     
    He has a wife for god’s sake.
     
    I think back to all the meals we shared in her kitchen, all the laughs we shared on her couch, all the nights that we made love in her bed.
     
    What Lucien did to me – to her – is simply unforgivable.
     
    “Anaïs and I have not been in a real relationship for a long time, Julia. For years. I used to love her very much. But maybe she never loved me. I do not think she ever loved me.”
     
    I huff. “But you married her, Lucien. You gave her a ring and you made vows to her.” It’s incredible to me that he would try to excuse his behavior by blaming it on Anaïs. “Take responsibility for what you did.”
     
    He’s shaking his head, reaching his hands out to me as he closes the space between us. “It’s not so simple,” he