Behind the Facade

Chapter 2

Francis slowly opened his eyes. He felt awful. He was in some sort of hotel room. How he had come there, he had no clue. He just couldn't make out what on earth had transpired the previous day. He struggled very hard to remember something about a rather weird woman. He was getting scared.

Francis was having trouble remembering. He thought of his family. He thought of Kimberly. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his kids. He felt sorry. He wished he could go back. He wished he could change things.

Francis got out of bed. He walked to the window. He looked outside. The sun was rising. A new day was starting. Francis felt a little better. He thought of his life. He thought of his mistakes.

Francis turned and went back over to the bed. He sat down. He thought of Kimberly. He thought of the kids. He wanted to go home to see them. Feeling a little sad, he felt a pang of loneliness.

Francis slowly got up, pushing himself to rise from his seated position, and he began to find his way towards the door that stood before him. Slowly opening it, he stepped out into a wide and unknown world that stretched beyond. Full of confusion as to where he was going, he was driven by one strong, immediate need: to escape from where he was. He felt an overwhelming and urgent need to put a large distance between himself and the mysterious woman who remained in his mind, as well as to finally leave his painful past behind him once and for all.

Francis went on walking for a number of hours, lost in the vastness around him. He hardly knew where he was and how long he had been walking; he only knew that he had to move on. His feet heavy, he moved forward with thoughts of his family, especially Kimberly, and how much he yearned to be back home; that urge intensified with every step.

Francis spotted a hotel and made his way toward it. Upon entering, he approached the front desk. "I need a room," he said. The receptionist regarded him with concern. "Are you okay, sir?" Francis gave a nod. "I'm fine. I just need a room."

She handed him a key. Francis took it, entered the elevator, pressed the button, waited for it to stop, excited, walked to his room, opened the door, and entered.

Francis closed the door behind him, closing out the world for the first time in years. He finally got to his feet, slowly crossed the few feet of floor space in front of him, and dropped down onto the edge of the bed, buried beneath his thoughts—they came, rewinding the thread of his whole life, evaluating his family situation, and intensely wishing to return home into the arms of Kimberly and his children. And yet he also wondered, within the confusion swirling about in his brain, if it was possible at all to step one inch from his cell and out into the free air.

Francis stood up. He walked to the window. He looked outside. The sun was setting. The day was closing. Francis was in a somber mood. He was lonely, and did not know what he should do next or where to go.

Suddenly, there came a loud and unexpected knock on the door, which echoed through the silent space. In that instant, Francis's heart started racing fast, pounding against his chest as he became overwhelmed with uncertainty and anxiety about who could be standing on the other side. "Who is it?" Francis asked, his voice slightly trembling with fear. "It's me," replied a female voice from the other side of the door, her tone carrying some urgency. "I need to speak with you."

For a moment, Francis was unable to decide which way to go since his heart was racing in his chest and thumping severely with each beat. Even though the woman in front of him was a complete stranger to him and had unclear intentions, he knew deep down that he needed to summon the bravery to open the door. Whatever was behind it, he knew that he had to take a step forward and walk through, as if some invisible force was pushing him.

Francis took a deep breath. He opened the door. He looked at the woman. It was Kimberly. Francis's heart was pounding. He has no idea of what to say and what to do.

Kimberly looked at Francis. In addition to being angry, she was depressed. "Francis, where have you been?" she said. Francis was unsure on how to respond. He did not know how to explain.

Kimberly entered the room. She closed the door. She looked at Francis. She claimed to have been searching everywhere for you. "You were on my mind." Francis felt awful. He was sorry.

Francis went to Kimberly. He put his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry." Kimberly returned his embrace. "I'm just glad you're safe," she said.

But then Kimberly pulled back. She looked at Francis. She questioned, "What's going on?" "What's happening to us?" There was nothing Francis could say. He had no idea what to say.

Kimberly looked at Francis. She looked angry. She looked sad. She said, "Tell me the truth," "Explain the situation to me." Francis took a deep breath. He knew he had to tell her. He knew he had to explain.