The Paris Fiancé || Santos & Guichon

34.

"They aren't going to say 'I told you so', Bela."

"You don't know my friends very well," Bela laughed running her fingers through her hair, "Tessa's favourite phrase is 'I told you so'."

"They're just worried about you," Amaury repeated, "have you talked to any of Neymar's family?"

"No. I blocked their numbers. I'm just not in the mood the hear anything any of them have to say."

"Understandable," he nodded as he pulled into the parking lot.

Bela's heart started racing when she saw Amelia, Tess, and Lacey waiting out front. Marco Veratti, Charles, Marco Reus, and Raphael were also standing there. She hadn't expected to see all of them as well. She looked over at Amaury curiously.

"I swear I didn't know they were bringing people," Amaury held his hands up before taking the keys out of the ignition.

"I trust you," she shrugged.

She quickly pulled her hair away from her face and secured it with a clip. She also grabbed her long sleeve crop out of her dance bag. It was quite a bit windier than she had expected. She shivered slightly.

"Here," Amaury wrapped his leather jacket around her shoulders.

"But you'll be cold," Bela protested.

"I have a hoodie," he mused grabbing the other jacket.

"If you're sure," she bit her lip.

"Positive. It looks good on you."

"Thank you, Amaury."

"Of course," he squeezed her hand before shutting the car door and locking it.

Bela sighed when she saw paparazzi swerving into the parking lot. They were following another car that whipped into a parking spot, nearly hitting a couple of other cars. She squinted a little and groaned when she recognised Neymar's white Audi whipping in. She grabbed on to Amaury's arm. He followed her gaze and instantly frowned.

"Is that-"

"Neymar," she groaned with a small nod.

"Great," he muttered.

"Iza! Izabela!" Neymar started running across the  parking lot towards them.

"Ignore him," Amaury whispered as they kept waking towards her friends.

"Izabela!" Neymar grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Ow! Let go of me!" Bela yanked her arm back and cowered away from her ex-fiancé.

Amaury immediately pushed him back and wrapped an arm around her shoulders "hands off, Neymar!"

"Fuck off, Guichon. This doesn't involve you," Neymar hissed, "Iza, we need to talk."

"I don't want to. What part of being blocked everywhere makes you think we should talk?" Izabela forced herself to look him in the eyes for the first time since she left.

"Come on, Bela," Amaury shuffled her towards their friends.

"Her name is Iza, dipshit," Neymar snarled, "and I'm going to talk to her!"

"Leave her alone," Amaury stood in front Izabela while Marco Verratti, Charles, and Raphael hurried down the stairs towards them.

"Neymar, leave," Marco Verratti glared at his teammate stepping in front of her and Amaury.

"I'm going to talk to Iza," Neymar said.

"Like hell you are," Raphael shook his head.

"Just go. You're causing a scene," Charles said more forcefully.

Amaury turned Izabela away from the arguing men. He walked with her towards Amelia and Tessa. He kept a tight arm around her shoulders.  Bela covered her ears and tried to fight back the tears as she heard Neymar yelling.

"Come here," Amelia pulled her in for a hug.

"Let's go inside," Amaury said, "can we get a private room?"

"I'll check," Tessa hurried ahead.

"Sinto," Bela mumbled.

"Don't apologise," Amaury squeezed her shoulder as they walked up the steps.

Izabela couldn't help but look over her shoulder. Marco, Charles, and Raphael were still standing there with Neymar in front. Neymar looked angry but eventually turned away towards his car. The paparazzi were snapping photos the entire time. She groaned knowing this would be on the front cover of gossip pages all over. She looked forward as they went up the steps. Tessa came back outside.

"We have a private room in the back."

"Perfect. We're almost there, Bela," he murmured in her ear.

"Merci," she whispered.

Reus, Charles, Raphael, Lacey, Verratti, Amelia, and Tessa all surrounded her and Amaury as they walked to the private room. She could hear whispers and saw everyone waiting to be seated staring at her. Bela's face flushed red. They were making quite the scene.

"Bosta," she muttered.

"Hm?" Amaury looked down at her.

"Uh. Merde," she looked up at him.

"Shit what?" Raphael asked.

"Everyone is staring."

"Let them. You're going through a lot," Amaury soothed.

Bela nodded and took a shaky breath as they walked into their private room. She turned and tightly hugged Amaury before she began to sob into his chest. She felt more arms around them as everyone tried to comfort her.

"You don't deserve this, Bela," Amaury murmured as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Thanks," she whispered, "can I get some water please?"

"Of course," Raphael said.

The group hug broke up. Amaury lead her over to the table and pulled her chair out. Once she was set, he sat down next to her. He took her hand and squeezed it. She closed her eyes and tried to even her breathing. Bela leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Here you go, Iza," Raphael came back over with a glass of water with lemon

"Thank you so much," she smiled and took a sip.

"Of course. I'm glad to see you. I've been worried about you."

"I'm sorry. I just haven't been in the headspace," she looked down in the glass.

"Don't apologise. We completely understand. We're just glad to finally see you," Amelia smiled, "we've missed you."