By the time Delphine got the call, it had been two weeks since she had broken things off with Cosima in an attempt to keep her safe. Two weeks wasn't long enough for the pain to go away but it was also too long to come crawling back.
"Mrs. Cormier?" A thick French accent asked.
"Yes, Doctor Cormier," she corrected. She preferred to correct it to doctor rather than miss. At this point in her life, she thought she'd at least have some semblance of a love life. The mans mistake only made her heart ache for Cosima.
"I don't know how to tell you this, but there's been an accident..."
"An accident?" She asked, tilting her head.
"We have you listed as the next of kin for Pascal Cormier-"
"My father. Where is he? Let me speak to him!" She raised her voice, her tone shaky. She was always overprotective when it came to her father. Her mother died when she was only seven. Not only had Pascal raised her, he remained a widower, refusing to even glance at another woman. Since meeting Cosima, Delphine knew how he felt. She would never love another woman.
"He's been in an accident," the man repeated.
"I'm booking a ticket. I'll be in by tomorrow-"
"Doctor Cormier? Please-" the mans voice was timid. "Where is he?"
"His remains are already being shipped to you."
"His-" the lump formed in her throat over the word. She couldn't bring herself to say it.
"Your father is dead. I'm sorry. The lawyers will be in touch." Delphine hung up the phone, bending over and emptying the contents of her stomach in the Dyad parking lot.
She slid into her car, beginning to hyperventilate. She grabbed her phone, pulling up Cosima's name. Still, she couldn't bring herself to hit the dial button.
It wasn't fair to Cosima. She had ended it with her. And she didn't want Cosima, not like this. She didn't want Cosima to pity her, to be polite because she knew that Delphine was dying inside.
Instead, she called the only other person she could consider a friend.
"Delphine?" Scott's voice felt uncertain, almost edgy. She couldn't blame him. She had fired him in a fit of anger. She couldn't handle seeing Cosima's longtime friend. Even when they were together, she felt a sting of jealousy when it came to Scott. She knew Cosima's sexuality, but she knew how he felt. He felt the same as her and yet she turned to him when she didn't know where else to go. She trusted him in a way she didn't immediately trust Delphine. Cosima wasn't sexually attracted to Scott, but she had an intimate friendship with him that Delphine had always envied.
"Hello, Scott. I'm sorry to call so late-"
"-Don't worry. Being unemployed and all," he sighed.
"I just-"
"Delphine? I don't want to cut you off. We don't work together anymore and honestly, you always used to be nice..." the way he insinuated she was no longer nice made her tear up. Was that how people saw her? Was she truly the new Rachel? "...but Cosima is my best friend. In America, when a couple breaks up, the friends choose sides."
"And you choose Cosima," she let the words fall flat. "Thank you for clearing the air. However, I just wanted you to know I decided not to send out exit interviews. Dyad has a pretty good idea how the employment went," she said harshly.
"Oh. Okay then."
"Goodbye, Scott." She hung up, immediately bursting into tears. Her hands formed tiny fists as she punched into the steering wheel, making the horn blare sporadically. Her straightened blonde hair was slowly beginning to spiral back into her signature curls. Eventually, she broke down, panting as she tried to stop the tears.
She drove herself home, her mind going into auto pilot. She pulled up next to her luxurious apartment, not even remembering the drive home.
"orphelin," she muttered. She hated the word, but it was true. She had no mother. She had no father. She had a cell phone filled with contacts and not one person who she could rely on.
She threw her purse right inside the front door, stepping out of her heels. She her coat fall to the floor, the same with her keys. She had no motivation to tidy up. She had no motivation to eat dinner. She had no motivation to live anymore.