Spring Kisses

Chapter 24

I”m notsurprised not to wake up in my sheets. Memories of the previous night immediately flood into my consciousness. The shared moans, our entwined bodies, our passionate kisses—everything replays in my mind.

My heart races at the sight of these fiery images. Butterflies in my stomach flutter, weaving a delicate web of desire. However, a wave of anxiety quickly engulfs me when I realize I”m alone in this room. I leave the bedroom, descending the stairs to head to the kitchen. No one is there. But as I think I am indeed alone, something in the dining room catches my eye. A pink tulip, accompanied by a note.

Good morning, my beautiful. I apologize for not being there when you wake up; I had an emergency at work. I”ll give you a call, I promise. Have a good day. C.

My phone suddenly rings, making me jump. I grab it hastily, hoping it”s Corentin, but Manille”s voice echoes at the other end of the line. My disappointment is palpable.

“Oh, it”s you.” I sigh.

“Charming. Tell me if you”re too busy for me.”

“No, it”s—never mind.”

I would have preferred to hear from Corentin at the moment. This little note reveals nothing about what he thinks, what he feels. I am in uncertainty, wondering if he enjoyed the night we shared. For me, it was wonderful, perfect even. But maybe he regrets it now, maybe he”s trying to avoid me.

“You did it?”

I have no desire to discuss this now. I know as soon as we meet, she will bombard me with questions. So, for now, I”ll enjoy this moment to catch my breath before facing her interrogation. And, as if it weren”t enough, Charlotte will then undergo her questioning.

“Florence, are you listening?”

“Yes, sorry, my thoughts were wandering.”

“You need to take a break. How about we meet?”

My first instinct is to refuse, but I know she”s right. I need to clear my mind a bit.

“Okay. Let”s meet at our usual café on the Champs-élysées at noon.”

“By the way, Florence, did you?—”

I hang up before she has time to insist. Taking a moment for myself might be the best thing to do. I use the opportunity to send a message to Corentin, and for once, I don”t get a response. I restrain my urge to bombard him with questions, avoiding the appearance of being overly curious. I don”t want to compel him to respond or make him feel guilty.

I take the time to savor my lunch calmly before returning to my apartment. There, I am alone. It”s the perfect opportunity to get ready without stress or agitation. Without pressure, I choose an outfit and apply light makeup. I appreciate this moment of tranquility.

Then, I immerse myself in my work. The day promises to be busy. I manage to take care of Lucas”s request, but now it”s Clara and Naisha”s wedding. I need to take care of their special day with precision, ensuring everything is impeccable. After having a cup of coffee to get back on track, I sit in front of my computer, diving into the flow of emails and preparations.

My next call is with the caterer to confirm a crucial appointment this week. I want Clara and Naisha to have the opportunity to taste the dishes before making a decision. When my clock rings to alert me about my appointment with Manille, I realize the morning is already coming to an end. I feel the weight of the well-filled day, but I am also grateful to have the opportunity to help this couple create memorable moments.

I put on a pair of sneakers, deciding to walk and enjoy the beautiful weather. I am the first to arrive. Alone in the crowded café during the lunch break for workers, I let my mind wander freely. On the way, I wondered for a long time if I should send a message to Corentin, but I finally gave up. I”m concerned he might interpret it as an indication I”m chasing him, desiring more. Or, even worse, he may perceive me as desperate. Despite this, I persistently check my phone, anticipating a signal from him. All I know about him is from Clara, who shared they”re in London. The ball in my stomach tightens, yet, momentarily, the server distracts me by delivering my order. I offer a warm smile and quietly sip my coffee.

I need to calm down.

Precisely as this moment unfolds, the door opens, unveiling Manille with her unwavering smile affixed to her lips. However, this expression fades gradually as she approaches me. Her bag hits the table in a careless fall, she calls a waiter to place an order, then she turns to me, looking concerned.

“What”s happening? You seem worried,” she comments with palpable concern in her voice.

The concern she expresses almost makes me feel guilty.

“I”m overthinking, as usual.”

“About what?”

Embarrassed, I absentmindedly play with my fingers. I wait for the waiter to place my cup before finally launching. “Corentin and I, we slept together.”

Manille will never cease to surprise me. I didn”t hope for her to jump for joy, but this apparent tranquility astonishes me. She simply nods, meeting my gaze.

“Doesn”t it shake you up more? I confessed about the affair between Corentin and me.”

“I get it, but what do you expect me to say? We”ve already discussed it, so it”s not a surprise. To be honest, I almost expected you not to succumb to temptation.”

“I know, but?—”

Manille”s eyebrows furrow slightly. “Do you regret it?”

I”m about to deny, but suddenly fall silent, mouth agape. In reality, I haven”t even had the time to ask myself the question. It was a magical moment, far beyond my expectations. Corentin was exceptionally gentle, attentive to my pleasure and well-being before considering his own. It”s sad to say, but it”s the first time a man has been so considerate toward me at this level. Before, it was something brutal, without real satisfaction.

I had imagined it would be like my first time, I wouldn”t feel anything special, but in the end, I had an orgasm. So why am I unable to react normally in front of my friend? It”s probably because I fear I”ve ruined our friendship with my actions. Manille senses my turmoil and gently places her hand on mine.

“Are you okay?”

“I”m scared, Manille.”

She doesn”t verbally respond but moves her chair closer to mine, enveloping me in a comforting embrace.

“Scared of what?”

“What if it was a mistake? Corentin is my friend, and we shouldn”t have crossed the line. I have a terrible fear of losing him. I feel horrible because I initiated this idea. I should have kept quiet.”

I rest my head on Manille”s reassuring shoulder. The idea I may have potentially ruined my relationship with Corentin terrifies me more than anything. At the time, the consequences didn”t seem so serious, but now they swirl in a dark corner of my mind.

“Florence, for once, stop overthinking.”

“How do you expect me to do that when I”ve probably messed everything up? Plus, I haven”t heard from him since. He promised to call me. Do you think I should contact him first? Or maybe drop by his workplace? To give him a little sign.”

She furrows her brows again. “Don”t talk nonsense! Tormenting yourself and blaming yourself constantly won”t lead you anywhere,” she tries to reassure me, gently stroking my back. “Stop putting pressure on yourself and wait to talk about it face to face. It”s the best thing to do, don”t try to track him down. I”m sure everything will be fine, Florence, there”s no reason to doubt.”

She hesitates for a moment, glancing at me, then averts her gaze, murmuring her question. “At least, was it good?”

“It was perfect!” I exclaim involuntarily.

A smile lights up her face.

“So, if I understand correctly, your Corentin lived up to expectations?”

I feel warmth spreading in my cheeks as my heart races in my chest.

“Better than that, he was incredible!”

“That”s all matters,” she whispers, reassured. “And now, you”ve succumbed to temptation, your friendship can resume as before.”

I”m convinced she”s right, but I can”t help but think back to what I felt in Corentin”s arms. I see our bodies sensually intertwining, our lips meeting, our hands discovering each other. Even our souls seemed to merge. An unexpected, almost surprising desire rekindles in my lower abdomen. I had said it wouldn”t happen again, and yet, in this moment, the urge to repeat it overwhelms me.

“You”re right. It won”t happen again,” I affirm, sitting up on my chair, as if challenging my boiling hormones.

The unconvincing tone of my voice immediately elicits a reaction from Manille. She scrutinizes me, examining me closely.

“You”re already thinking of doing it again, admit it?” she teases, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“Not at all,” I stammer, my face taking on the hue of a ripe tomato.

My friend, far from being fooled, raises an eyebrow, clasping her fingers as if in prayer. “Florence, I know you too well.”

“Okay, okay, I want to, I admit. You must be happy, you who were pushing me into his arms.”

“No, I”m not. I appreciate you pushing your limits, but not if it leaves you like this afterward. I care about your happiness and mental peace. Remember, you yourself said how much Corentin is your friend. I know the importance of your camaraderie. By going this far, I worry about your relationship. Given your situation, I”m afraid it may not hold up for long.”

“And you, you”re doing well, aren”t you?”

“”Sure, but I don”t have as close a relationship with my lovers as you do with Corentin. That”s why a slip-up might be forgivable once, but twice, it would get more complicated. The decision is yours; you have to choose what to do.”

A silence settles in. She”s right, I can”t afford to have such thoughts again. There must be no repeat. We are friends, plain and simple.

“You”re right. We succumbed to our attraction, it was amazing, and now we need to resume our friendship where we left off.”

Manille nods approvingly.

“Speaking of that, you forgot to give me all the juicy details,” she chuckles mischievously.

I had wondered why she hadn”t asked more questions. My mind replays our night with Corentin, prepared to share everything with my best friend. Suddenly, the truth hits me. A violent spasm runs through my body. My skin pales, shivers run through me. Manille”s brows furrow deeply, and her lips part slightly as she tilts her head, indicating her complete incomprehension.

“What”s wrong?”

My breath quickens, resonating to the erratic beat of my heart.

“We didn”t use protection.”

Manille”s eyes widen, her expression freezes, like mine.

This can”t be true, can it? After one time, we managed to forget the most crucial thing! How could this have escaped our attention?

A question pierces me: what if I get pregnant? What would we do? No, it”s unimaginable!

“Damn! You”re on birth control, at least?”

“No, it makes me sick every time, so I decided to stop.”

The prospect of pregnancy gives me goosebumps. I”m not ready for it, and I have no intention of starting with a meaningless night.

“Calm down, Florence. Mistakes happen. We”ll go to the pharmacy, you”ll take the morning-after pill, and everything will be fine, I promise.”

“If only I had realized it,” I lament as we leave the café.

Manille stops abruptly, her steps halting as she turns to face me. She places her hands firmly on my shoulders, her touch grounding yet urgent. With furrowed brows and a determined expression, she peers into my eyes, her gaze conveying a sense of seriousness and concern.

“Stop blaming yourself. There were two of you. Torturing yourself won”t help. What”s done is done. Now, you have to fix it by taking the little pill and talking to Corentin.”

I lift my head, overcome with growing panic.

“Why should I even bring up this topic with him?”

“To make sure there”s no risk of STDs or STIs. I”m not saying that”s the case, but it”s better to make sure. And then, in case the pill fails, talk with us. Charlotte and I are here for you if you need it.”

She approaches me, envelops me in her arms, then gently taps my back to transmit some of her courage.

“Everything will be fine, Florence. We”ll tackle your problems one by one. We start with the miracle pill, and then you clarify things with Corentin.”

Uncomfortable at the pharmacy, I awkwardly search for what I need, while Manille shops with tranquility. When I come out, blushing with embarrassment, Manille adds insult to injury.

“Here, catch,” exclaims Manille.

In a panic, I grab the box she tossed at me. I turn it around and discover a packet of condoms.

I furrow my brows. “You know well I have no intention of sleeping with Corentin again.”

“Whether it”s with him or not, it”s better to be safe than sorry. And next time, at least, you”ll be prepared and protected.”

I thank her, deciding to make the most of this day. Manille tried to distract me too, in vain. Well, at least, was my plan before Manille left for a meeting with the florist and my lovely future brides. Her enthusiasm is contagious, but my doubts persist.

As soon as we part ways, all my doubts come back to haunt me. When I get home, I embark on a thorough cleaning of the apartment to calm my nerves. Unfortunately, my roommates aren”t the messy type, so I set about preparing tonight”s dinner, trying to avoid checking my phone to see if I finally have a message from the lawyer. I opt for a simple menu with a chocolate cake for dessert. Once the table is set, I take the enchiladas out of the oven and place them on the dining room table. Their enticing smell fills the air, but I have no appetite. My mind is consumed by thoughts of Corentin. I anticipate seeing him, yet there”s an underlying fear.

Proud of how my dishes turned out, I send a photo to Manille and Charlotte. They congratulate me and remind me they can”t wait to come back to taste everything. I tidy up the kitchen, do the dishes, and play with Lola to avoid thinking too much. Without any distraction, my anxiety grows. Corentin”s silence weighs on me. I”m afraid he regrets it, or worse, he doesn”t want to talk to me anymore. Rocked by my doubts, I find myself chewing my nails to ease my stress. My heart is racing, panic paralyzes me. I ruined everything with this proposition, that”s for sure.

Yes, we had an agreement, but sex changes things. Nothing scares me more than the prospect of losing this man. He brings so much happiness to my daily life, the idea of losing him makes me suffer.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell rings, interrupting my dark thoughts. Wiping my hands on the apron, I walk to the door. There stands Corentin, dressed in a white shirt, as usual, and black pants. I scrutinize him, searching for any hint of his feelings. I analyze his face meticulously, recognizing deciphering Corentin has consistently been a challenge, unlike me. Finally, he lifts his gentle face to me, realizing something is wrong. Corentin approaches, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. I try to mask my apprehensions behind a forced smile, but he knows me too well to be fooled. He raises an eyebrow, troubled.

A shiver runs through my body when he plants a kiss on my forehead. I take advantage of this moment of tenderness to calm the frantic beating of my heart. When he steps back, however, I have only one desire: to wrap my arms around his waist to keep him close to me, feel his scent invade my senses. However, I let him move away, reluctantly.

Corentin doesn”t seem distant or annoyed. Everything seems fine. I want to cling to this idea, even as I keep coming back to his words. He said he would call me but didn”t. He must have forgotten, his day must have been busy, and he surely had other things on his mind.

“What”s wrong?”

“Nothing, everything”s fine.”

His gaze tells me he doesn”t believe me, but I can”t address the issue now. I don”t want him to feel attacked as soon as he walks through the door.

“It”s the first time I”ve cooked. I”m a bit afraid the girls won”t like it.”

Corentin scrutinizes me, searching for any sign of deception. I make an effort to smile to reassure him, to dispel the uncertainty clouding his features. He remains suspicious but chooses to give me the benefit of the doubt.

“I”m sure it will be delicious. But you can talk to me, I understand something is bothering you.”

I exhale an exasperated sigh, then blurt out what has been on my mind. “Yesterday, we didn”t use protection.”

In a fraction of a second, his face pales, and guilt is painted on his drawn features. I can”t exactly say what he”s thinking, but his reaction makes me feel miserable. I do my best to reassure him, to alleviate his torment.

“I took the morning-after pill, don”t worry. I was wondering?—”

I don”t need to finish my sentence; he understands where I”m coming from. Fortunately, he doesn”t seem to hold me accountable for this delicate question.

“I don”t have any STDs.”

I can”t help but sigh with relief.

“I”m sorry, Florence. I completely forgot, caught up in the moment.”

I can”t hide my sorrow at seeing him in this state, genuinely apologetic. My chest tightens, and a lump rises in my throat.

“It”s as much my fault. There’s two of us. I should have thought about it too.”

He furrows his brows, clearly disagreeing with me. “It was my role; I shouldn”t have forgotten. I didn”t react correctly, and I apologize for that.”

I place my hand on his to let him know I don”t hold it against him. My neighbor gently caresses my fingers before placing a chaste kiss. I notice his expression has changed, shifting from guilt to concern.

“Speaking of yesterday, are we okay? I wanted to call you, but I forgot my phone in my room.”

At these words, a hysterical laughter escapes me. I spent the whole day torturing my mind over his silence when it was only this! I need to learn to control my emotions. I practically had a meltdown for nothing, after all.

“You can”t imagine how relieved I am to hear you say that. With your silence, I thought you regretted it and didn”t want to talk to me anymore.”

He sighs slightly, shaking his head while intertwining our fingers.

“Why am I not surprised?” he murmurs to himself. “So, everything”s okay between us, right?” he asks again.

I respond with a nod, accompanied by my brightest smile. He glances around, approaches, and places his hand on my neck to draw me closer. In his green eyes, I think I perceive a deep fear.

“Do you have plans for tonight? I”m having dinner at my sister”s, and I thought you could come. My father will be there too.”

My heart skips a beat. He invited me to have dinner at his place, with his family. I needed Corentin to show me everything was okay between us, but I didn”t expect such a proposition. I think I could shout with joy, so moved am I. In fact, I am doing it. I even have my arms wrapped around Corentin, who holds me firmly against him.

“I suppose that”s a yes?” he asks once I”ve stopped shouting.

“Of course. I”m so happy. Is there a specific theme? My God, I should have gone to the hairdresser so I wouldn”t appear like a zombie. This is terrible!”

Corentin squeezes me tighter, resting his forehead against mine. “Calm down, no need to stress. And you”ve already met some members of my family.”

“And your father? I remember the state I was in when we met. I wanted to strangle him. Can you imagine? He must hate me.”

“Not at all. He likes you in his own way.”

His voice betrays a hint of sadness, but he quickly recovers. Which is not the case for me, as I am worried about him. On my side, my father is simply a shadow of the past. While his is still present and seems to continue haunting him.

“But are you sure everything will be fine? If necessary, I can come up with an excuse for us to stay with the girls.”

His hand caresses my neck. “Don”t worry about me. Everything will be fine, Florence, and you”ll be there.”

I release myself from Corentin”s embrace; he informs me he will pick me up in twenty minutes. I gather my hair into a ponytail and let my curls cascade down my back. I opt for a short beige dress with pink polka dots, with a flattering cut. I put on matching ballet flats and complete the outfit with a red handbag, making sure to take my inhaler. I hope it will be okay, anyway, I don”t have time to change my mind, as someone rings my doorbell. Corentin lays eyes on me, and I can see he likes my outfit. I”ve already gained Thomas”s approval.

In his car, I watch the cobblestone streets of the 7th arrondissement of Paris unfold before me, eyes filled with wonder. Through the window, I can see a perfect fusion of history and modernity, characteristic of this elegant district. The Haussmannian buildings, with adorned facades and wrought-iron balconies, exude timeless elegance. The narrow streets emit an authentic charm, evoking the classical Paris I have imagined. The trees lining the sidewalks cast a soft shadow on the pavement, creating a peaceful and welcoming atmosphere.

At every street corner, I discover quaint cafes and chic boutiques. Elegantly dressed passersby stroll leisurely, adding a touch of life to this serene atmosphere. Storefronts reveal refined products and works of art, testifying to the artistic and sophisticated character of the neighborhood. When we arrive, I am struck by the elegant facade of the building. The artistic details and architectural elements reflect a timeless charm. The spacious windows and wrought-iron balconies add a touch of sophistication, while the top of the building brings a distinctive touch. It is a place steeped in discreet opulence and elegance.

As soon as I step into this exceptional Parisian apartment, I am instantly immersed in a world of beauty and refinement. The dim light filtering through the large windows caresses the luxurious residence. I stand there, marveling, lingering on the exquisite details surrounding me. Clara and Naisha truly live in a sumptuous place.

I warmly greet Edward and Jackie. The love between them is palpable. The way they gaze at each other says a lot about their growing connection. Yet, unexpectedly, I”m not the only one noticing the spark uniting them. Corentin approaches me.

“It seems they”ve finally decided to give their story a chance.”

“They”re so adorable.”

Corentin opens his mouth to speak, but he”s interrupted by a cheerful cry.

“Florence!”

Clara”s voice startles me as she approaches with a radiant smile. Naisha follows closely, equally enthusiastic.

“I”m so glad you”re here. Seeing a face other than his grumpy one will do me a world of good.”

Corentin rolls his eyes at his sister”s words and decides to respond in his own way. “Hello, Naisha. Thankfully, you”re here. Otherwise, with Clara, the evening would have been quite long.”

His face remains impassive, but I can see a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Undoubtedly, they love each other deeply but also know how to tease one another. It”s touching. A bit like Manille and Charlotte, who exchange barbs from dawn but with an unbreakable friendship.

Clara sticks her tongue out at Corentin. I appreciate seeing this side of Clara; it contrasts with the stereotypical image I have of lawyers. It must be said, Corentin is rather reserved, fitting the idea I have of a lawyer, while Clara is the complete opposite. She is straightforward, enjoying life without constraints. I suppose at work, she is a serious and efficient professional.

“And there”s Jackie. Do you think everything will go well?” Naisha asks, genuinely concerned.

Corentin shrugs, but before he can begin his sentence, Clara”s fingers tighten around my arm, causing me to wince. I glance over to see Corentin and Naisha looking at us with raised eyebrows and widened eyes, clearly taken aback by Clara”s sudden action.

“Florence, you absolutely have to see the decor. Manille came recently and left her mark on everything. Since she”s so incredibly talented, I entrusted her with the interior decoration.”

In this exceptional Parisian apartment, the brightly colored wallpaper adorning the walls presents itself as a work of art in its own right. The patterns, the shades, each section tells a unique story, creating a background both energetic and calming. I approach, scrutinizing complex details harmoniously merging to form a visual symphony.

Yet, what touches me to the core are the signs of support for the LGBT community adorning the apartment. Flags in vibrant colors are elegantly hung on the walls, offering a warm and inclusive reminder of the love and diversity coloring their existence. Each object and element seems to come together to celebrate acceptance and equality, creating a vibrant space of tolerance and understanding.

Climbing the elegant staircase leading to the upper floor, I discover a sumptuous bedroom. The king-size bed is draped in silky satin and adorned with cushions in rich tones. Velvet curtains frame the windows, offering an enchanting view of the rooftops of Paris. An artistic painting, a symbol of love and diversity, proudly sits above the bed, a constant reminder of the values permeating this space.

Descending the stairs and entering the living room, I am captivated by the glass table of rare elegance, majestically placed in the center. The transparency of the glass reveals the finesse of the handwoven carpet. The delicate curves of the precious metal feet add an artistic touch to an already magnificent space. This apartment resonates like an anthem to love and respect for the world around us.

“It”s simply beautiful.”

“Thank you, but Corentin isn”t a fan. He prefers more subdued tones. You should see his decoration.”

“I already have.”

“For the one in Paris, but not his house in London. It”s even more splendid there.”

Corentin has a house in London? This revelation takes my breath away. I assumed he stayed at a hotel, frequently juggling between the two countries. Taking advantage of Clara”s attention on Naisha, Edward, and Jackie, I discreetly approach my neighbor. I slip to his side and gently tug on his arm to get his attention. I slide to his side, my heart pounding, and gently pull on his arm to get his attention, our bodies brushing almost deliberately.

“I didn”t know you had a house in London,” I murmur, my eyes diving deep into his.

“Clara told you, didn”t she?”

I nod, my thoughts swirling.

“I spent most of my time there, as I only came to Paris for a few days when trials demanded it.”

“If it”s more spacious than your apartment in Paris, why not stay there? Do you miss Paris?”

“No, I was planning to go back to London when we met.”

I furrow my brows. He refrained from informing me about this intentionally. Fortunately, he didn”t follow through.

“So, what ultimately kept you here?”

He doesn”t answer immediately, and I”m about to give up when he leans in. A shiver runs through me at the breath of his breathing a few millimeters from my ear. He murmurs in a barely audible voice. “You.”

Once again, my eyes widen, but before anyone can intervene, Clara calls us to the table. Corentin puts his hand on my waist and guides me to the dining room, while I try to understand the impact of his words. Am I the reason Corentin stays in Paris? It”s undoubtedly the most adorable thing I”ve ever heard.

I feel the warmth of Corentin”s hand on my waist as he guides me to the dining room. Each of his gestures is imbued with this tension between us, a magnetic attraction we can no longer ignore.

We take our seats, and I savor the ambient tranquility. The meal proceeds peacefully and smoothly. Clara and I discuss her wedding, while Jackie brings up a range of conversation topics. Corentin”s calm silence doesn”t surprise me. His attention remains focused on his plate. The delicious scents of the dish caress my nostrils, reminding me how true it is I haven”t eaten in a while.

“How”s work going, Corentin?” Jackie asks lightly.

“It”s quite busy at the moment, but I”m trying to stay present.”

Listening to these words, Edward makes a small disdainful noise, turning his gaze away. His attitude doesn”t go unnoticed. While Clara bursts into laughter to lighten the atmosphere, Corentin freezes. Naisha wears a polite smile to maintain harmony, but I sense she feels what Jackie feels, expressed by the dark look she gives the patriarch. My hand rests on my neighbor”s thigh, and we move on to the table. Tension is palpable as we savor our dishes. I must be slow to relax because I still can”t grasp the reason for this atmosphere.

Sure, Edward hasn”t said a word since his concise intervention, but he still appears to me as a rather pleasant man. I mainly have the image of the one I almost strangled at Corentin”s. However, I can”t ignore the tense atmosphere between my friend and Edward. As for Jackie, she seems under pressure. Her smile is forced, she strives to maintain a semblance of lightness. I catch her throwing pleading glances at Edward.

The other women around the table try to liven up the atmosphere, while the men remain in the background. Corentin puts a warm arm around my shoulders, and I snuggle against him. When Clara mentions she is considering celebrating her wedding at the town hall first, Edward proudly comments she has found the love of her life. I can”t help but smile hearing all the sincere emotion in his voice.

I wish my father were proud of me too.

Edward slides his hand into his jacket pocket and pulls out a black velvet box, which he hands to Clara. She takes it, an expression of astonishment appearing on her face.

“What is it?”

“A little gift to celebrate your union with Naisha.”

His voice is calm, serene. “I”ve had high expectations for my child,” he begins, looking at the couple.

Slightly furrowing my brows, I can”t help but note his wording, as if he only had one child. But maybe I”m reading too much into it.

“You”ve consistently been a source of pride, sweetheart. You”ve avoided reckless risks, and you”ve been vigilant in your associations. Clara, you”ve followed the right path, not a single misstep.”

“Me neither,” Corentin murmurs to me, loud enough for only me to hear.

Maybe I”m not trying to see problems where there are none, after all.

Edward is the only one rejoicing, ignoring Jackie”s signals. I also notice the discomfort is shared, and Clara”s smile has disappeared. She lowers her eyes to her plate, playing with her food. I feel the same awkwardness, unable to face all of this.

“It has been an honor for me to watch you grow and become such an exceptional woman. Whether in your personal or professional life, you”ve consistently progressed. Naisha in the family is an honor.”

Despite the beauty of his speech, I feel uneasy around this table. There”s emotion in his voice, but he speaks as if Clara were his only child. Edward sees only his daughter and Naisha; the rest seems to be of no importance to him.

“When you graduated in law, I was delighted to see you follow the family tradition. You”ve been an effective lawyer throughout. I”m proud of you, my darling. Your mother would be so proud of the person you”ve become.”

I hear Corentin sigh, then he stands up, his chair creaking under his weight, leaving the table. The door to the apartment slams, announcing his departure. All the guests turn to the now-empty seat he occupied a few seconds ago. I quickly apologize and stand up as well, under Jackie”s benevolent gaze.

“I think it”s time to leave. Thank you again for tonight.”

Before I go in search of Corentin, I hear the conversation between Jackie and Edward.

“Nice speech,” Jackie comments to Edward when he sits back down, seeming not to understand what”s happening. “I told you to make an effort with the kid.”

“It was a joke,” Edward retorts before giving a smile to Jackie, who is anything but pleased.

“Strange joke,” she replies coldly. “If you don”t make an effort, Ed, you”re certainly not going to improve things between you two.”

I rush hastily in search of Corentin. Fortunately, I find him leaning against his car, waiting. When he looks up at the echo of the door slamming, I perceive the marked worry on his face. As I approach, I notice him running a nervous hand through his hair.

“I”m sorry for my fa?—”

His words fade as I instinctively snuggle against him. His head finds refuge in the hollow of my neck. He gently embraces me and lifts me with a benevolent gentleness, allowing me to place my legs around him. My dress has slightly lifted on my hips, revealing the elastic of my thong, but Corentin carefully readjusts it to cover me. I tenderly press my cheek against his T-shirt, letting my bare legs mingle with his.

Then, I finally detach myself gently, under the starry sky seeming to be the silent witness of our exchange.

“Don’t apologize, Corentin, I don’t hold it against you.”

That evening, I realize with a new keenness Corentin, and I share a common issue, fathers who didn’t live up to their duties. Yet, while mine completely abandoned this role, his awkwardly tries to make amends for his mistakes.