Chapter 25
The day is sunny,adding a touch of joy to my already cheerful mood. After a calm and restful week, I feel fully recharged. This break was necessary to leave behind my old demons. I spent my evenings at Corentin”s, devouring ice cream while watching Marvel movies. After a year of insistence, he finally agreed to embark on this cinematic marathon, and he loved it, as I knew he would.
These simple moments we share are a true gift. I feel revitalized, able to set aside the daily stress and pressures for a brief moment. I didn”t anticipate my relationship with Corentin could become so strong. Instinctively, I bring my fingers to my lips, thinking back to our past kisses.
The tension between us hasn”t completely disappeared, at least not on my side, but the bond uniting us is stronger than ever. Since I opened up to him, revealing my past, I feel lighter, more confident. He showed attention and listened. Contrary to my fears, he didn”t abandon me. On the contrary, he supported me, comforted me like no one else could.
Getting off the bus at Gare Montparnasse, I am welcomed by radiant sunshine. The cool wind slips under my pink floral dress, making the billowing sleeves and a few rebellious strands dance. After a year of assisting Cécile, I must admit the list of vendors she works with is immensely helpful today. I have to meet Clara and Naisha for a tasting of dishes to be featured in their wedding buffet.
I arrive slightly late to the reception. The room we enter exudes chic and warmth. Beige tablecloths cover carefully set tables, while a soft melody fills the space. Clara sees me and rushes into my arms for an affectionate hug. After being released, I greet Naisha with a smile. Fortunately, the atmosphere between us has not been affected after our meal at their place. I appreciate them a lot. Clara assured me she doesn”t hold it against Corentin for leaving. I don”t know if Corentin will ever want to talk about it, but I remain attentive if needed, as he was for me.
We take our seats, and as we wait for the dishes to make up the future tastings, I start the conversation.
“By the way, how did you two meet?”
I”m ashamed I didn”t ask this question earlier. Usually, it”s the first thing I want to know, but I was surprised to find only one fiancée during our first meeting. Then Corentin arrived, and with all that, I lost track.
Shame on me.
The two women look at each other affectionately, remembering the day it all began. Clara shines with stars in her eyes as she begins to tell.
“It was at the courthouse.”
I am stunned. I did not expect such an answer and would not have imagined this place could be the starting point for a love story. But who am I to judge? After all, I met my best friend in the elevator.
I let out a small internal laugh recalling the memory, then I return to the story of the future brides. I am captivated by their words, as absorbed as if it were the script of a TV series.
“What happened next?” I ask eagerly.
Now it”s Naisha”s turn to speak. “Joining the Durant family firm brought us closer. We were initially friends, but after long hours of discussions, our relationship evolved. It was me who finally invited her to dinner.”
Words fail me. The stories of these women enchant me, and I am hanging on their words, captivated by this unexpected love story taking root in such an unlikely place.
“Of course, I accepted right away,” Clara concludes with amusement. “And you? How did you meet your boyfriend? Is everything going well between you?”
Luckily, I am saved by the appearance of a waiter. He brings us the different pieces making up the appetizer: classic canapés, rillettes, sweet and savory verrines with such colorful aspects, it”s a spectacle for the eyes, and the unbeatable mini cheeseburgers.
The young man disappears for a moment, but he returns almost immediately, arms loaded with products self-service at the dinner buffet. A wide variety of high-quality meats and fish, both hot and cold, such as beef and salmon cooked and/or marinated in various ways, all spread out before us. The enticing aromas and appetizing colors welcome us, and I can”t help but feel a shiver of delight. The waiter quickly disappears so as not to disturb us, and not wanting the conversation about my supposed boyfriend to go off like it did with Corentin, I take control.
“We”re not together anymore.”
They don”t need to know he existed at no point.
“I”m sorry. We can seat you at the singles” table if you want to have fun?” Clara continues with a mischievous smile.
Naisha rolls her eyes before giving her a playful tap on the thigh.
“Baby—”
“What? She has the right to enjoy life and go home with a dessert. Unless you already have one.”
I can”t hide a smirk and clarify things.
“That won”t be necessary; I”ll come with Corentin.”
“Oh!” Clara exclaims.
She exchanges a knowing look with her future spouse, but neither adds anything. The subject concludes this way, and we resume the tasting, much to my delight. The couple seems satisfied for now, but before we can move on to desserts, Naisha gets up.
“I have to leave; I have an important appointment. Florence, I”m counting on you.”
“And me?” the blonde protests.
“I love you, but as gluttonous as you are, you would accept anything. With Florence by your side, I”m sure the buffet will be at least edible,” she teases.
Naisha interrupts any protest from her fiancée with a passionate kiss before hugging me and saying goodbye. After she leaves, the waiter returns to clear the table and bring us desserts. From delicious macarons to beautifully decorated cupcakes to petits fours, everything looks delicious. We also taste several samples to choose the flavors for the wedding cake.
Clara finishes her last bite of chocolate cake and then comes closer to me. “Florence, I”m so glad I met you.”
“Likewise,” I reply, touched. “I”m delighted to finally meet the eldest of the Thomas siblings.”
“You know, initially, I didn”t know what to think about you. I was convinced you didn”t exist.”
“I seem to have heard you say something like this during our first interview, but you did not explain why.”
Her face expresses an indescribable emotion, and despite her reservations, she responds with great seriousness. “Corentin is, as you know, someone reserved. He struggles to open up to others and make friends. When he talked about you, I was convinced you were an excuse he made up to avoid us. I was wrong, and thankfully so. During our introductions, I was as delighted as surprised to see you are as he described.”
“And how did he describe me exactly?” I ask curiously.
She searches for words for a few seconds, tapping her chin with her index finger. “In summary: a passionate, courageous woman with a big heart.”
Her declaration catches me off guard. I didn”t expect it. Clara, who has already moved on, doesn”t realize my emotional state, and I don”t want to dwell on it either. With the tasting over, there is no doubt for the future bride; her choice is made.
“I”m going to call a taxi,” Clara announces as we leave the caterers.
The blonde doesn”t wait for a reaction from me and orders a driver on the spot. In the car, Clara tells the driver to drop me off at my place first, which I refuse. She”s not drunk, but slightly tipsy, while I”m feeling great. I prefer her to be home first. I give her address, and when we arrive in front of her house, she hugs me.
“Have a good evening, Florence,” she finally wishes me.
“Likewise and see you soon.”
She presses her lips to my cheeks before getting out and going inside.
Upon arriving home, I am surprised to find Corentin in the living room, playing Mario Kart with my roommates. Now, this is an image I didn”t expect to ever see. Especially since there”s no yelling, however Manille is cursing at the bots overtaking her.
“Uh, what”s going on here?”
“I called Corentin to join us in a game. It”s better with more people, especially with Manille around,” Charlotte replies.
“Keep it up, librarian, and I”ll send you back to your sister”s.”
“I”m leaving anyway.”
“Then I”ll burn your books.”
Charlotte rolls her eyes, while Corentin remains impervious to their complaints. When he comes in first, to the great dismay of my roommates, the lawyer looks up at me and extends his hand, which I take. He pulls me toward him and sits me on his lap. The girls don”t seem to pay attention, too busy with their game.
“By the way, you have to show me around your house in London.”
He doesn”t have time to respond before Manille turns her head toward us.
“You have a house in London? Do you need a decorator? Because my door is wide open.”
“Why not, I could use a refresh in the decor.”
Manille is enthusiastic, despite securing the final position in the ranking. “If you ever require my services, I”ll offer you a discounted rate as a gesture of friendship.”
“Don”t worry, Manille, if I need changes at home, you”re the first person I”ll contact. And no need for a discount, your job deserves payment.”
“Thanks, Thomas, I won”t disappoint you. I think the girls and my clients can testify to my skills.”
“There”s no doubt about that, Manille. You”re amazing,” Charlotte exclaims.
“It”s true. By the way, did you know right away you would do this?”
Manille laughs, slightly uneasy. “Originally, I wanted to be a doctor. I was in my second year when I decided to stop.”
“What? How come I didn”t know about this?”
“I didn”t find the information important. I dropped out of my studies for interior design, it”s not something I”m proud of, even if I don”t regret my choice.”
“You should be proud, because without it, we would not have met.”
“That”s clear. A life without Florence is impossible. Isn”t it right, guys?”
Charlotte nods, and Corentin turns his head toward me, looking bright. His mouth brushes against my ear as he whispers these words.
“What would I be without you?”
“You would have had a calmer life. Isn”t it what you want?”
He seems to think before shaking his head. “No, a life without you is not what I want.”
I smile at him.
My friends play a few more rounds before Charlotte gets up to inform us she has to go to her sister”s for their last meal in France, as she is leaving for Martinique tomorrow. Manille takes advantage to slip away too, inventing a fake excuse to leave me alone with Corentin.
Once alone with my neighbor, I stand, determined.
“Tonight, we”re watching Desperate Housewives.”
“I”m ready.”
I go to the kitchen to get some snacks, but I furrow my brow when I see nothing. We forgot to do the groceries.
Damn it! I come back to the living room, dismayed.
“There”s nothing left. We have to go to the supermarket, get some stuff. Do you think it”ll be okay?”
Corentin checks his watch. “We can still do it, but we have to leave now.”
Without further ado, we find ourselves in a supermarket, filling my bag with snacks, but also groceries for the rest of the week. I hesitate between two candy packages — which is a dilemma — when I decide to take Maltesers, and something comes back to me.
“You forgot to tell me if you”d be willing to show me your house in London. Can I crash at your place? I want to go there.”
“I”ll show you around my home country.”
“You were born there? I”m surprised.”
“Yes, didn”t you know I”m English on my father”s side and French on my mother”s side?”
“Yes, I knew, but I didn”t know you were born there. How come you don”t have an accent when you speak French?”
He shrugs. “I don”t know. My father insisted we study in France since he found French more complicated than English. Might be why.”
I nod thoughtfully, giving Corentin the opportunity to pay. We thank the employees before leaving, eager to get home. The streets are lively, and people are strolling outside, much like us. The few restaurants with a terrace release their intoxicating scent, making my mouth water. I chat with Corentin about how Desperate Housewives is the series of my childhood and how my mother and I spent our evenings watching the episodes.
“Who”s your favorite character?”
I stand there, my mouth agape, unable to utter a single word. My entire body freezes, catching Corentin”s attention. He furrows his brows, his expression filled with concern and confusion as he glances at me. I”m torn between feeling like I”m living out my ultimate dream and facing my worst nightmare. I struggle to regain my composure, but it”s futile. I can”t seem to recover from the shock of what”s unfolding before my eyes.
With his hands on my shoulders, Corentin stands in front of me.
“Florence, what”s happening?”
I try to respond, but I”m rendered speechless. My gaze is fixed on my father, and I can”t break out of my trance. As seconds pass, my body stiffens. Corentin turns to understand what is holding my attention for so long. Similar to me, he realizes who is in front of me. Like me, his face turns pale. Witnessing him in this state makes me acknowledge all of this is undeniably real, and the blow I take in the stomach is so violent I wonder how I manage to stand.
“We need to leave before he sees us,” I whisper with a trembling heart.
“Okay. Let”s go.”
Unfortunately, it”s at this precise moment my father decides to turn his head in our direction. Like me, shock is evident on his face, but he quickly recovers. Without taking his eyes off me, his mouth forms a sentence that, despite the distance between us, I can perfectly read his lips. Stay where you are.
And he turns his back on me. His disdainful reaction toward me awakens something I thought was buried. I am angry. I am furious, but most of all, I am sad even after ten years he continues to be like this. So, annoyance flowing in my veins, I advance toward the man who once fled—my father. I walk faster than I thought because I won”t back down in front of him. Not again. I approach, but Corentin grabs my arm.
“Florence.”
“I won”t back down, Corentin. I want to understand what I lacked for him to stop loving me.”
He takes me by the shoulders and caresses my cheek tenderly.
“My tulip, there”s nothing you lacked justifying your father”s actions. You have nothing to blame yourself for, ever, because you are in no way responsible for his decision.”
I plunge my eyes into his, indecisive. He understands as much as I do what I want. I have this need to know, but on the other hand, I am scared to death. I am afraid of what he will tell me and how it will end. So he takes my hand and squeezes it, conveying everything I can”t say out loud. He is there for me, consistently and without judgment. I squeeze his hand, my throat tight, but he remains silent and follows me.
My choice is made.
Before we even reach him, my father raises his chin in our direction. His face expresses the anger I dared to disobey him and not stay in the place he considers to be mine. The features of his face become more neutral, but his gaze betrays the contempt he has for me. My father puts on a fake smile and steps forward to hug me.
“My Florence. I”m so glad to see you. Why didn”t you keep in touch?”
Corentin and I are left dumbfounded. I don”t know what my friend is thinking, but I”m sure he can feel my pain hitting me full force. The most terrible thing is not the way he treated me for months, making me feel like the worst piece of shit. Nor is it the fact that, a few seconds ago, he wanted me not to attempt to reappear in his life. No, the hardest and worst part is he can act so easily as if nothing happened and we were happy.
He behaves as if we haven”t seen each other in a short while. He even has the audacity to blame me for not keeping him updated, as if he hadn”t destroyed me while the only thing I did was exist.
I notice he is accompanied by a woman with fair skin and blond hair, who gazes at us with curiosity. My father turns to this woman, and I see the ring on her finger. He had given the same one to my mother. Slowly, I realize I was wrong about him.
“élodie, let me introduce you to Florence, my daughter. What a surprise to see you here.”
The woman smiles at me and extends her hand, which I shake automatically. She does the same with Corentin, who hasn”t said a word.
“So, Florence, how are you? It”s been a long time since we last saw each other. She lived in Toulouse with her mother, but it was a bit complicated between us, and she didn”t want me to see her,” he says to élodie. “I”m happy you”re finally here, too bad you run into us when we have to leave. But we”ll call each other for a coffee.”
His gaze is evasive, and I guess he is not at all comfortable in this situation, compared to what he pretends. He paints my mother as the villain of the story, and I understand his wife has no idea of the monster he is.
I imagine he hasn”t told her anything. What woman would want a man like him, learning the truth? Although, some claim to be in love with Ted Bundy, so ultimately, anything is possible.
“You talk about my mother as if it”s her fault you didn”t see me?”
“Florence, please, he says uncomfortably. We”ve already had this conversation.”
“What conversation? The one where you told me I was a mistake? You wanted me to disappear from your life? Oh wait, is it the incident where you locked me in a dark closet for hours? Is it the incident you”re referring to?”
Silence engulfs us as the world continues to turn. My father and I lock eyes, and I wonder where this courage comes from. I, who am used to shrinking and remaining a bystander in all situations, act and stand up for myself.
“You”re a monster, Rolland, and I hate you. It”s surprising how long I believed your opinion about me. Yet, you were mistaken, you didn”t truly know me or understand who I am.”
My father remains frozen, but in his eyes, I perceive a hint of emotion. He probably didn”t anticipate I would speak, given my usual silence. I release Corentin”s hand, feeling my own inner strength emerge. Yes, I am finally strong enough to confront the monster of my past.
“élodie, could you go to the car? I”ll be there in a moment.”
She tries to protest, but my father is uncompromising. They move away slightly, and from their hushed voices, I guess she is asking him if what I said is true. I don”t need to hear his response to realize he”s trying to downplay things, likely shifting all the blame onto my mother. She eventually walks away, leaving us alone as a trio. I stand tall, determined to face what will follow. I refuse to run or hide.
When my father turns to me, anger distorts his features, and the man who haunted my nightmares for more than ten years resurfaces. My heart pounds, but I meet his gaze with determination.
“Damn it, Florence, how is it possible for you to be so immature. It”s been ten years; grow up a bit. Can you imagine the image élodie will have of me now? I have no idea how I”m going to fix this,” he mutters.
The impact of his words hits me, and I feel like I”m losing strength in my legs. His reaction is painful, even if I had prepared for it.
“élodie helped me a lot after your mother left me. You say I”m horrible, but you know nothing about the pressure I was under and how difficult it was for me to stay at home taking care of you while your mother brought in the money. Do you realize the shame I had of playing the househusband? It wasn”t supposed to be my role. You blame me, but you don”t know what it”s like to raise a child. It”s a huge burden, and I didn”t want that. Life with you was not for me. I didn”t want a child, and I realized it too late. Do you understand? Yes, I shouldn”t have behaved this way, but understand me. Regardless, I can”t go back.”
The words hang in the air, and I remain speechless, absorbing the shock of his confession.
“Listen up and listen good! If you ever talk to her like that again, I swear, you”ll regret it for the rest of your days! I”m holding back everything I”ve got just to keep from tearing you apart right now!”
There is silence. A prolonged silence. Corentin”s fists are clenched, and I sense he is on the verge of losing his temper, and I refuse to let it happen. My hand rests on Corentin”s arm. He turns to me, and I hold his arm close to me to try to calm him down.
“Your mother is strong. Anyway, she wanted to keep you here instead of sending you to the country. Anne is doing well, she got over my departure. And it will be the same for you when you stop acting like a child.”
I feel Corentin tense again, ready to intervene, but I stop him. It”s up to me to handle this. I am no longer the vulnerable young girl. I have grown up, I have learned. And he only thinks about the effect it will have on his image. He doesn”t realize the pain I endured because of him, all the suffering I carried in silence.
“No!” I suddenly cry, making him jump.
My words burst out, laden with suppressed emotions. My voice is broken, and my rosy cheeks are streaked with tears flowing unrestrained.
“No, no, and no! You can”t shatter my childhood and expect me to overcome it! The persistent panic attacks, my fear of the dark, this perpetual sense of not measuring up. I will not overcome it. It”s impossible, as I will consistently feel inadequate. Perhaps one day, I”ll move forward without fear, but what you imposed on me will linger forever, engraved in my heart. You were my father! I needed you, and you deserted me. You used me to unload your incompetence and pain before discarding me as if I were nothing. So, I don”t care about your assertions. Whether I was a burden, a mistake, whether you were ashamed of me, I don”t care! Because you were my father above all, and I loved you. You could have disappeared from my life in any way possible, but no, you chose to act like garbage.”
I find myself voiceless, overwhelmed by a sob shaking my whole being. Yet, this marks the last time I will shed a tear for this man. I turn to Corentin, gently wiping away the tears flowing against my will.
“Shall we go?” I ask, my voice trembling.
His response is a faint smirk, stretching the corners of his lips. My blood pulses through my veins, my heart bleeds, but I am determined to stand strong. We continue on our way, and instinctively, Corentin”s hand finds mine. In his eyes, I read genuine pride, and at this moment, I understand Corentin is not only my neighbor, but he is also my soulmate.
It remains to be seen if this connection is friendly or something deeper.