Chapter 29
“How are you feeling?”Charlotte whispers as she enters the bathroom quietly. I barely turn my head toward her, eyes tired but filled with pain. My response is a helpless shrug. Silence seems to be the most appropriate language, echoing the tranquility left in my heart since Lola passed away.
It”s the first time I have ever had to face death, especially of someone so dear. A part of me has evaporated, leaving behind a void that”s hard to fill. My dog, more than a pet, was my confidante, the guiding star in the dark corners of my life, my faithful companion. The unconditional love she gave me was my lifeline in life”s tumultuous ocean. My silent tears bear witness to it.
I feel powerless. I wish I could go back and enjoy a bit more time with Lola. Erase the moments I was too busy to play with her, to pamper her. I wish she could have left peacefully, without pain, far from any distress.
Facing the mirror, I try to restore a semblance of normality by applying my eyeliner. My hands tremble, betraying the storm raging within me. My nights are haunted by nightmares and the constant reminder of the last moments with my dog. Despite my efforts to reassure myself, there was nothing I could have done; guilt tightens around me like a vice.
Once again, the eyeliner slips from my hands, crashing into the sink.
“Damn!”
“Do you want me to help?” Charlotte suggests in a soft voice, her compassion palpable in her words. I sigh, gratefully nodding as she approaches and takes the eyeliner. Her gesture is filled with a sadness transcending words. Even when she delved into the darkest novels, a sparkle in her eyes, a glimmer showed her faith in a happy resolution. Today, the spark has given way to emptiness, a pain shared between us. Charlotte”s movements are meticulous, precise, as she applies the eyeliner for me. I silently watch, thankful for her unwavering support.
“Thank you,” I murmur to Manille as she gives me a comforting smile.
“The others are waiting downstairs. Everything is ready,” she says softly. She strokes my back, a silent embrace conveying all the comfort she can offer. I indicate she can go downstairs, and I”ll join them shortly. “Are you sure, Florence? I can stay.”
My friends worry, afraid my pain will completely overwhelm me. They want to protect me, but I have to show them I can stand, I can get through this ordeal.
“I know, but I need a few minutes alone. How long does it take to get to Toulouse?”
I”ve decided Lola”s final resting place will be in Toulouse, where it all began. I didn”t anticipate returning to my mother”s house so soon, but life has taken an unexpected turn. The loop is closing, and Lola brings me back to my home.
“About six hours.”
I nod, and she smiles slightly before closing the door. Now in the apartment, I go to my room and open the first drawer of my dresser, filled with photos of Lola. I sit on the bed and take the time to look at these snapshots, memories of the moments we shared.
Four days have passed since Lola”s departure. Four days of dull pain, unbearable absence. The apartment seems marked by her absence, a cruel reminder I can”t ignore. We”ve all donned black for this sunny day, a color symbolizing our shared mourning. My mind wanders to the recent past, to the moment when I had to break the sad news to my mother. It was so painful, Corentin took on the burden of informing her. I wasn”t in a state to do it. My friends are taking care of everything for me right now. Today”s proof: Corentin went to pick up Lola from the vet, Manille got flowers for the funeral, and Charlotte is taking care of me. I sigh as I put away the photos and retrieve Lola”s collar, which I push into my bag. When I join the others downstairs, I sit in the front next to Corentin. Seeing me, he gently strokes my cheek before starting the car. His fingers entwine with mine, and I silently thank him for his unwavering support.
A heavy, dark atmosphere hangs over us, enveloping us in sadness. Words seem suspended, unable to break the prevailing silence during the first half of the journey. Isolated in our thoughts, each of us tries to find a way to face this painful day. After three long hours, Corentin finally suggests we take a break to stretch our numb limbs and for him to regain some energy too. We stop at a rest area, while the girls head to the restroom, and Corentin fills up the gas tank. As for me, I enter the store to buy a bottle of water and a bag of Skittles. Then I sit in a corner, choosing a spot a bit away from other travelers who are also taking a break.
Suddenly, a sandwich and a bottle of water appear in front of me. Corentin sits beside me, and not a word is exchanged. Naturally, I snuggle against him, resting my head on his shoulder. His warmth envelops me, providing immediate comfort. It”s as if his arms are a refuge where I can seek shelter and feel safe.
We stay like this, silent, simply connected to each other, when I decide to turn my face toward his. He does the same, gently placing his lips on my forehead. My eyes focus on the dark circles under his, revealing the fatigue and heaviness he carries. I wonder how he manages to stay strong, even when the pain is so evident on his face.
“I”ll be the one driving later,” I announce, determined.
As a protective reflex, he refuses, arguing I need rest. I understand he”s worried about me, but it”s equally important he takes care of himself. We are both in this emotional storm, and he can”t set aside his own feelings.
“Corentin, it”s non-negotiable,” I whisper, brushing his cheek with my fingertips. “Besides, I”m the only one who can drive. Manille doesn”t have a license, and Charlotte…she”s afraid of driving since her accident.”
After a moment of hesitation, he eventually agrees, his eyes seeking mine in an intimate connection. He grabs my hand and places a tender kiss on my skin. His face is close to mine, and I expect him to seal this moment with a passionate kiss. Instead, his lips gently touch the tip of my nose. We gaze at each other, captivated by the intensity of our emotions, until Manille and Charlotte join us. The bond uniting us remains palpable in the air, waiting for the opportune moment to envelop us.
“I won”t enter a gas station restroom again,” Manille declares with disgust.
“I saw some people come out of there, and frankly, I don”t want to know where they live after seeing that. I need to wash my eyes with bleach,” Charlotte adds with a horrified expression.
Corentin offers them food and drink as they sit across from us. We share our meal in silence, a silent communion reflecting our shared thoughts. Then, Manille breaks the silence by sharing a surprising secret.
“You might be surprised, but I used to dislike Lola.”
We all turn our gaze toward her, astonished. I am particularly shocked because I had not suspected Manille didn”t like Lola. Her mischievous smile reveals her satisfaction in gaining our attention.
“I wasn”t a fan of dogs. When I was little, I got bitten by a dog, so I decided to avoid them.”
“Why didn”t you ever tell me?” I wonder, wide-eyed.
“I discovered your special relationship with élise about the same time, and I didn”t want to add more pressure. I thought I”d give Lola a chance, and I”m glad I did.”
A grateful smile forms on my lips. It”s élise who ensured I had Lola by my side. Without her, my life in the capital would have taken a different path.
“So now you like dogs?” I ask, curious.
“No, only Lola. Especially since she had quite the behind. How could I not fall in love with her?”
Charlotte rolls her eyes, exasperated.
“Manille, you”re one of a kind.”
“What? I appreciate nice behinds. And besides, that”s why I”m friends with you.”
Spontaneous laughter bursts out of me, quickly followed by the laughter of the others. Even Corentin smiles, offering a moment of lightness to this day filled with sadness. Anecdotes and jokes shared among friends dispel the dark clouds hanging over us.
Charlotte then speaks up, bringing with her a new anecdote about Lola.
“One day, I was walking Lola in a park. I threw a stick for her, and she went farther than expected. When I caught up with her, I saw my boyfriend at the time with another girl. I was shocked, and I don”t know what crossed her mind, but she barked and rushed toward him. He ended up falling into a puddle.”
“That”s how you found out your idiotic ex was cheating on you? Thankfully, Lola got rid of him for you. Our heroine, Lola.”
Charlotte took my hands in hers. “She was more perceptive than all of us. Lola wanted to spare us from the wrong people.”
“Sure, she even gave me a heads-up by peeing on me the first time I crashed at your place,” Corentin added, his hand gently caressing the back of my neck.
I turn to Corentin, surprised. I ask him for explanations because I find it hard to believe Lola could do such a thing. He enlightens me, revealing an episode Lola had kept well hidden from me.
“It was the day you moved in. We were watching Dirty Dancing, and I think you fell asleep a few minutes after the movie began. Lola came to me, showed me her teeth, then she peed on me. Clearly, it was a warning.”
Now, everything makes sense. I realize why Lola had barked at Lucas. She was taking care of us, me and the girls, like a loyal guardian.
“Lola was a genuine friend, a protector,” I let out. “She was loyal, and reliably there when we needed her.”
“I completely agree,” Manille adds.
“Absolutely,” Charlotte enthusiastically approves. “She was an integral part of our group.”
Corentin hugs me, planting a kiss on my temple. We linger for a few moments, savoring our meal before hitting the road again. Despite the lighter mood, we don”t forget this day will forever be etched in my heart as the end of an era.
* * *
In frontof my childhood home, a suffocating emotion tightens my throat as I see my mother on the porch. I park my car and rush to embrace my mom. Her presence has been sorely missed, and now I realize how much I should have come back here much sooner. My regrets weigh on my heart like a heavy burden. I had feared coming back here would stir up bad memories, but strangely, the happy moments spent with my mother and Lola come to mind.
My mother hugs me tightly, and when I finally pull back slightly, I notice she”s wearing a dark wax print dress. This image reminds me my mother, too, lost Lola, even if she didn”t fully tolerate the constant licking of the dog.
“My dear, I”m so sorry.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Her gaze remains filled with sadness for a few more moments, and I try to offer her a small smile, hoping it will be enough. Eventually, she hugs me again and plants a kiss on my forehead. Suddenly, I feel transported back to my childhood when everything was simpler and carefree.
“Hello, Anne.”
My mother turns to my friends, offering them a slight welcoming smile before inviting us inside. We spend a few minutes in the living room, reminiscing about memories of Lola. My loved ones try to find the words and gestures, soothing my pain. Their gentle and caring presence slowly begins to heal the void my dog left in my heart.
“It”s time,” my mother announces.
The funeral is a painful experience beyond words, and I find myself in tears in front of the freshly turned earth where Lola rests. It”s the most difficult thing I”ve ever experienced, and my heart aches in an unimaginable way. We buried her at the foot of a tree, hoping she would regenerate into flowers and leaves, experiencing a second life. I”m uncertain about the way it operates, but I choose to believe. Her memory will endure eternally.
I keep my eyes fixed on the ground as my mother tells us how Lola entered my life. The neighbor across the street had a litter of puppies and offered us the chance to adopt my little furball. My mother was hesitant at first, but the day I locked eyes with Lola, I knew it was her and me for life. This small ceremony does me good; it”s my farewell to my lifelong companion. With roses in hand, we move toward Lola”s final resting place. My friends and my mother lay down red roses, and when it”s my turn, Corentin approaches with a pink tulip.
“You”ll forever be in my heart, Lola,” he murmurs, placing the tulip.
He wipes away his tears, and it tugs at my heart. A faint smile forms on my lips, and I crouch down to place my tulip.
“Thank you for everything you brought me, my beauty. You were incredible, an amazing friend. My lifelong companion, I will miss you terribly.”
These are the last words I speak for her. The idea fills me with grief, and yet it also provides a certain peace. Under this majestic tree, Lola lives again in a new way. The afternoon spent with my mother does me good, despite not lingering, as the journey back to Paris awaits us.
After a light meal, we hit the road again. A few minutes pass before the girls fall asleep, leaving Corentin and me in a bubble of tranquility. His hand rests on my thigh, a comforting touch transcending word. His gaze remains focused on the road, and my attention turns to the moon, majestic and bright, seeming to watch over me benevolently. I let myself be carried away by this moment of serenity, where Corentin”s touch on my thigh feels like a physical connection with the tranquility the night and nature bring.
“How are you?”
The urge to pretend everything is fine briefly crosses my mind, but lying would be misleading. Instead, I turn to him, a faint smile lingering on my lips.
“Bad, but it will get better one day.”
Yes, one day. Because despite the overwhelming pain today, tomorrow my heart will bleed a little less, and so on, until the intensity diminishes, even if it remains a constant presence. I think of Lola and all the happy moments we shared. She was my loyal companion, and her memory will continue to shine in my heart despite her no longer being physically here.