Epilogue
FIVE YEARS LATER
Florence exitsthe car and waddles like a penguin on the ice. I smile at this sight, both touching and hilarious, and when she shoots me a dark look, fingers around the gas station restroom door handle, I can”t hold back. She disappears into the restroom, and I burst into genuine and sincere laughter, the kind that only this beautiful woman can provoke.
I catch my breath, unfasten my seatbelt, and emerge from my car to refuel. Pump in hand, I reminisce about all our shared memories. It wasn”t easy to conceal my feelings from her, and even more challenging to confess them, but since then, I”ve experienced unparalleled happiness. It”s as if Florence managed to unlock something in me, as if, in five years of love, she liberated me from my chains. I can”t express my gratitude enough.
I put the nozzle back and close the tank when my wonderful girlfriend returns, even more beautiful. I smile at her, and her face lights up in response. She is surrounded by a magnificent, almost unreal halo, endowed with all expectant mothers.
I help her settle into the vehicle and crouch down before pressing my lips to her rounded belly. It”s crazy, the love one can feel for a little being who hasn”t even been born yet. We often talk about the unconditional affection mothers have for their children, emphasizing the special bond they have with the life growing within them for nine months, sometimes forgetting a father can also feel such inexplicable yet unmatched feelings. I love them both so much, and I sincerely hope my plan for this weekend at her mother”s goes smoothly.
I take my place behind the wheel, shift into gear, and place my palm on her thigh, caressing it with my thumb. Florence places hers on top, a blissful smile on her radiant face, delighted to be back in her homeland. It does me a world of good to see her so happy.
Life hasn”t always been easy, both due to the numerous attempts to have a child and the anxiety slowly devouring Florence. With a lot of help from both her therapist and loved ones, she has been pulling through.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“Uh—I”m okay.”
I furrow my brows in response to her lie. “Florence.” I sigh to urge her to tell me the truth.
“I—I have to pee.”
“Again?” I exclaim in surprise. “But you came back from there.”
Blushing with embarrassment, she vigorously nods, and I discreetly chuckle because I find her so cute.
“That”s right, make fun of me! Meanwhile, it”s your fault I”m feeling like a whale ready to explode at any moment! Your daughter takes up so much space and presses on my bladder! I”m not to blame if she”s as bothersome as her dad,” she says, frustrated.
I amuse myself with her hormonal outburst and pouting expression, then slide my fingers over her belly, tenderly caressing it, my eyes still on the Texas road.
“Hush, Alexandra. Don”t be sad. Mom doesn”t mean it,” I address my daughter.
We chose this name in homage to my mother. I didn”t know her for long, but I know she was an exceptional woman. Florence taps my hands and crosses her arms under her chest, which has doubled in size, already prepared to nourish our baby, who should arrive in less than nine weeks.
“I can”t wait,” I murmur unconsciously.
My girlfriend struggles with her belt and leans in to kiss my cheek, her anger gone. She then runs her fingers through my hair as I savor the soothing touch.
“Me too.”
Another grin appears on my face as I pull into the driveway leading to my mother-in-law”s house, which greets us standing on their perfectly manicured porch. Stress suddenly assails me and my limbs tremble as I park under the nasally voice of the GPS, which points out the obvious.
“You”ve arrived at your destination.”
No kidding.
She goes downstairs to join her mother, and I watch Florence chatting happily with Anne. She”s beaming with happiness, which makes me feel even better. I”m certain I”ve made the right choice. She”s the woman of my life, the only one for me, forever.
Anne ushers us in, and I discover the table is already set. She”s spoiled us, as she typically does when we come to see her. Florence is more and more keen to visit her mother. They”re inseparable, especially since my darling told her about her father. It wasn”t easy for her to bring up the subject, but I know it was good for both of them to finally put their cards on the table.
After lunch, Florence returns to her childhood bedroom to rest up from the long drive. I take advantage of being alone with Anne to express my request.
“Are you all right, my boy? I know you”re not the talkative type, but you”ve been quiet tonight. Is there a problem?” she asks, her palm resting on my shoulder, tense with anxiety.
With sweaty hands, I close my eyes and inhale sharply, then exhale with great difficulty under the careful observation of my mother-in-law, who is kind enough to give me time to find my words.
“I”ve—I try, with a lump in my throat. I have a question for you, to ask you.”
“Corentin, you know you can ask me anything, so don”t stress and tell me what you need.”
“Florence,” I whispered, on the verge of imploding.
“What, Florence? Is there something wrong with my daughter or Alexandra?” she asks, slightly distressed.
After all we”ve been through, I can understand his concern.
“No, not at all. I wanted to tell you I love your daughter like crazy, and I”d do anything for her. For both of us,” I say with emotion, even as I”m trying to suppress it.
She smiles and pats me on the back before turning her gaze to mine, and as soon as she opens her lips to answer me, I drop the bomb, afraid if I don”t do it right away, I”ll bail.
“Would you give me her hand?”
My soon to be—hopefully—mother-in-law stops dead in her tracks. Mouth wide open, she freezes for a second or two as her eyes mist with hot tears.
“Lord, Corentin! Yes! Yes, I do! I mean I”m willing to let you marry her.” She giggles, hilarious at her own slip of the tongue.
I laughed shyly, equally amused, but above all relieved by her reaction.
“I couldn”t have hoped for a better man for my daughter, even if you did take your time,” she teases me as I reply with a thin, embarrassed chuckle. “I didn”t expect you to ask for her hand in marriage, I thought it was an old-fashioned tradition, but I”m delighted. To tell you the truth, I”m so happy I don”t think I can keep this information to myself! However, Corentin, be careful of my family”s heart. She loves you, and I don”t want her to suffer.”
“Don”t worry, Anne. I have no intention of leaving Florence. She”s under my skin.”
She smiles at me. “I believe you.”
* * *
Damn!I swear inwardly. It”s not like me to be so vulgar, but here, I can”t help it. Hands sweaty and trembling, I carry the basket containing our meal to the tree where Florence is working. I shake my head, dismayed to see her with papers between her fingers and her laptop set up on her belly where our daughter is growing.
And to think she”s supposed to be resting.
The more I advance, the faster my heart races until it”s on the verge of escaping from my painful chest. I place the wicker basket on the cushioned blanket, right next to my girlfriend, as she closes her cardboard file with a sharp snap, as if caught off guard.
I raise my eyebrows, surprised, while she smiles at me timidly. Her cheeks take on a beautiful rosy hue, but I can”t help but wonder what she”s hiding from me.
“What”s this?” I ask, pointing to the scattered sheets with my chin.
“A top-secret file,” she replies promptly.
I reach my hand, ready to grab it, but she”s faster and places it on the other side.
“It”s a couple who got married in Las Vegas, a bit on a whim. They want to officially celebrate their union in France with their friends and family. I can”t tell you more or show it to you. Professional secret.”
“Aren”t you supposed to relax?”
“This is the last one, I promise. Understand me, I couldn”t refuse.”
I raise an eyebrow and decide to let it go. We settle comfortably and eat simply, enjoying each other in the middle of this idyllic setting and the surrounding calm. I look up and see Lola”s necklace hanging on one of the branches. Despite the years, I still miss the furball, and I know especially Florence does. She has even forbidden herself from adopting a new pet.
Anne”s brownies devoured at lightning speed, I know it”s time for me to take action, yet I remain petrified.
What if she refuses to marry me? What if I scare her away? Damn!
“Ouch!” Florence exclaims, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“What”s happening?” I panic.
I slide closer to her and place my hand on her round belly, above hers, as my daughter delivers a second blow, causing a huge bump under the stretched skin of her mom, who winces in pain. Touched, I have to give it my all to contain the emotions threatening to overflow, as is often the case when Alexandra manifests herself like this, making Florence”s pregnancy even more real.
My girlfriend and I exchange smiles, then I kiss her gently before deciding to release her. I recall my stepmother”s numerous words of wisdom and allow my heart to guide me.
“I love you so much,” I confess passionately.
“I love you too.”
“I wanted to say thank you, my dear. Thank you for being you, thank you for loving me, thank you for carrying our child, thank you for everything.”
I can see she has no idea where I”m going with this, she wonders why I”m suddenly thanking her and acting so strangely, but I wanted to express my gratitude.
“You are the love of my life, Florence, and I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I hope to have the chance to grow old with you, raise our children, pamper our grandchildren, and eventually die beside you. You are the one and only, for today and all the days to come. Forever.”
Moved, she looks at me with so much love and tenderness my heart is about to give up on me, like all my other painfully tense organs. I don”t even know how I managed to stay calm and confess without stuttering, but now it”s done, I panic twice as much waiting for her response.
“I— Wow. I don”t have the words. It almost sounds like a marriage proposal,” she says while she giggles, a little embarrassed to mention it.
My heart suddenly stops beating, and I avert my eyes, embarrassed. I keep silent, my throat tightened, my stomach turned, and fear creeping into each fiber of my being.
Why can”t I bring myself to ask the question? Will you marry me? It”s not difficult, idiot!
Noticing the turmoil within me, Florence takes my head in her hands and searches my gaze, looking for the truth. I don”t pull away and let her scrutinize me. I know she won”t be long in grasping the information. After all, she is the only one in this world who understands me so well.
Suddenly, tears flood her red cheeks as my envelope contracts even more.
“You— It was—’’ she stammers, not finding a way to ask me.
I timidly nod, the knot in my stomach, when suddenly, she jumps on me, causing me to fall backward as I support her to prevent her from getting hurt. Lying under the big fruit tree, she showers me with a rain of kisses on my face, as if to reassure me about her answer.
I gently stroke her cheek and then slide my fingers into her hair, bringing her back to me to capture her soft lips. I kiss her slowly, sensually, then whisper in her ear:
“Will you marry me, my tulip?”