Chapter 3
Over the weeks, Clara had started organizing her evenings around Thomas without quite admitting it to herself.
She still worked each day at the same firm, dealing with the same clients and enduring the same endless meetings, but her life now had another dimension—secret and almost unreal.
There was her official life, the one she could discuss freely, and then there were these meetings no one knew about.
Every time she left her apartment to see Thomas, she felt that familiar flutter in her chest, the same one she remembered from her first nights doing this.
Yet the fear had faded. She knew now how she wanted to be treated, knew she could say no, and had learned to respect her own boundaries.
What troubled her now wasn’t the situation itself, but the attachment that was starting to grow.
Thomas texted her regularly, without ever flooding her with messages.
He could go a whole day without reaching out, then send a simple sentence that brightened her evening.
Clara had caught herself waiting for these messages.
She already knew some of his habits: he worked long hours, liked to walk in the evenings when he needed to think, and hated noisy restaurants.
She also knew he had a sister he was close with, that he’d lived abroad for several years, and that he’d ended an important relationship because he hadn’t known how to make space for someone else in his life.
These details weren’t extraordinary, but they gradually transformed the man she’d met on the street into a real person—complex and endearing.
One Friday, as she was wrapping up for the day, her phone buzzed.
“Are you free tonight?”
Clara smiled immediately.
“Yes. Why?”
“I’d like to take you somewhere before our usual meeting.”
She stared at the message for a few seconds.
“What kind of place?”
“A little brasserie by the canal. Nothing too fancy.”
“Sounds good.”
“Seven o’clock then?”
“Okay.”
She tucked her phone away and finished her work with unusual impatience.
At six-thirty, she left the office, hurried home, and opened her closet.
For several minutes, she wavered between outfits.
She finally settled on an elegant but understated dress paired with a light jacket.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered why she cared so much about how she looked.
She could have told herself she simply wanted to be attractive for her client.
But deep down, she knew that wasn’t the whole truth anymore.
She wanted to please Thomas. Not just as a client.
Him, personally. The thought unsettled her.
When she arrived at the canal, she spotted him right away. He was wearing a dark jacket and seemed to be scanning for someone. The moment he saw her, his face lit up.
“You look beautiful.”
Clara felt her cheeks flush.
“Thank you.”
“I hope you didn’t wait too long.”
“No.”
They started walking toward the brasserie.
The evening was mild and the waterfront was lively.
Couples strolled past, groups of friends filled the outdoor terraces, and the lights from the buildings shimmered on the water.
Clara savored the feeling of normalcy. For a few hours, they could almost pass for any other couple.
Once they were seated, Thomas asked how her week had been.
“Same as always. Too much work, not enough sleep.”
“You should take a vacation.”
“Are you offering to whisk me away?”
He smiled.
“Why not?”
Clara studied him.
“Are you serious?”
“Not entirely.”
She dropped her gaze to her glass.
“It would be complicated.”
“I know.”
“And besides, we have this... unusual arrangement.”
“I know that too.”
She looked up.
“Do you ever think about it?”
“About what?”
“About what we are.”
Thomas paused to consider.
“All the time.”
She hadn’t expected that.
“And what do you conclude?”
“That I don’t really know.”
Clara smiled.
“That’s reassuring.”
“Why?”
“Because neither do I.”
They laughed softly.
After dinner, they walked for a long while. Thomas didn’t act like a man eager to get to a hotel room. He seemed to genuinely enjoy her company. This kind of attention was becoming one of the things Clara treasured most.
When they reached the hotel, Thomas stopped.
“Do you still want to go in?”
Clara felt her stomach tighten with emotion.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
They went up together. In the room, their closeness immediately changed the atmosphere. Their conversation grew softer, their gazes more lingering. Thomas moved closer and gently caressed her cheek. Clara closed her eyes for a moment before resting her hand on his.
Their kiss was long and tender. Clara felt that now-familiar mixture of desire and trust. She moved closer to him, forgetting for a few moments everything beyond this room. Their intimacy remained gentle and tender, marked more by affectionate gestures and glances than by words.
Later, they lay side by side in silence. Clara stared at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?”
“You.”
She turned her head toward him.
“That’s a dangerous answer.”
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t get attached.”
Thomas smiled sadly.
“Too late for that.”
Clara felt her heart race.
“What do you mean?”
He was silent for a moment.
“I think I’m getting attached to you.”
Clara didn’t respond right away. She had dreamed of hearing those words without ever daring to imagine it would happen. But now that she actually heard them, she didn’t feel only joy. She felt fear too.
“Thomas...”
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
She searched for the right words.
“I’m afraid we won’t know where work ends and everything else begins.”
He nodded.
“Me too.”
“And yet you keep seeing me.”
“Because I want to.”
Clara turned toward him.
“Me too.”
They fell silent. That night, Clara barely slept.
In the morning, she got up before Thomas and walked to the window.
The city was beginning to wake. She thought about who she had been a few months earlier—a woman who had never imagined a fantasy could become such an important part of her life.
She had wanted to be desired. She had wanted an experience that would let her step out of the proper role she had always played.
But she had never planned to meet someone. Let alone to gradually fall in love.
Thomas woke up behind her.
“You’re already up?”
“Yes.”
“You think too much.”
“That’s my flaw.”
He came up behind her.
“Do you regret it?”
She turned around.
“No.”
“Then don’t think about tomorrow.”
Clara smiled.
“Easier said than done.”
They left the hotel a few hours later. Before parting, Thomas made plans with her for the following week.
“I’ll text you.”
“Okay.”
He hesitated.
“Clara?”
“Yes?”
“You know you can stop whenever you want.”
She looked at him.
“I know.”
“I just want to be certain you’re staying because you want to.”
She smiled at him.
“I’m staying because I want to.”
He kissed her on the forehead before leaving.
Clara stood alone for a few moments. She understood then that things had changed more deeply than she wanted to admit.
Thomas was still officially her client. She still accepted money when they met.
But the logic of their relationship was starting to crack.
They talked like two people who had known each other for years, missed each other when they were apart, and asked each other how their day had gone.
The following weekend, Clara declined an invitation from a friend to stay home.
“You’ve become impossible to reach,” her friend said reproachfully over the phone.
“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
Clara froze.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you seem different.”
“Different how?”
“Happier.”
Clara smiled in spite of herself.
“Maybe I am.”
“So tell me.”
“One day.”
She couldn’t tell her yet. Not now. She needed to understand for herself what was happening to her.
The weeks went on like this. Thomas gradually became a regular presence in her life.
He knew her tastes, knew when she needed to talk, and had learned to recognize the moments when she preferred to simply stay silent.
Clara, for her part, knew his habits and his worries.
She knew when he was tired, when something at work was bothering him, and when he was pretending everything was fine.
One evening, they met at a small restaurant. Thomas seemed preoccupied.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
He smiled.
“I got an offer to work in another city for a few months.”
Clara’s heart sank immediately.
“How long?”
“Three or four months.”
“Is it far?”
“Several hours from here.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Are you going to accept?”
“I don’t know.”
“You should.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because it’s important to you.”
“What if I don’t want to leave?”
Clara looked up.
“Then don’t leave.”
“For you?”
She said nothing. Thomas understood.
“That’s what scares you.”
“What?”
“That our relationship is becoming something you can no longer control.”
Clara sighed.
“I think I’m already in over my head.”
He gently took her hand.
“Me too.”
This time, neither of them tried to joke.
They knew their relationship had just reached a point where the old rules were no longer enough.
Clara had started this adventure alone, driven by a fantasy she had never dared share with anyone.
She thought she could set the boundaries, choose the encounters, and leave whenever she wanted.
Thomas had been her only client by choice, because she felt safe with him and because she desired no one else.
But now, she was beginning to understand that the real danger wasn’t the one she had imagined. It wasn’t the street. It wasn’t the hotel. It wasn’t even other people’s judgment. It was her heart. Because it didn’t know how to follow the rules she had set.
And when she got home that evening, Clara got a message from Thomas.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
She stared at the screen for a long time. Then she simply replied:
“Me too.”