She wipes a raindrop off of my forehead, concern written on her features. “We should go inside.”
I nod, trying to remain calm. Hoping that it stays just like this. No thunder. No memories. She reaches for my hand and entwines her fingers with mine, the gesture natural like her hand has always belonged there. We run until we reach a large tree. We are standing under its shelter when an image flashes right in front of my eyes. It’s of an older man watching his kids play outside in the rain. Secluded in the safety of his living room, he wishes he could join them, but he can’t. He’s too afraid. So he must be content to just sit back and see his life pass by.
I squeeze her hand. “I don’t want to run anymore.” Life is already too short to spend it watching it from the sidelines.
“Are you sure?”
As kids and adults run past us, trying to avoid getting wet, we remain in our spot. It’s time to face my demons straight on. What’s the worst that can happen? That they take me back to hell? It’s not like I haven’t been there before. I let my gaze fall on our hands, thinking, and I came back. I survived.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
I step out of the shelter of the tree, close my eyes, tilt my head back, and feel the rain as it cleanses me from the inside out. There are no grand gestures. No magic words to make the pain disappear. But today I fight back. Today, I choose life.
I open my eyes, focus on her gorgeous face, and grin. “If I remember correctly, you once told me you wanted to dance in the rain. Well, ma petite chouette. How about a dance?”
“What?” Her eyes widen in surprise, but she smiles nonetheless. “Now?”
“Yeah, why the fuck not?”
“You’re crazy,” she says laughingly, but she comes running toward me anyway. And in that moment, she is as lovely as she is free. “But so am I it seems.”
I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me. Desire, hunger, and yearning for her reverberate like an echo within me. “Ready, ma petite chouette?”
Her own arms go around my neck, beaming. “Never been more ready.”
We begin to move under the rain. Our clothes are soaked. But none of it matters. Victor Hugo once said La vie est une fleur dont l’amour est le miel. Life is a flower of which love is the honey.
The man was onto something.
Ever since Valentina came into my life, I knew I had no chance against her. I was fucked the second she walked into the gallery and life threw her my way. Now that I’ve had a taste of a life with her in it, the one I led before wouldn’t be enough for me. I want her to dance for me naked under the stars. I want to make love to her as her hair falls on my face and her slim body takes me in over and over again. I want her to show me how to live life without fear—without restrictions.
Sophie once told me that love doesn’t divide. It multiplies. That Poppy would have wanted me to find love again, to move on, to live. But my heart remained shut. Silent. Frozen. Unmoved by the parade of women that came into my life, adorning my bed and keeping my body warm every night.
But then I met Valentina.
And the world was right again.
I will always love Poppy. Mourn for her and our unborn child. Nobody can replace her. Because it isn’t a competition. I don’t need to love one more than the other. But as I stare at Valentina, feel my arms around her, her heart drumming against mine, I finally understand what Sophie meant when she said love doesn’t divide.
It multiplies.
As I lay my eyes on Valentina, never breaking our gaze, I willingly jump down a precipice. Some people call it insanity. I call it love.
She’s mine, I tell myself.
But for how much longer, another voice answers.
WE’RE NOW STANDING outside my apartment. Lingering. Not ready for the night to be over. Not ready to say goodbye.
“Thank you for today, Sébastien. I had a great time.” I should invite him in, but something inside me forbids it.
“Don’t mention it.”
I point behind me, toward the door. “I need to … uh … it might be too late for a nightcap but—”
“It’s better this way.” He gives his head a gentle shake. “I’m going to be responsible and do the right thing and go.”
I stare at my feet, unable to look him in the eye because I’m afraid I’ll beg him to stay. “Please.”
Before I know what’s happening, he places a finger under my chin and makes me look at him. The small hairs on the back of my neck stand. “You know what I keep wishing for?”
I shake my head.
“For another life, in another universe, with you by my side. Now go inside and close the door.”
Without asking any questions, I do as he says. Inside the apartment, I shut the door behind me and recline my head against it as I take a deep breath. It’s better this way, I tell myself, but I might as well be talking to deaf ears for all the good it does. Every part of my soul screams to go after him, but I can’t.
A sigh escapes my lips as my sight lands on the mirror hung on the wall to my left. I stare at my reflection. Gone is the flawless woman whose husband didn’t want her, who hadn’t felt enough in a long time. Instead, I see someone with fire in her eyes. She smiles, and you can see traces of the woman she used to be. The one who wasn’t afraid to jump in puddles and cry in coffee-shops, and it’s because of Sébastien. He’s made me remember how it feels to be me.
What are you doing here? The voice inside my head asks. Go after him.
What am I going to say to him?
Does it matter? Go!
My heart begins to pump hard as the need to see him again comes over me. Throwing caution to the wind, I open the door, ready to rush out in search of him, but I stop frozen in place.
Sébastien is standing outside my apartment with a hand raised in the air, appearing like he was about to knock on the door. I pause to soak up the hard lines of his face, thirstily drinking them in.
“You’re still here,” I say feebly, feeling like a bomb of butterflies just went off inside me.
The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up to his elbows. Feet spread apart. He lowers his hand, a faint, rueful smile plays on the corners of his mouth. “I’m still here.”
I stand there and forget about heartache and repercussions. Because I’m selfish. Flawed. Hurt. Tired, so tired, of living in the dark. I want to know, feel what it’s like to be bathed in his light, even if it’s for a short time. I want to pretend we’re just two people who have finally found each other in this vast world.
“Why?”
“Because you are.”