Even when he’s chatting with Jamie and Francis, I can feel his eyes drifting my way from time to time, like I’m caught in some quiet orbit he hasn’t quite escaped. I have a feeling he’s following Maddie’s instructions to the letter.
I’m not sure if it’s genuine curiosity or just a sense of duty, but either way, there’s something unexpectedly sweet about it.
There’s something about Remi... Maybe it’s the way he carries himself, so deliberate, so measured. Like he’s always trying to keep the world in order. He doesn’t seem like someone who enjoys surprises. More like someone who craves control, who finds comfort in plans and routines. Which makes me wonder, how would he cope with real chaos?
I can’t help but be curious.
It might be interesting to find out.
For now, though, there’s no chaos.
Just the warm hum of laughter, teasing, and conversation drifting around the table. The knot of anxiety I was carrying earlier has completely eased. And for the first time in a long while, I feel like I might actually belong.
Everyone seems genuinely curious about my life as a pianist.
None of them are musicians, though Jamie, being a dancer, has a real ear for classical music and absolutely loves it, so I get bombarded with questions about solo performances, the Paris orchestra, touring life… And it’s rare, but also really nice, to feel so seen without having to prove myself.
They’re not just interesting, Remi’s friends. They’re kind. Funny.
And, maybe best of all, effortlessly easy to be around.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this welcome.
I lean back in my chair, smiling as I listen to them swap stories about work, full of madness, humor, and heart. Through Maddie, I already knew about Remi’s PhD in quantum physics, and I’d heard that Anne worked in PR for a major fashion house.
But I didn’t know Francis was finishing his medical internship.
Or that Noah had just started teaching art in a primary school. And Jamie, besides being a dancer, is also a contemporary dance teacher.
They’re all brilliant in their own ways. Driven. Creative. Just like Maddie.
But what strikes me more than anything is how at ease they are in themselves. They’re open. Warm. Unpretentious. And it makes me realize just how rare that is. How much I’ve missed being around people who make room for you exactly as you are.
I’m just beginning to settle, truly relax into my chair, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I flinch at the unexpected touch, and as I turn around, my whole body goes cold.
Ian?
Oh no.
OhGod. No.
REMI
We’re all talking about work, full and content after demolishing our pies, already halfway through a second round of beers, when I notice something shift in Sebastian.
He goes pale. Jaw clenched, shoulders tight, like every muscle in his body just locked up. For a second, he looks like he might pass out.
I’m about to get up when I spot someone standing behind him.
Ian.
A friend of Anne’s.
We’ve bumped into him here at the pub a few times, if I’m remembering right.
I have no idea what’s going on, but Sebastian’s expression sends a jolt through me; he looks like he’s been punched in the stomach.
