“I wouldn’t want you to pretend,” I said. “I mean that and I promise, I’m not trying to make this difficult for you or for me. I do like you.” I had.
He studied my face, stroking his thumb along my cheekbone then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
The word carried acceptance—not surrender, but understanding.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said quietly. “But I also don’t want to hold you to something you can’t give right now.Theyare important to you.”
Emotion swelled in my throat. “You’re important to me too,” I said. I couldn’t deny that my feelings for the guys were complicated or that everything was complicated. I should have that word tattooed on me somewhere. “That hasn’t changed.”
“I know.” His voice softened. “And I’m still here.” Then, gently, he added in French, his accent slipping just a little,“Certaines des plus belles choses dans la vie sont compliquées.”
Some of the most beautiful things in life are complicated.
I smiled at him—small, tired, real.
“Yeah,” I said. “They really are.”
We stood there for another moment, the field quiet around us, the day waiting whether we were ready or not.
Eventually, we’d have to go back.
But for now, this—honest, complicated, unfinished—was enough.
Mathieu shifted, glancing back toward the school like he was recalibrating. “Do you want me to walk you back?”
The offer was simple. No pressure. No expectation.
“Yeah,” I said after a beat. “I’d like that.”
We turned together, falling into step more easily than we had earlier. Some of the tension had eased—not vanished, but loosened enough to breathe. Maybe just naming everything had helped. Maybe it was the relief of not pretending.
As the building came back into view, he glanced sideways at me. “Are you free tonight?”
I winced apologetically. “No. I have to work. The week’s been… insane.”
He nodded immediately. “Of course. That makes sense.”
No disappointment. No guilt. Just understanding.
We slowed near the edge of the parking lot where students were funneling toward the doors. Rachel appeared ahead of us, leaning against a railing like she’d been waiting without waiting.
Her eyes flicked to my face.
Not asking. Just checking.
I gave her a small nod. Still standing.
Mathieu stopped a few steps back, already easing out of the moment. “I’ll see you both in French,” he said lightly.
“À plus tard,”Rachel replied without missing a beat.
He smiled at that, then looked back at me. “Take care, Frankie.”
“I will.”
He turned and headed toward the main entrance, blending back into the current of the morning.
Rachel waited until he was out of earshot before lifting her eyebrows.
