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“It’s going to be okay, Clem. Calm down. All this stress isn’t good for you or for the baby. If you really want an answer, you can get a paternity test, right?”

“Before the baby is born, it’s complicated… And I’m so afraid of what the result might be.”

“We’ll find a solution, okay?”

I rub her back, not having the slightest idea what to do. Sitting side by side on this cold bench, we barely notice the hundreds of passersby streaming past us. Clem hiccups and blows her nose, then sighs and sniffles some more. She tucks her chin into the collar of her coat, trying to disappear.

“Alma, that’s not all.”

“Oh God, you must really want to give me a heart attack.”

She laughs quietly, then jumps straight in. “Clarence is in love with me. He’s told me several times. No matter how often I tell him that what happened between us was a mistake, that it will never happen again, he’s still convinced we’re made for each other.”

“That explains why he’s been acting so different lately,” I muse.

“I’m really sorry.”

“You really don’t feel anything for him?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I want to protect my family, Alma. I have to think about my daughters.” She starts sobbing again.

That’s the kind of answer someone who is stopping herself from falling in love would give.

***

In the late afternoon, I walk Clémentine home, then offer to stay and keep her company. Thinking it might take her mind off things, I suggest one of the DIY mani-pedis we used to do when we were teenagers, but she says she’d better not. Her twin girls will be home soon, she tells me, so she needs to make herself presentable and get ready to pretend everything is fine. I leave her with the promise that I’ll always be there for her.

Somewhat reluctantly, I head over to the Montparnasse neighborhood. Kate and I have planned something new. Some “team-building.” Well, that’s the aim, anyway.

I arrive a little early in front of the illuminated façade of the Irish pub where my boss told me to meet her. She’s already there too, though. A leopard doesn’t change its spots so quickly.

That said, I soon discover a different side of Kate. Her stern appearance remains unchanged—classy blazer, severe glasses, guarded body language—but there’s a little sparkle in her eyes, a hint of mischief. It must be the beer, surely. We’ve only downed one when my boss announces that she’s going to introduce me to ax throwing, her favorite way to blow off steam.

For almost two hours, we let loose on wooden targets. She laughs at my clumsiness, I marvel at her unexpected strength, and we end up finishing off a basket of fries together—using our fingers.

It seems anything is possible.

On the way back, I think about Clem again, my heart heavy. Kate had almost managed to cheer me up, but Clémentine’s situation is eating away at me. I hurry back to Vadim’s suite, where soothing classical music fills the air. He’s working on his laptop, stretched out on the couch. I snuggle up against him. He closes his screen and makes room for me, then asks how Clem is doing. He wants to hear all about my evening with Kate, too. I’m too drained to tell him anything.

I close my eyes, breathing in the intoxicating scent that never fails to comfort me, as he strokes my hair.

“Seeing you surrounded by your family reminds me of the emptiness around me.” His husky voice murmurs the words into my ear.

I know how hard it is for him to open up like this. I hold him a little tighter, slide my hand over his heart, and feel his chest rise beneath my palm. He takes a deep breath, then slowly exhales.

“I’m here, Vadim.”

“My dream would be for us to have a child someday, you and me. To build a family that no one could ever tear away from us, you know?”

I’m shaken to my core.

The music fills the silence between us, each note heavy with emotion.

I sit up, overwhelmed by his confession, and lose myself in his mesmerizing, gray eyes. There’s sadness there, along with tenderness. He sees right through me.

The subject is so painful for me, my trauma still so raw. And his own wound is still gaping. We gaze at each other for a few long seconds, his hand continuously stroking my back. There is an invisible bond between Vadim and me, one that has connected us for twelve years and needs no words. It may be invisible, but it has never felt as tangible, as unbreakable, as it does in this moment.

I lean in, and we kiss so tenderly that I could die.