Nora nodded, unable to find words.
“So, you’re probably wondering what’s going on with me. Fine dining, dancing with beautiful women … living the high life.”
Nora gave him a quiet, compassionate look and slowly shook her head. Before she could speak, he went on.
“After Mathilde’s accident I worked very hard for a small IT company I had started with two friends. We became successful beyond our dreams, and a few years ago sold the business. Now I work as a consultant and only when I want to.”
“It’s a very fortunate arrangement for a young man,” Nora said.
“Trust me, I feel blessed in that regard. I have many friends, male and female, and live life as I wish. The longer you are here, the more you will understand: We French see life very differently from North Americans. It’s one of our defining traits.”
“In what way?”
“We live for pleasure. Le plaisir … the art of seduction. Men and women. It has been this way for centuries. But not the way you might think of it. It is not only about romance or desire. It is in how we speak, how we dine, how we argue and agree. It is everywhere. It is about savoring – food, conversation, beauty, even melancholy. There is no rush. ”
Nora was intrigued. “Go on…” she said, her voice, low and thoughtful, as if she were weighing every word.
“This is our culture. Passion with restraint. I see it as the French way. There is a book I recommend to all my non-French friends because I believe it captures very well the essence of what I have said. I insist on giving a copy to you as well. It isLa Séductionby Elaine Sciolino, an American journalist who has lived in France for decades. She gets it right.”
“Thank you, I believe this is part of what Chloe keeps talking to me about ... the French effect. I look forward to reading it. You talk about pleasure like it’s something you live, not something you chase.”
“Yes, I think you get what I’m saying. Until you read the book, I hope you will not judge me and the way I live my life.” He looked at her intently.
Nora returned his gaze. “First of all, know this about me: I am not judgmental. Believe me, I have no intention of judging you in any way. I enjoy every moment we spend together, and although it was probably painful for you, I respect your willingness to share something so very personal with me.”
“Giselle said you have been a widow for some time, so we have a journey with grief in common. That, in itself, colors the way we live.”
“Yes, it does. Although my husband passed many years ago, he’s still very much alive in my heart.”
They talked quietly about grief, the weight of past choices, and the uncertain path forward until, surprised by the bar lights flickering to indicate closing time, they went out into the cold night.
As he drove to Nora’s, Luc said, “We should not part on a sad note. I know you are going to Provence for the holidays, and I am going to Mexico for a week to see Giselle. Dominique is coming too. She knows Giselle well.”
“Fabulous. What a good time you will have.”
“And I’m certain you will as well. Provence is magic at any time of year, and especially with all the traditions and food… Mon Dieu, the food! Prepare yourself!”
Nora sighed. “I’m still trying to sort out exactly how many meals I will have over those three days. Dining is going to be a marathon, from what I am told. But a delicious marathon!”
As Luc went up in the elevator with Nora, he said, “Why don’t we plan to see each other two weeks from now for more tango? But rather than wait so long, would you like to meet earlier in the week for a tour of the newly reopened Notre Dame?”
“I would love to!”
“Fantastique. I will arrange it for perhaps the Tuesday after we both return. How does that sound?”
Nora touched his arm as Luc leaned in to give her warm bises. “I am already looking forward to it. Thank you and enjoy your time away with Dominique. Please give Giselle my love.”
Before she could think twice, her emotions still stirred from their conversation, Nora slipped her arms around Luc and pulled him into an embrace. He held her just as tightly.
They stayed like that for more than a minute, wrapped in silence. When they finally stepped back, their eyes met and no words were needed. A simple nod passed between them, full of understanding.
When she went inside this time, Nora didn’t pirouette around the room, but she did flop on the cushions. She was overwhelmed by a tangle of feelings. The evening had been such fun, but her heart hurt as she considered Luc’s story.
She thought about how life could be unspeakably cruel. Not necessarily in loud, violent ways but in the slow unraveling of everything one believed was safe. A time in life which one thought might be the happiest suddenly could turn into the most painful. And over that, one had no control.
And despite the pain, life continued. Nora remembered how she felt in the early days after Jeremy was gone. How could the sun still rise, birds sing, people laugh? It didn’t seem right.
But slowly life expanded… New people, new stories, new memories. One never forgot—ever—but grief became part of one’s being, and one learned to live with it.
