Being with Pierre became effortlessly comfortable. The initial excitement of the new surroundings began to soften into something warm and welcoming for Nora. Their time together felt like a blend of mutual respect and companionship, even intimacy … but not sexual. When he tenderly took her in his arms to dance to a song, it was always accompanied by laughter. They were two good friends enjoying life together.
Except they were becoming more than good friends. When Nora met his deep blue gaze, she saw something unmistakable reflecting back—something like love, steady and true. The question was, which of them was brave enough to say it out loud?
She hadn’t forgotten he had displayed some unpleasant behavior when they’d first met, and from time to time she wondered if it might resurface. They spoke about it and Pierre admitted again to the bitterness and anger he had let consume him after his painful divorce. He spoke about the relief he felt when Nora came into his life and how, without her knowing, she had given him the strength to take a look at himself and let go.
Days after they arrived in Nice, Luc had called. Giselle wasn’t doing well, and he planned to stay longer with her in Mexico. Nora spoke with him about her feelings for the south of France and about Pierre, and Luc shared wise words with her.
“Nora, live your life doing what makes you happy. I understand how people fall in love with the south of France. There are reasons why painters, writers, and lovers have been attracted there for centuries. It sounds to me like Pierre may be an important part of why you are so happy, and that makes me pleased for you. You deserve this and I will always treasure your friendship.”
“Yes, Luc, always,” Nora murmured.
Then Giselle came on the phone. Her voice was tinged with sadness as she told Nora her health was failing, but she remained hopeful it would improve in time. Then she surprised Nora with another request.
“My dear Nora, I am so grateful for all the help you have offered me. As you now know, I am not certain when I will be able to return to Paris. Luc tells me you and Atticus are very close. And I could feel that in our texts and video calls. I wonder if you would consider making him your own. I’m afraid when I return, if I do, I will not be able to care for him as he needs.”
Nora’s heart broke at this news, but she would do anything she could to help Giselle.. “Of course. I’ll keep Atticus for as long as he needs to be with me. I love him very much and I know you do too. When you feel differently at any point, I will have him waiting for you. He’ll always be your sweet boy.”
She didn’t stop to consider the logistics. What mattered now was offering kindness and support. As a last resort, Jezebel might have to learn to love Atticus.
* * *
During all the time Nora and Pierre spent together, they hadn’t addressed what was quickly becoming the elephant in the room. Exactly what was the nature of their relationship? It was as if they both avoided the obvious.
Occasionally Pierre held her hand as they walked along the cobblestone laneways, but when they said goodnight to each other in the hallway, it was still a bise. Although she had to admit these kisses had started to last longer. And she’d noticed a change in the way he looked at her. It was how she wanted to look at him but was wary to do so.
At the start of their third week together, they sat at the small patio table on Pierre’s terrace in the evening, enjoying a glass of rosé.
“Pierre, I think I must go back to Paris. I love life in Nice, but what am I doing? You’ve been so incredibly thoughtful in showing me around and teaching me about this amazing part of the world, but I should go back to Giselle’s apartment.”
Reaching across the table, he traced his fingers along her cheek and then took her hands. “Is it wrong if I tell you I wish you would stay?”
Nora felt herself being drawn into his gaze, unsteady in the quiet intensity between them. “But why is that? I wonder why we are so happy together, and if that’s enough of a reason to stay.”
“Nora.”
Pierre’s voice was thick with emotion. His eyes, achingly sincere, did not leave hers. “Je t’aime avec tout mon coeur. Je veux passer le reste de ma vie avec toi. I’m in love with you, with all my heart. I know it. With absolute certainty I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve been reluctant to say it in case it frightens you away.”
Nora’s reaction was instinctive. Her heart surged. She ached with that sweet, terrifying weight only love can carry. She didn’t think now, but simply felt.
She reached for him, her voice soft and sure. “Oh Pierre, je t’adore aussi. Every day I'm falling more in love with you too.” She paused, her voice catching, “And you said it. I’m scared—but only because this feels so real.”
He stood up and went to her, still holding her hands as he gently pulled her up to stand with him. With their hands entwined, she felt the tender brush of his lips on hers. Her response, tentative at first, grew more certain—inviting, asking for more. As their kiss deepened, they moved in perfect harmony, matching each other in longing and desire, as though they’d each been waiting for this moment.
They kissed again and again, passionately and hungrily, as their arms slipped around each other, pulling closer with every breath. In that embrace, time seemed to vanish and the world fell away, leaving only the quiet truth between them: they had found their way home – to each other.
* * *
The morning sun blazed through the bedroom window, which had the shutters flung open. Opening her eyes, Nora realized she was caught in a jumble of arms and legs—a full-body embrace. She looked at Pierre to find his eyes on her.
“I love watching you sleep,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“I love that you love that.” Nora met his gaze, warm and full of feeling.
They lay together in the quiet afterglow, wrapped in the intimacy of all they had shared through the night.
“Are we still friends?” he whispered.
“The very best,” she whispered back. “And always will be.”
