Page 126 of The Substitute Fiancée

I’m sprawled across my bed, my sketchbook open on unfinished drawings. Hesitant lines. Aborted colors.

“I’m really not in the mood, guys.”

“That’s exactly the point,” Emelyne says, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “You haven’t been in the mood for two weeks. Forget that guy. He doesn’t deserve you.”

I know she’s right.

If only I could switch my feelings off with a button…

“Okay,” I finally give in.

Sunset Sunside is packed. Soft lighting bathes the room. The tables are close together. Onstage, five musicians: a young singer who also plays piano, an exceptional saxophonist, a harmonica player, a drummer, and a bassist. Between them, magic happens. The songs are about love. I adore it, but it’s also exactly the kind of atmosphere that brings memories rushing back without warning.

Alexander.

His smiles. Our comfortable silences. The moments when everything felt effortless.

I swallow the tears rising in my eyes, praying the darkness will hide them.

No luck.

Emelyne places her hand over mine. A light squeeze. Silent.

We leave the bar after the concert.

Mara is the one who spots the restaurant: a discreet façade, red lanterns, black ideograms. The moment I step inside, I’m struck.

It’s tiny. Intimate. Dark wood, white lanterns with Japanese calligraphy. A Japanese waitress welcomes us and shows us to our table.

I love this feeling of being somewhere else.

That’s Paris. Crossing the world in just a few subway stops.

For a moment, I imagine bringing Alexander here. Then I remember.

We broke up. I can’t share moments like this with him anymore.

It hurts, but I don’t regret my choice.

I refuse a relationship where I have to walk on eggshells. Where every male friend is a threat. Where I constantly have to prove my love.

I deserve better.

We order several small dishes to share.

“So… your inspector?” I ask Mara, biting into a burning-hot gyoza.

Her smile appears instantly, intimate, almost secret. The smile of a woman in love.

“He… he asked me to move in with him,” Mara says, her cheeks flushing.

“What?!” I blurt out.

“That’s huge!” Emelyne exclaims.

Mara studies her tempura without looking at us.

“I don’t know… maybe it’s a bit soon.”