by Harper Bliss
“Morning.” Sam’s voice didn’t betray any signs of the shots they had done the night before. Of course, he’d offered to drive and had slowed down his alcohol intake before heading back to the house. “How are things, sis?” He shot her a fat wink.
“She seems to be feeling somewhat under the weather. I wonder why,” their mother said before Claire had a chance to reply.
They’d visited the bar in Marseille Sam had looked up. It had been half-empty and if, by any chance, any of the ladies present had sent signals of interest in Claire’s direction, she had been too drunk—and still too heartbroken—to notice. In fact, Claire’s main memory of the night was asking Sam to pull over on the way back so she could throw up on the grassy curb.
“Tante Claire, you must come watch me jump in the pool. I’ve been practicing all morning.” Léa stormed towards the table, her sister in tow. Claire tried very hard not to grab her head. She’d let Steph drive to Lyon, and she wouldn’t drink a drop tonight—or ever again.
“Later, honey,” Sam intervened. “Tante Claire is not feeling very well.”
Claire did remember that she’d told Sam all about Margot, because how could she possibly hold it in? He’d kept scanning the app he’d installed on her phone. “Looking for Asians,” he kept saying, until she’d caved in and told him about Inez’ return.
“What a stone cold bitch.” Sam, just like their mother, was never one to mince his words. He wouldn’t last a week in PR. “And that Margot, I know it must hurt, sis, but she doesn’t deserve you.” It was easy for him to say. With his perfect family, living only a few miles from their mother and father so they could witness on a daily basis how by-the-book, at least, their son’s life was.
The pain of losing Margot combined with the pressure, irrational or not, she always felt when under her mother’s scrutiny, had simply been too much to bear. So Claire had kept on drinking, vodka at first, then chased down by tequila shots. Until it had all spasmed its way up again, leaving Claire heaving by the roadside, a broken version of herself.
“You know how you sometimes take a nap after lunch, sweetie.” Claire looked into Léa’s pleading eyes. “Tante Claire needs to have one of those after breakfast today.” She touched the girl’s arm briefly before she pattered away, her sister in tow again. She should see more of them. Family was important. She’d bonded with her brother over, of all things, this painful break-up. But first, she needed to go back to bed and forget some more.
“No wonder,” her mother said, not waiting until the girl was out of earshot—and always gunning for a fight, it seemed. “I heard the car drive up. What time was it?” She nudged her husband in the ribs. “It woke your father up as well. Not that I regret that, as he was snoring so loudly—”
“Just leave her be, Léonie,” her father said, looking up briefly from his newspaper, finding Claire’s eyes and blinking. “And me as well, while you’re at it.”
“I’m just going to go…” Claire didn’t finish her sentence, just headed back inside.
“I’ll keep the kids as quiet as possible,” Sam said, a tender smile on his lips. A smile that broke Claire apart even more.
What would that dinner at Margot’s parents have been like? And what about her sister who lived in the suburbs? Was Margot tightening a pair of handcuffs around Inez’ wrists right now? Or were they working the weekend shift at Saint-Vincent’s ER together? No matter which direction Claire’s mind wandered in, she couldn’t win. She lay down on her bed, closed her eyes and tried not to think of anything.
* * *
“Drive safely, darling.” Claire’s mother opened her arms for a hug, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. As if all the emotions they couldn’t express during a week together had to be crammed into that one moment of goodbye.
Claire accepted the hug, but her muscles remained rigid, the curve of her arms around her mother’s shoulders forced.
She watched Steph shake her father’s hand and she was glad she didn’t have to go through this alone. If Claire was sick of anything, it was of being alone. Of driving up here alone, of facing her family alone, of waking up alone.
After kissing her nieces and nephew goodbye and whispering a muffled thank-you in Sam’s ear, she led the way into the city, where Steph deposited her rental car.
“How was your holiday?” she asked, as soon as she slid into the passenger seat of her car, ready to be distracted by Steph’s tales and, at the same time, dreading to be confronted with any sign of love in Steph’s voice. But they had miles and miles of motorway between them and Paris. And a night in Lyon. If only it were enough.
MARGOT
Margot parked her motorcycle along the Canal Saint-Martin. The place buzzed with the excitement of a sunny summer Paris afternoon, but Margot didn’t have eyes for the people strolling past, for the joggers and how the sun left its mark on the water with a million fractured rays reflecting back on its surface. She counted the house numbers until she found number fifty-six and rang the bell to the top floor flat.
“Oui,” Inez said through the intercom, the electronic connection making it sound sultry. Or maybe that’s how she wanted to come across. Maybe she knew why Margot had come. She’d be a fool if she didn’t.
The building had no lift, but Margot easily climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. She had plenty of energy to burn.
When she reached the flat, Inez stood leaning in the door frame, wearing an oversized shirt and ultra-short jeans shorts. “Hey,” she said, smiling from ear to ear.
“Nice neighbourhood,” Margot said, not interested in small talk. She had only come here for one purpose. To find out if they still had that spark. If it had survived what Inez had done to her.
Inez invited Margot in. Her place was small and sparsely decorated, exactly how Margot would expect the home of a returning ER doctor to look. The most important feature of her apartment was that it was a ten-minute walk from Saint-Vincent. Margot understood. If her parents hadn’t given her the Saint-Germain-des-Prés flat, this would probably be how she would live as well.
“Are you…” Margot watched Inez’ eyes wander to the bulge in her jeans.
Margot nodded and inched closer to Inez.
“Never one to waste time.” Inez’ eyes narrowed while her hand reached for Margot’s crotch, but Margot swatted it away.
“Wait for it.” She pushed Inez against the wall nearest to the sofa. “You know better.”
Inez chewed on her lip and nodded.
Margot took a step back and started unbuttoning Inez’ shirt. She wore nothing underneath. They both knew why she was here. While her hands cupped Inez’ breasts, her lips touched Inez’ mouth. It was only the second time they’d kissed after Inez had come back—the first time since Margot had broken up with Claire. Wet heat throbbed beneath Margot’s jeans, beneath what she was packing.
Inez’ hands delved into Margot’s hair, pulling her close. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, Go-Go,” she said, when they broke apart. “I want you so much.”
Margot had every intention of giving her exactly what she wanted. Her hands drifted down to the button of Inez’ shorts. “Take it off,” she said, after flipping the button open. “All the way.” She gave Inez room to wiggle out of her shorts and underwear and stripped off her own t-shirt in the process. Margot had decided against wearing a bra as well. What would have been the point?
When she kissed Inez this time, she made sure to press her pelvis hard against Inez’, making sure she could feel every last inch of what she had stowed away beneath her trousers. Margot grabbed Inez by the wrist and brought her fingers to her face. She let them slip between her lips and sucked them deep into her mouth, before letting them slide out and letting them hover against Inez’ lips. “Make them wet,” Margot said, her knees buckling at the sight of Inez’ eyes. They burned as brightly as her hair did in the afternoon sun.
Inez sucked two of her own fingers into her mouth, letting them glide out with a loud smack of her lips.
Breathless, Inez nodded. Margot still had her fingers curled around Inez’ wrist and pulled her hand down between her legs. “Finger yourself,” Margot said, her own breath starting to hitch in her throat. She kept her fingers around Inez’ wrist and guided her hand until Inez’ fingertips reached her entrance. Margot let her own fingers skate along Inez’ pussy lips to make sure she was moist enough. “Now,” she said, while unbuttoning her jeans with her free hand.
Inez’ eyes went wide as she glued them to Margot’s toy. Margot stepped back and enjoyed the show. She grabbed the dildo in her fist and rubbed her palm along its length while Inez fingered herself as best she could in the position she was in, lower back against the wall, legs bent, shoulders hunched.
She didn’t say it out loud, but Margot could read it in her glance. “Fuck me,” it screamed. “This is not enough.”
Margot shuffled closer and stilled Inez’ hand with her own. “On your knees,” she breathed into Inez’ ear.
Inez couldn’t kneel fast enough. She dropped down, her hands already cupping Margot’s bottom. Margot looked down at her, at how she opened her mouth for the toy, let the tip of her tongue slip across the head.
“The deeper you take it, the deeper I’ll fuck you with it.” Out of nowhere, just as Inez looked up into her eyes, Margot wondered how Claire would react to a scene like this. Would she like it? Margot didn’t know her well enough yet. Yet?
Inez’ lips slid over the shaft of Margot’s strapped-on dildo, taking it in her mouth deeper every time her head cocked up and down. Not a surprise to Margot at all. Inez was still Inez. But was she still the same person as well?
“That’s enough,” Margot said. She waited until Inez let the toy slip from her mouth and offered her a hand to get up. Inez took it and hoisted herself up. Her lips looked puffed up, the fire in her eyes blazing with a hunger Margot could barely remember ever seeing. She led Inez to the sofa and, once there, spun her around so her backside faced Margot. “Bend over.” She let her fingers roam across Inez’ spine, who looked back at her, her lips forming an ‘o’. Oh yes.
Inez toppled her torso over the armrest of the sofa, her bottom up in the air, her legs spread. Margot’s heartbeat tightened to a quick drum in her chest. She stepped closer, until the tip of the toy touched Inez’ flesh. She couldn’t leave her hanging like this any longer, she had to give it to her now.
She dragged the tip along Inez’ soaked pussy lips once, before thrusting deep, her fingers curled around the base of the dildo.
“Jesus,” Inez cried out. “Oh sweet Jesus.” Did she do this for anyone else in the jungle? She’d said there’d been no other girlfriend, but she must have had sex. They had so much to talk about. So much pain to explore further.
Margot increased the speed of her strokes, burrowing deep inside of Inez, her glance focused on the red of her hair—somehow glad she didn’t have to look her in the eyes. Didn’t have to see Inez surrender.
Inez bucked herself back against Margot, the curve of her behind brushing against Margot’s pubic hair as she fucked her. Margot curled her arm around Inez’ thighs and found her clit. She just held her finger there so Inez’ clit could brush against it as she shot forward to the rhythm of Margot’s thrusts.
“Oh god, I’m coming,” Inez hissed, and before, it would have been enough for Margot. She would have been right there with her, her own clit finding its own release against the silicone base of the toy, but not today. The disconnect between them was too big. Whatever Margot had hoped to find, it was gone.
Inez’ body sagged into the sofa, her muscles relaxing as Margot withdrew. She stepped out of her jeans because she needed to get the strap-on off her, couldn’t face the feel of it against her skin anymore.
By the time Margot had discarded the toy, Inez had turned around, her backside leaning against the armrest now. “No one makes me come like you do, Go-Go. No one.” Again, it made Margot wonder about other people in Inez’ life, but she didn’t ask. Inez reached out her hand. Margot took it and let herself be pulled close.
“Shall I do you or are you good?” she asked, her cheek against the hot skin of Margot’s belly.
“I’m good,” Margot lied, because, in that moment, she had no interest in Inez’ fingers inside of her.
JULIETTE
While it was true that Juliette had never asked Nadia to stop drinking, nor expected it, the speed at which Nadia was knocking back the wine of late, made her regret that she’d never explicitly demanded it.
They’d spent a nice enough Sunday outside, going to the market and eating ice-cream in the Parc Monceau. But from where she sat at the dinner table, Juliette could see the first thunder clouds loom through the window.
Juliette looked away from the window as Nadia manoeuvred to refill her glass. She held her hand above the opening, indicating she’d had enough—hoping her sated state would rub off on Nadia. It didn’t.
“Babe,” Nadia said after she’d taken a sip. “What did you mean the other day when you said we should consider making some changes in our lives?”
Juliette sighed. “I don’t know.” She shoved her empty glass to the middle of the table. “I guess I’m afraid that, if we’re not careful, we’ll go right back to where we were before.”
“How could we ever go back?” Nadia rested her dark eyes on Juliette. “We’ll never be the same people again.”
“I’m not so sure of that.” Juliette grabbed the near-empty bottle of wine and moved it to her side of the table.
Nadia arched up her eyebrows. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” Juliette could hardly not say anything just to keep the peace. She’d done enough of that.
“What? I can’t have a glass of wine on Sunday?” Nadia’s naked foot found Juliette’s ankle underneath the table. She always did that.
“I think you have a tendency to mistake a glass for an entire bottle.” Juliette tapped a fingernail against the belly of the wine bottle.
“I didn’t drink all of that on my own.”
“No, but you seem to be increasing your units steadily by the day.”
“Only because you freaked me out by talking about change and not saying what you really meant.” Underneath the table, Nadia retracted her foot.
“And that’s your answer?” Juliette glanced at Nadia’s glass. “Instead of just asking me?”
“I did ask and all you gave me was vagueness. What am I supposed to do with that?” Nadia sagged back in her seat. “We seem so fragile still, as if something’s missing and I don’t know how to fill that void.”
Tightness coiled in Juliette’s gut. “What we miss between us now is the trust we once had. It will take time.”
“And change… apparently.” Nadia looked away briefly. “I have plenty of time on offer, Jules, but I am who I am.”
“I didn’t mean you had to change, babe. We just need to be vigilant.”
“The way you said it, the other day, you made it sound as if the prospect of your life with me wasn’t enough.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant… On the contrary. I love the thought of waking up next to you for the rest of my days. I was just pondering the choices we’ve made in the past… thinking about whether they’re still valid.”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about. If you could say what you mean instead of wrapping everything in vagueness. From where I’m sitting, you may either be talking about our choice to live in the city, or, I don’t know, be hinting at wanting an open relationship or something.”
“What?” Juliette’s eyes grew wide. “Where did you get that?”
“From having to guess.” Nadia took another sip of wine. “In the position we’re in, after what our relationship is trying to recover from, our lines of communication should be wide open, but instead you speak in riddles.”
“Okay.” Juliette straightened her posture. “I do no
t want an open relationship and I love living in the city.”
“I know, I was just giving examples of what’s going through my head.” Nadia sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. It made her look extra vulnerable.
Juliette didn’t really know how to broach the subject, which was why she’d been dilly-dallying around it. “Today in the park, when we were at the playground, I just, I don’t know… I second-guessed some of the choices I have made.” She watched Nadia grow speechless, but continued. “Other people our age, when they close their office door behind them in the evening, they have this other life that waits for them at home.” Afraid of Nadia’s reaction, she couldn’t immediately bring herself to say it.
“You mean they have children?” Nadia said it for her.
Juliette brought her hands to her head. “I don’t know what’s going on with me lately.” She rested her chin on the palm of one hand. “We live in this bubble of work, too much wine in the evening, and the same old places we go to in the weekend… and I was always okay with that. We built our careers instead of a family life.” She snickered. “I mean, most of the time, I even wondered why people put themselves through that, you know. Sacrifice their time and their job to pick up the kids from school, but I guess that, now, I’m starting to see why they do it.” That near-empty bottle of wine suddenly seemed appealing. “What do I have to show for?”
Nadia reached for her glass and swallowed back its contents. “I have to say, babe, I was expecting a speech on me drinking too much—again. I know I have.” Nadia caught Juliette’s glance. “But I wasn’t expecting this.”
“With all that’s happened between us, I had a lot of time to think and I came to the dreadful conclusion that, with you out of the equation, I have nothing.” Desperate, Juliette extended her arm over the table. Nadia instantly grabbed hold of her hand.
Nadia shook her head. “But I’m still here.” She squeezed Juliette’s palm between her fingers. “And you have the firm, your friends, and my family, for that matter. You have a full life.”
