His side: the terrace

A work of fiction. The same night as in "The Weekend That Changed Everything," told by Marc. Read it after Part 1: The Weekend That Changed Everything.

I’ll tell you the truth: I’m the one who found that resort, and I regretted it for the entire flight.

Not because I didn’t want it. Because I was afraid she’d discover something she’d like more than me.

On Sofia and Léo’s terrace, with the lanterns and the champagne, I leaned against the railing to look relaxed. I wasn’t. I was watching everything. I saw Léo looking at the sea while Sofia toasted "to first times." He wasn’t looking at her. I told myself it was nothing.

Then Sofia touched Julie’s shoulder. The strap slipped. I saw the black lace, the set she hadn’t shown me, and I understood she’d bought it for tonight. For this exact moment. Nine years, and I thought I knew everything about her.

That’s when it hit me. Not jealousy. Pride. My wife, under the lanterns, being looked at by two strangers as if she were the most beautiful thing on the island. And she was.

When she crossed the terrace to kiss me first, I almost cried. I’ve never told her that.

Then Sofia kissed me. And for a second, I forgot to look for Julie. A single second. When I found her again, she was watching me, and there was no reproach in her eyes. There was fire.

I reached out my hand. She took it. I promised myself I’d never let go for longer than that one second.

At the door, I told her: "Whatever happens. It’s you." She thought I said it to reassure her.

I said it to reassure myself.

Adults 18+ only.