French Kissing: Season One

by Harper Bliss

  “How official.” A small grin tugged at Claire’s lips. Juliette was glad she at least attempted a smile.

  “We’ll see.” Steph leaned back in her chair.

  Juliette eyed her for a few seconds before asking the question that had really been on her mind. Steph’s hair looked as if she, at the same time, never went to a hairdresser and had just come back from one. Most of all, Steph always came across entirely relaxed and at peace with the world. A sort of nonchalance Juliette had always somewhat envied, and had always suspected came from living a no-strings-attached life. But there she sat. She was deeply involved with someone now. She was in love and, yet, her demeanour appeared the same. She exuded the same air of not knowing where life would take her next, and not particularly caring. Steph didn’t look at all like a person who had just spent an entire week with her secret lover’s children.

  “Before you know it, you’ll be a stepmother.” Juliette pinned her glance on Steph, not wanting to miss a fraction of a second of her reaction.

  “Wow.” She lifted up her hands. “Take it easy, Jules.”

  “What was it like, though?” Juliette refilled their glasses of wine.

  Claire held her hand over hers. “I’m meeting Margot after this. I need to keep a clear head.”

  “They’re great kids. Really wonderful.” Steph grabbed her full glass from the table and sagged back into her chair. “They’re at a really funny age, always asking questions and saying silly things.”

  “Did they not wonder about you?” Juliette noticed how Steph’s lazy smile faded a bit.

  “I’m just a friend of their mother.” She shrugged. “Their mind doesn’t go there. They asked a lot of questions about me, of course. Lisa even asked me if I had a husband.” Steph snickered. “Not in a million years, I told her.”

  “How old are they?” Claire asked. “Emma and Léa are five now and Nathan is two and they’re all bloody exhausting.”

  “We all know how you feel about children, Claire,” Juliette said.

  “How I feel?” Claire brought a hand to her chest. “Last time I checked, dear Jules, we both shared the sentiment that we were not cut out for them.”

  Juliette could almost feel the heat of Claire’s stare on her cheeks. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

  “They’re six and—” Steph started to say.

  “Hold on.” Claire sat up straight in her chair and leaned her torso in Juliette’s direction. “Could you say that again, please?”

  Juliette lifted her shoulders. “Nadia and I have been talking about it.” It wasn’t exactly the truth—they’d barely skirted around the subject a few times—but Juliette wanted to get her friends’ take on it.

  “We go away for a week and you and Nadia start talking about having kids?” Claire rolled her eyes. “Jules, come on. After what you’ve just been through… isn’t it more like a reaction, a reflex to somehow change the instability of your relationship?”

  Juliette looked over at Steph, but she seemed to be staying out of this one.

  “Look, I’m not saying we’ll be running to the sperm bank next week. It’s just something that’s been on my mind.” She locked her gaze on Claire defiantly. “Take Olivier from Connu… He owns his own company and he’s a single dad, even. Adopted David when he was forty-three.”

  Claire sighed. “I’m just shocked, Jules. I’m not trying to say that what you’re experiencing is invalid. I mean, all of our clocks are ticking.”

  “You and Nadia would make great parents,” Steph interjected. “Hell, I’d want you to adopt me.” A smile slipped across Steph’s lips. “But I’m just as shocked as Claire, Jules. Whenever the conversation has landed on children in the past, you were always the one making the most vocal arguments against having them. They take over your entire life. They drain you of all of your energy. They put a strain on your relationship.” She shook her head. “I’m just repeating what I heard you say.”

  “Maybe I’ve changed my mind.” Juliette was hesitant to express the profoundness of the change inside of her. “Look at Dominique. If all goes well, she’ll be a minister in the next cabinet.”

  “It’s different for straight people, though,” Steph said. “For most of them, their life isn’t complete when they haven’t procreated. When they haven’t followed the exact same pattern as their parents and grandparents. They don’t have to question the biology. They just do it.” Steph sipped from her wine and found Juliette’s eyes. “I’m quite certain that one of the reasons Lisa and Didier were so ecstatic on holiday, was because they got to spend uninterrupted time with their mother. And for Dominique, it’s a constant guilt trip. She loves them to bits and they’re well cared for, but she’s not the best example here.”

  Claire pushed her chair back. “I’d love to stay for the rest of this conversation, but I have to go.”

  Steph rose as well and opened her arms wide. “Come here.” Claire stepped into Steph’s hug. From where Juliette was sitting, her body seemed tense. Juliette was sorry she’d hijacked the conversation. They should have used their time to prepare Claire for meeting Margot. But what could they possibly have said?

  Juliette stood up and squeezed Claire’s hand. “Don’t let her break you all over again. Tell her she’ll have me to deal with if she does.”

  Claire shot her a weak smile and went on her way.

  “I’m worried about her,” Juliette said as soon as Claire was out of earshot. “How was she on the ride back?”

  “A big mess,” Steph said. “She’s still so in love with Margot and she’d take her back in a heartbeat.”

  “Love, eh?” Juliette looked at her watch. “I promised Nadia I’d take care of dinner.”

  “Just remember, Jules…” Steph poured the last of the bottle into her glass. “No more after work drinks once you adopt that baby.”

  “And who says that’s a bad thing?” Juliette drained her glass and kissed Steph goodbye. “Let me know if Dominique can make it to Nadia’s birthday in a timely fashion, please.”

  “Yes, boss.” Steph touched two fingers to her temple and saluted her.

  CLAIRE

  “You broke me,” Claire said, not caring how overly dramatic it sounded. To her, it was the truth. “You broke me into a thousand little pieces and the worst part is, sitting across from you now, looking at you, trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head, I still want you so much.”

  Margot had asked for something stronger when Claire had offered her wine. Claire had poured her vodka, the same brand she’d found comfort in after Margot had ripped her heart to pieces. The sight of it now—after too much of it for days—made her nauseous. Claire stuck to wine, sipping it slowly while watching Margot. She looked like she’d been drinking already—like she was falling apart as much as Claire was.

  “I wish I could sit here and say that breaking up with you was a mistake, but that would be a lie. I had to break up with you—and, unfortunately, hurt you in the process—because of Inez. Because of what she made me feel.”

  Claire remembered the words Juliette had uttered as she’d left Le Comptoir earlier. Don’t let her break you all over again. Margot was the one who had instigated this talk, had wanted to meet in private. Claire already knew the reason why they’d broken up. Had Margot come to ask for permission to take things further with Inez, or something equally twisted? Claire let Margot continue uninterrupted though, as if she couldn’t help but hang on every word she said.

  “But, I’ve come to realise that what Inez made me feel, has not changed a thing about how I feel for you.” She reached for the glass of vodka, sipped and pulled a face. “I know I broke you. Fuck, I know. But I broke myself in the process as well.”

  Claire wanted to listen attentively, but every word Margot said started to sting a little more. “What are you trying to say? Either you’re with her or you’re with me. I thought this was all so simple.” Simple comme bonjour. “You were with me. She came back. You dumped me. The way I see it, thing
s really can’t be clearer.” A ball of fury came loose inside of Claire’s chest. “And if you’ve come to ask for forgiveness, excuse my bluntness, but you can stick it up your backside.”

  “I haven’t come for absolution, Claire. I—” Margot seemed to have trouble finding her words. “I didn’t break up with you because I wanted to get back together with Inez. I did it because—”

  “Have you slept with her?” A red mist descended on Claire’s brain.

  “I—I don’t think that’s relevant to this conversation.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Claire shook her head. “I’m beginning to think I had you all wrong from the start. All along, I believed you were this person with super morals, someone with integrity and purity, someone who, no matter the circumstances, would always do the right thing.” A tear dripped out of the corner of Claire’s eye. “Someone who wouldn’t hurt me, because you knew what that felt like. It made you careful and more principled. I loved that about you.” Claire wiped the tear from her cheek, frustrated that she hadn’t been able to keep it from raining down. “And look at you now. There’s nothing left of that person.” Claire straightened her shoulders. “But hey, my bad just the same. I wanted to believe that someone like you would exist and sweep me off my feet. I wanted the illusion so fucking badly, and you had me fooled.” She huffed out a breath. “But not anymore.” Surprised by her sudden strength, Claire sat up. “I take it back. What I said earlier about still wanting you.” She stared straight into Margot’s black eyes. “I don’t want you anymore. Go be with Inez. Tie her to your fucking bed for all I care.”

  “Claire—” Margot’s voice broke. “I didn’t come here…” All subsequent words stayed stuck in her throat as her eyes filled with tears.

  The sight of her, crumbling in the sofa, felt as if someone had found the plug and let all the air out of Claire’s short-lived bravado. But she could hardly say she was sorry now. Instead, she refilled Margot’s glass, adding more vodka and a splash of orange juice. “Drink,” she said.

  Claire watched Margot sip, her hand shaking heavily as she brought the glass to her lips.

  “It’s not easy to explain,” Margot said, before drinking again. “And yes, I slept with her, but—” She knocked back the rest of the vodka in one big greedy gulp, her shoulders shivering when she put the glass back down. “I still love you. That’s as simple as I can put it, although it’s much more complicated than that. But I still love you.”

  Despite those being the exact words Claire had wanted to hear, she was more perplexed than touched by them. Confused, Claire rose from her seat. “I’ll get us some water.” She sauntered to the kitchen and splashed some cold water on her face before grabbing a bottle of Perrier from the fridge. She took a deep breath and tried to re-enter the living room with a steady, confident gait.

  She poured them both a glass of water, sat down and said, “Explain it to me.”

  MARGOT

  Once again, this was not going according to the plan Margot had made in her head. Had she really thought she could just waltz into Claire’s apartment and tell her about her struggle with her feelings for her, as well as for Inez? If she kept this up, she’d end up with neither one of them. It would be exactly what she deserved.

  She chucked down the water Claire had poured, as if it could undo the cloudiness in her brain. Again, she knew better. Margot de Hay always knew better, always did the right thing, always had everyone’s back. As if she was immune to making mistakes and had somehow bypassed the most fundamental of human flaws—the ability to hurt other people.

  To top it off, Margot was not a talker. She could deliver a diagnosis to a patient because she’d been trained to do so, but this, this trying to put into words what was going on in her heart, it seemed as impossible as all of this having a happy outcome.

  “Would you consider giving me a second chance?” It was direct, perhaps rude, but in that moment, it was the only way for Margot to say it.

  Margot watched Claire’s jaw slacken. Was that a glint of hope shimmering in the darkness of her eyes?

  “You’ve got some nerve,” Claire mumbled. “I have to give you that.”

  The fact that Claire didn’t give an immediate negative response brought Margot some much needed clarity. “When I broke up with you, it was not my intention to get back with Inez. But I couldn’t be with you anymore, face you on a daily basis while struggling so much with seeing her again. It simply wasn’t right, Claire. It undermined us, devalued what we had together and that was the last thing I wanted.”

  Claire shook her head. “How about, instead of turning up here to deposit your key on my hallway cabinet—it’s still there, by the way—you had tried talking to me? You had opened up to me and told me what her return did to you?”

  “It would never have been the same.” Something inside Margot crumpled again, the way it had done when she’d witnessed how Claire had collapsed against the wall—when she had realised that nothing would ever be the same between them again, either way.

  “And it is now?” Claire gave a huff.

  “I guess I—” Margot looked into Claire’s eyes and knew she had lost her. It made her scramble for words again. “I need you to understand why I did it.”

  “And I need you to understand this.” Claire shuffled nervously in her seat. “I sat here for days waiting for you to return, hoping you’d magically appear in my doorway to undo what had happened, to admit that you had made a mistake and to beg me to take you back.” Her face tensed. “But even now, sitting across from me, having come back, you can’t even admit that you made a mistake.”

  “I’m—” Margot tried to say, but Claire talked over her.

  “I would rather suffer for months from this ridiculous heartache for a person who turned out to be someone entirely different than I thought, than give you another chance, and have you rip me to pieces again. I’m done, Go-Go. When it comes to heartbreak, I don’t go back for seconds. Unlike you.”

  Margot wondered what had happened to her. How she had ended up sitting across from a person she loved saying things like that to her. In that split second of Claire still having her eyes on her, her glance full of contempt, and the instant she looked away, Margot realised there was only one solution. She had to break all ties with Inez. Not go back to pretending she didn’t exist anymore, but move on. Untangle herself from this mess and start anew.

  She would end up with neither one of them, but Claire deserved better and Inez… Inez was the past. She’d known it after she’d gone to her flat that Sunday afternoon, on the way down, taking the stairs two-by-two to get out of there faster—running away from everything Inez stood for.

  “I understand.” Margot swallowed away a lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry and, yes, it was a mistake.”

  With the tiny bit of energy still left in her muscles, she rose from her seat and walked over to where Claire was sitting, crouching down beside her. “I truly hope you get over this quickly.” While planting a hand on Claire’s knee, she couldn’t keep the tears from breaking free. “I’m so sorry I had to do this to you. Believe me, I will never forgive myself.” Slanting her upper body, she pressed a kiss on Claire’s cheekbone. “I was foolish to let you go.” Had Inez not said the exact same words to her?

  Margot pushed herself up, cast one last glance at Claire, who just sat there, stunned again, seemingly unable to speak anymore. Wiping away most of her tears, she turned around and made for the door.

  She couldn’t leave the country because of her father’s weak health, but she could move to a suburb, like her sister, or a city close by. She was a good surgeon with an excellent reputation. Nadia would give her a cracking recommendation. She could easily get a job at another hospital. Leave this mess behind.

  STEPH

  Steph couldn’t believe she had actually counted down the hours. This time last year, she had made the most of summertime in Paris by strolling along the quays at Paris Plages, eyeing skimpily dressed girls—or sca
nning for prey, as Fred called it. This year, she found herself drawn more to spending time with Juliette and Nadia, absorbing their new-found happiness, than going on a binge with Fred.

  Dominique’s plane would land in forty-five minutes. For obvious reasons, Steph couldn’t turn up at the airport arrivals hall and surprise her—not that she hadn’t considered it.

  While she had feared that their holiday together would have been just another reality check, what with two small children running around the house and Steph feeling rather out of place, it had turned out to be the opposite. In fact, on her way back, Steph had found her reality vastly transformed. She didn’t get that crushing feeling in her gut anymore when Dominique spoke of the future. Steph had even talked about Didier and Lisa with her friends. The truth was that, despite barely recognising what her own life had become, she revelled in the unexpected joy of it.

  Ten years ago, when Laurence had ditched her, Steph had never set out to become the resident heartbreaker of the Parisian lesbian scene. She had just chosen to actively avoid any form of commitment. In the depths of her soul, she had never wanted to hop from fling to fling, let alone craved the loneliness that came with it, but it had all been collateral damage.

  In the end, what the girls at Les Pêches—and even her friends—didn’t see, was that she was the kind of person who needed years to recover from a break-up. Maybe it was a medical condition, an illness even, that made her suffer from the end of love so much more than anyone she knew.

  In that respect, Dominique had been a safe bet. Because, in theory as well as in practice, it simply couldn’t work. And now, somehow, it did. Maybe because Steph had finally shed the last sad remnants of her relationship with Laurence. Or maybe, quite simply, because Dominique was the single most irresistible woman Steph had come across in years. Perhaps even because for every person on earth there are only a few matches out there, and Dominique was one of hers, happening to cross her path when she was most receptive to it.