The ride back felt heavier than ever.
Grégory, eyes fixed on the road, stayed silent. His clenched hands on the wheel betrayed his nerves, while Angie, beside him, watched the passing landscape without truly seeing it. The silence between them was anything but peaceful. It was charged. Intense—the silence of two bodies still marked by a night they never should have shared.
They barely spoke until he dropped her off in front of her place.
"Thanks for… for the moment," he murmured.
Angie nodded, her fingers tightening around the door handle. She got out without looking back.
Inside, she stood for a long time in the entrance, arms folded. The emptiness of the apartment slapped her in the face. Nothing here felt real after what she had just lived. She felt dirty. Disloyal. And yet, part of her refused to regret what she had felt in his arms.
---
The next day, Jessica sent a message.
> Jess: Hey sweetie! Grégory and I would love to see you this weekend 🥰 Come over? It's been ages since the three of us just hung out.
Angie's throat tightened. She had no desire to see Grégory so soon after what they'd done. But saying no outright would look strange. Jessica might wonder. So she answered, carefully:
> Angie: All right… It'll do me good too. I'll be there Saturday morning. 😌
---
She spent the rest of the week dodging her thoughts, running from her emotions. Léo became her refuge. They saw each other every day in his studio. She lost herself in the shots, the laughter, the simplicity of their bond. Léo never asked anything too direct, but his gaze often spoke for him: he knew she carried a weight.
One evening, while she was flipping through contact sheets from a shoot, Léo offered to photograph her—truly.
"Let me see you. Not as a model. Just you. Tired. Fragile, maybe. Still beautiful."
She agreed. And under the studio's soft light, she let the mask fall. He captured her like that: real, stripped of artifice, wounded and radiant all at once.
---
Saturday came. Angie packed a small bag, heart heavy. At Jessica's door, she drew a deep breath before ringing.
Jessica opened with a wide smile and hugged her tight.
"I missed you! I got everything ready—movies, snacks, brunch tomorrow… And Grégory's here too, of course. He'll be happy to see you."
Those words rang like an alarm bell. Grégory. Here. Under the same roof.
Angie forced a smile.
"Glad to be here."
Grégory joined them in the living room, a beer in hand, looking relaxed. But when his eyes met Angie's, the intensity was anything but calm. She looked away at once.
"Hey, Angie. You good?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
Silence. Jessica noticed nothing. She was already laughing, handing out glasses, putting on music.
The evening dragged on—college memories, inside jokes, anecdotes. Grégory joined in, but every time Angie spoke, he watched her a little too long. She felt it. She burned inside. Yet she played the part to perfection.
Later, while they cleared the table together, their hands brushed. They both froze. The plates trembled slightly.
"You shouldn't be here," Grégory whispered, barely audible.
"And you?" she shot back under her breath.
"I wanted to see you again."
She stepped away without answering, a shiver running down her spine.
---
The next morning, after a restless night, Angie was getting ready to leave. Jessica met her at the door with a cup of coffee.
"Hey… You're spending a lot of time with Léo, huh?"
Angie's eyes widened a little.
"Uh… yeah. He helps me breathe, you know? I feel good with him. It's easy."
Jessica smiled.
"I'm happy for you. I think he cares a lot about you, you know. And I think you might be falling in love again, just a bit."
Angie lowered her eyes.
"Maybe…"
"Anyway, you two are cute together. Grégory says you've changed. He thinks you're… radiant. That's his word."
Angie's heart pounded. Radiant? The irony stung.
Jessica went on, innocent:
"He's a little distant these days. I don't know if it's work or me. But sometimes I feel like his mind is somewhere else. It scares me."
Angie put a hand on her arm.
"Jess, you're everything a man could hope for. If he's lost, he's the one who needs to find himself."
Jessica nodded, moved.
"Thanks for being here. Even when you're somewhere else, you always come back."
Angie hugged her, throat tight.
And in that sincere embrace, she felt more of a liar than ever.