All Chapters of Kiss me : Chapter 281 - Chapter 290

ÉliseThe day stretches on, endless.Every minute becomes a torment.I take care of the baby. I prepare meals that no one touches. I clean surfaces that are already clean.I'm suffocating in this house.Julien avoids me, but his eyes constantly seek me out.Our glances meet. Flee. Find each other again.Every exchange, every silence is a burn.Camille, for her part, drifts around us, as if she senses what's brewing beneath the surface without yet being able to put a name to it.She speaks little. Observes a lot.And this weight, this leaden blanket, pins me to the ground.The afternoon drags on.Camille is asleep in the living room, the baby against her.I watch her, my heart in my throat.She's so gentle, so vulnerable.And I'm there, a monster lurking in the shadows.Her mother.The woman who betrayed.JulienI see her.Élise.Beautiful enough to die for.Fatigue makes her even more real, more raw.I don't sleep anymore.I don't eat anymore.I want her.I want only her.Camille look

JulienDawn broke without a sound, as if the whole house were holding its breath.I’m here, motionless, my elbows on my knees, my empty gaze lost on an invisible spot in the living room. The room still holds traces of the night: the smell of burnt wood in the extinguished fireplace, half-empty glasses abandoned on the coffee table, and the silence — a silence so heavy it crushes my chest.Camille spent the night locked in the guest room. I heard her sobbing, then nothing more. Not a sound, as if she had frozen in that pain that was forced upon her. She understood. She saw. She knew.And I stayed there, at that door, unable to knock. Unable to tell her what I feel, what I’m living through. What I’ve become.I turn my head. She’s still sleeping, Élise. Or maybe she’s pretending. She’s curled up on the sofa, a thin blanket clumsily pulled over her shoulders. Her face is pale, marked by hours without sleep and the tears she no longer has the strength to shed. Her beauty hits me like a pun

CamilleThe silence devours me. It seeps in everywhere. It spreads, covers me, consumes me. And I remain here, motionless, in this living room now too big, too empty. They left. Without a backward glance. Without an explanation.The door still slams in my head. That sharp, definitive sound. I thought she would come back. That my mother would turn around, would open that damn door crying, would collapse at my feet. But no. Nothing.The bag she had placed there, in the hallway, is gone. Her jacket too. She took everything… except me.I want to scream, but my throat is tight. Nothing comes out. Even my tears seem to refuse to fall. So I walk. Like an automaton. I go up these stairs I know by heart, each step creaking under my weight. Yet, tonight, everything feels foreign.The bedroom. The one she slept in. The one where she lied. Where she slipped into his arms.The door is ajar. As if taunting me. I push it gently. The smell hits me. Hers. Her cream. Her perfume. And then… him. That na

CamilleI get up. I pace. The house is becoming a prison.I can't stand this silence anymore. Nor the echo of their footsteps my mind insists on recreating in every room.I take the phone. I dial his number. Julien's.One ring. Two. Three.I hang up.What do I want to hear? His hoarse voice? His apologies? Or worse… his silence?I collapse on the cold tile floor.They left me alone with the fruit of their betrayal: this child. Innocent. He too a victim of what they did.---JulienI feel her gaze on me. Élise doesn't dare speak. She's waiting. For me to speak. To decide.But I have no strength left.— I'm going out… To get some air…She nods without answering. As if she knew we might not see each other again. That one more step into this night, and everything would be over.I go out.The air is freezing.I look towards the horizon. Over there, in that house I left, she's surely crying. Camille.And for the first time, I wonder if what I took was worth what I destroyed.---The days st

ÉliseThat’s all I can find to say. I could scream, yell, cry. But only this void would remain between us.He gets up abruptly, the chair screeches, tears the air. He paces the room like a caged beast.Julien — “Do you think she sleeps at night? Do you think she holds that kid against her and forgets? I don’t forget, Élise. I don’t forget anything.”Élise — “Do you think I forget? Do you think I look at myself in the mirror without dying of shame?”I stand up too. I’m trembling. My whole body vibrates with this dull rage that no longer knows how to get out.Julien — “You carried her like a friend, you cradled her, your daughter. And you ended up betraying her.”His words snap, atrocious, unbearable.I stagger. The blow is low. But he’s right.Élise — “And you, Julien? Do you want to talk about what you did? About what we did? Because we did it together, don’t forget.”He freezes. And in his eyes, I read everything. Fear. Hatred. Desire too, always there, nestled in the pain.Julien —