Semua Bab The Revenge of One Humiliated: Bab 131 - Bab 140

ÉlianorThe snow has stopped falling by the time I get home, leaving behind a white blanket that covers everything. The roofs, the trees, the garden, Marcus's little house. Everything that was there before, everything that will be there after, everything that is there now. In this muffled silence, this soft light, this suspended time, this moment out of time when I set foot on the threshold, when I open the door, when I hear the laughter, the shouts, the sounds of life. My life. The life that goes on. That goes on despite everything. Despite Sabrina. Despite the lies. Despite the secrets. Despite the crimes. Despite everything that should have destroyed us, broken us, annihilated us. And that didn't. That didn't succeed. Because we are here. Because we are together. Because that's what family is. It's not blood. It's not papers. It's not lies. It's those who stay. Those who hold on. Those who love. Those who don't leave. Those who don't flee. Those who don't betra

I take the playdough. I make a castle, a house, a garden, a family. A family with a daddy, a mommy, children. Children who run, who play, who laugh, who live, who are happy, who are loved. Who are everything one could possibly be best at in the world. And I look at them. Marcus, Léon, Lola. I look at them and I tell myself that this is life. This is what must be protected. This is what matters. This is what gives meaning to all these battles, to all these lies, to all these truths discovered too late. This is what makes you get up in the morning. Fight. Win. Lose. Start over. Hope. Believe. Love. Love enough to stay. To not leave. To not run. To not be afraid. To not doubt. To not hide. To not forget yourself. To not forget everything that matters. Everything that is worth it. Everything that deserves to be fought for, to be stayed for, to be loved for, to be lived for. "It's beautiful," Marcus says, looking at the castle, the house, the gard

 MAYOR ÉlianorMy phone vibrates, it's Marcus, it's always Marcus, he is the one who is there, who is always there, who waits for me, who hopes, who loves, who does not leave, who does not flee, who does not judge, who does not ask me what I am doing, who does not ask me why I am doing it, who does not ask me if it is right, if it is just, if it is what I truly want, he is just there, present, patient, loving, and I do not answer, I cannot answer, not now, not when I have just destroyed a life, not when I have just done what I have always done, what I have been doing for six years, destroying, annihilating, erasing, everything that hurt me, everything that wounded me, everything that broke me, and which will never give me back what I lost, what I left behind, what I abandoned, that girl I was, the one who still believed that life could be beautiful, that love could be true, that happiness could exist.The hours pass, the news breaks,

MarcusI watch her from the window of my little house, I watch her cross the garden, I watch her walk towards her house, I watch her wear that mask of ice she puts on for the world, for others, for herself, that mask that says she fears nothing, that she feels nothing, that she needs no one, and that hides a woman who is afraid, who is suffering, who needs to be loved, to be protected, to be held, to be told that everything is fine, that everything will be fine, that everything is good, because she is here, because I am here, because we are here, together, at last, after all these years, after all these lies, after all these fears, after all these flights.I join her in the garden, I walk towards her in the snow that has started falling again, in this grey January light, in this silence that envelops us, that isolates us, that shelters us from the world, from its rumors, from its fears, from its judgments, and I stop in front of her, I look at her, I look at her with her eyes that shy

MarcusI bring Léon home, I hold him by the hand, I watch him walk beside me, his little legs treading through the snow, his little hands in mine, his little eyes shining, shining from having been understood, defended, loved, and I tell myself that this is it, being a father, it's not giving your name, it's not signing papers, it's not taking DNA tests, it's being there, it's showing up when you are needed, it's defending you when you are attacked, it's telling you that you did the right thing when you had courage, when you had heart, when you have what it takes to be a man, a real one, a man who fights for those he loves, who fights for what is right, who fights for what is true, who fights for what is beautiful, who fights not to let others destroy, humiliate, break, what deserves to be protected, defended, loved."You came," Léon says to me, looking up at me, squeezing my hand a little tighter, walking a little closer, breathing a l