All Chapters of Kiss me 2.1: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

144 Chapters

CHAPTER 31 — The Woman Who Returns Too Soon

ClaraI didn't knock.I came up like a stranger.But it's still me, here.Me, in this house.Me, in this life they started stealing from me without even asking if I was ready to leave.He hadn't locked the door.Of course.Because you lock a house when you're afraid someone will enter.Him, he's afraid someone will stay.And I stayed.In the walls.In the drawers.In his memory.In his silences.I go up. Barefoot.Not out of caution.By choice.I don't need to make noise to disturb.My presence is enough.The bathroom.The temple.It's here he told me I was beautiful when I wasn't.Here he washed my hair after my sleepless nights.Here he placed his hand on my belly when I doubted I was enough.And it's here she took him.I see it.He's there, soaking wet, leaning against the tile like an extinguished man.

Chapter 32 — The Echo of Silence

ClaraI hold my daughter gently against me, this small warm and fragile body sleeping peacefully, unaware of the tears of this world I am leaving once again, but this time, it's for good, or at least, I hope so. I go down the stairs silently, the walls seem to hold their breath, as if they know what is unfolding, I flee the glances, the unspoken words, the invisible wounds that bleed without scarring, I push the door open softly, feel the cold night air glide over my bare skin, this coolness like a cruel caress reminding me that I am indeed alive despite everything. I close the door behind me without a sound, and then I walk into the night, the darkness soft like a protective veil, a cloak that envelops and hides me, until I reach the neighbor's house, there where the walls have ears but no judgments, there where I can finally cry, without a mask, without restraint, without anyone seeing me fall apart.I feel her little fingers tighten around my neck, a child's reflex she always has w

Chapter 33 — The Ashes of Regret

ÉricI'm slumped against the cold bathroom wall, the hard tile biting into my skin, but I feel nothing other than this abyssal void that sucks me in entirely, this chasm swallowing my breath, my being, my will. My eyelids close as if to flee the incessant spectacle of Clara, her burning gaze, her screaming silence. This image is a blade planted in my mind, a poison spreading, a burn that will never heal.Jade is there, standing, straight, imposing, her silhouette dominates the room like a queen who controls her kingdom without concession. Her eyes are no longer just angry, they are hard, sharp, chilling. A fierce determination she unleashes without restraint, she no longer seeks to cajole, she commands, she dictates, she imposes.— Éric, she orders in a firm voice, get up. Look at me. You're going to forget Clara, you're going to choose me, and you're going to let her disappear, otherwise you'll lose everything we've built.I lift my head towards her, dazed, my heart beating heavily i

Chapter 34 — The Order of Silence

JadeI see him there, weakened, almost broken, prisoner of his own demons. Yet tonight, I refuse to let him fall, to let him drown in that past that devours him. Tonight, I will be his strength. His rock. His unwavering order.My steps are sure, decisive, while my hands gently brush his face, seeking to rekindle that flickering spark in his tired eyes. His breath is short, his shoulders tremble, but I leave him no escape.— Éric, forget everything, I murmur, all the gentleness of an order in my voice. Forget Clara, forget the pain tearing you apart, forget every whisper of that past gnawing at you. Tonight, you have only one mission: choose me, love me, lose yourself in me.I gently squeeze his wrist, leading him out of the bathroom, through the silent hallway. Each step we take resonates like an oath. His hesitations vibrate in the air, I feel his hands trembling, his heart pounding under my grip. But I don't let him retreat.The bedroom door closes behind us, the dimness envelops us

Chapter 35 — The Dawn of Promises

JadeThe sun gently filters through the curtains, depositing on our skin a golden caress, light and timid. The room is bathed in a soft, almost unreal light, as if the outside world waits in silence for us to catch our breath. A fragile truce, suspended between what was and what could be.I feel his warm body against mine, his steady breathing calming little by little, a familiar melody that rocks and soothes me. He still sleeps, peaceful, without the slightest trace of pain or shadow on his face. But I remain awake, prisoner of a cruel paradox: I savor this regained peace, while knowing it is as fragile as crystal about to break.Instinctively, I slide my fingers through his hair, a slow, tender, almost maternal caress. His breath accelerates imperceptibly, his lips part slightly, and a sigh escapes, soft, almost a murmur. This murmur, like a silent confession, reminds me that love, for him, is a difficult victory, a battle he fights against his inner dem

Chapter 36 — Water and Honey

JadeThe warmth of the bed still envelops me, like a gentle sea in which I could let myself drift for hours. Éric has already half-opened his eyes, and in his gaze shines that lazy light of mornings when you don't feel like getting up. His hair is disheveled, his smile still absent, but there is in the curve of his mouth and the slowness of his gestures a tenderness that anchors me.I pull myself up against him, place a quick kiss on his cheek, then on his jaw.— Come… he murmurs, his voice still sleepy, slightly hoarse.I let myself slide out of the sheets, but immediately I feel his hand brush my hip, as if he wanted to hold me back for a few more seconds in our cocoon. This time, it's me who gently pulls him, a smile at the corner of my lips.The bathroom is warm, already invaded by a soft steam as soon as the hot water begins to flow. Fog rises on the mirror, drawing blurred halos around our silhouettes. Éric draws

Chapter 37 — The Shadow and the Gleam

ClaraThree months.Three months of waking up early, swallowing black coffee in silence, putting on sober clothes and walking briskly to that office that smells of ink and fresh paper. Three months of filing, sorting, answering, smiling just enough. Three months of learning to breathe without feeling the weight of his hands on my wrists, without hearing that voice that cracked like an order.Work became my alibi, my refuge, my barrier. Every occupied minute is one minute less thinking about what he said to me, what he demanded of me. So yes, I put that story away in a corner of my head. Or rather, I covered the wound with a solid, tight bandage. Enough to function. Not enough to forget.But there are the evenings.And in those evenings, there is her. My daughter.When I come home, she runs to me with her little warm hands and round cheeks, telling me all at once about her snack, her drawing of the day, the teacher who praised her. I bend dow

Chapter 38 — The Splinter and the Void

ÉricThree months.Three months of believing we had found our rhythm, our breath, our own way of standing together against the rest of the world. Three months of sharing every waking moment, every late dinner, every stolen laugh under the shower. Three months of thinking her gaze was an anchor and not a fragile promise.Three months of falling asleep thinking that in the morning, she would still be there.And then that evening, she walked into the apartment with that expression… frozen. Not closed off, not angry. Just… distant. As if she had already placed an ocean between us.— We need to talk, she said.No kiss. No smile. Her keys already ready to go out again.I looked at her, still breathless from my day, with that stupid reflex of searching her face for a sign that I was mistaken.— What's going on?She didn't beat around the bush.— It's over, Éric.The word

Chapter 39 — Encounter

CLARALucas is there.And that alone is enough to make my heart change rhythm.I don't need to look at him to know he occupies the room as if it belongs to him. I feel it in the way the air becomes denser, in the sound of his steady steps on the parquet floor. I continue to fiddle mechanically with the cup between my hands, as if this small gesture could anchor me in something normal.— Slept well? His voice is low, neutral, but it seeps under my skin like a dull warmth.I look up, and there's that brief instant where our eyes meet. His dark irises are a mixture of assessment and… something else. Something that tightens my throat.I just nod. Speaking would require more control than I have.He approaches slowly. Just slowly enough for me to realize that each step reduces a little more the space I had between us. My breathing becomes too conscious. I think he knows it.— You look tired, he says, and he stops

Chapter 40 — Evening Behind Closed Doors

CLARATwo days.That's how long it took him to remind me that we "still hadn't had that dinner he'd mentioned." His voice, on the phone, was calm… too calm. Behind that neutrality, I thought I heard a slight smile, barely perceptible but enough to make me accept without thinking.And now, I'm here, in front of his door. Lila holds my hand, impatient. Me, I feel every beat of my heart in my temples.The door opens.Lucas greets us with a low, steady "Good evening," that brushes my skin like an involuntary caress. The air escaping from his apartment is warm, enveloping, filled with a scent of spices and polished wood. In the soft light, he wears a dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, and his gaze glides over us with that intensity he never masks.— Dad! exclaims Mathieu, bursting from the hallway.Lila laughs, and before I can say anything, she jumps into his arms. The two disappear almost immediately in a flow of words and lau

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