Cathy, I might be overstepping, but what are you planning to do with the apartment?
I don't know yet. Why?
No reason, I was just wondering. Since it's your parents who are paying for it now, right?
Yes, half of it. And on top of that they're letting me stay with them.
Do you think you'll ever go back there?
I don't feel like I have the courage.
Then why don't you give it up?
Because…
Because…?
Because it's the last thing that's left of us. That's why—and that's why I don't want to go back there anymore.
What do you mean, what's left of us?
I never really liked that apartment, but it was still our first place together. When you left, it hurt me a lot. When you came to get your things, it was awful to open cupboards and see them empty. I felt our relationship disappearing bit by bit. We didn't see each other anymore, we didn't call anymore. And when I received the contract, it was like a stab in the back—I really thought you were indirectly telling me that it was truly over between us. When I went back there with my mom, I felt like I could sense all the sadness of the place and relive that nightmare moment when I completely fell apart.
I'm sorry, I hadn't thought about that.
Going back there is impossible for me, but giving it up makes me feel like I'm the one erasing the last traces of our relationship and putting you away for good in the photo album of memories.
Okay, come here! You'll never be able to put me in an album—I'll always be here. I don't want our relationship to end. To change, yes. I don't want to relive what we went through—those arguments, the avoidance, those weekends or evenings alone—it was too hard. But I love you, Cathy. You're who I want to be with. Always.
But what if it happens again? What if we get swept away by everyday life once more?
It's up to us to be more vigilant this time. Now we're aware—we know what we went through—and besides, living together isn't on the agenda right now, is it?
No, not really.
Would you like us to try going to your apartment together?
Yes, maybe we should try. You're right.
I suggest we go on Saturday—just to ease into the idea, and no pressure. If you don't feel it, we won't go.
*********
Saturday, at the bottom of the building
How do you feel?
Strange.
How so?
I feel like I haven't been here in months—like an old flashback.
But do you want to go in or not?
Yes, but I'm scared. Hold my hand, please.
Here we are. Do you want to go in first?
No, you go first. I'll follow you.
SURPRISE!!!
Oh my God—what are you all doing here?
We all wanted to be here for this rather delicate moment for you.
Oh, thank you—but how… Marc, was this you?
Of course it was him. He called us during the week to see who could come and bring a bit of life back into this apartment—and here we are.
Do you like your new décor?
Wait, let me look at everything.
We didn't change the furniture, but the girls rearranged it…
…and added some little decorative touches and all these plants—it's lovely!
Do you like it?
Yes, it's wonderful. It doesn't look anything like before.
So, can we have a drink? We've earned it.
Thank you, Marc, for organizing all this. It's a great idea—it really means a lot to me.
You wanted happy memories in this apartment, so I thought we should make some new ones.
Alright, lovebirds, grab a drink. Cathy, have you gone to see your bedroom?
You redid the bedroom too?
The guys did that while we took care of the living room and cleaned the kitchen.
I wanted to set up a game console, but apparently, according to my wife, that's not something you do—sorry, Marc!
I refused to let him do that at home, so he tried it here.
Wow, it's really different—it's crazy how just moving the furniture around completely changes the layout.
You see? We did a good job!
It's amazing, I love it. And I don't think we'd ever all been together here before, right?
No, never—since Marc doesn't like me and Peter isn't very interesting, we avoided it.
Yes, Mel, that's true—but for Cath, we decided to invite you anyway!
And just so you know, you never really took the time to be interested in me either!
So, how do you feel in your new place?
Good—very good. I really like it.
Did everyone hear that? Alright, let's toast! And then, off to the restaurant!
*********
1 a.m., in the car
Phew, what a crazy night. It's been a long time since I've had that much fun.
That's great—that was the whole point. So where do you want me to take you now? To your car, to my place, or to yours?
I think I'm feeling tempted by my place.
That's nice—so you really like it?
Oh yes, I love everything you all did there. It was a great idea.
You didn't feel any sadness or think about painful memories?
No, nothing. And it's true—we'd never had a party or even a dinner in that apartment before.
No, we'd just forgotten to put some life into it, that's all!
Could you come to the apartment too?
Should I drop you off?
No—come and stay the night.
… uh… wow… okay, yes, that would really make me happy. Thank you.
**********
So, Marc, how's going back to work? Not too hard?
No, I'm happy to see the team again.
Well, hide your excitement! You won't be seeing her as much then, right?
Yeah, I think I got used to seeing her almost every day. We're going back to our usual routines—completely out of sync—so we'll have to stay vigilant.
But… how can I put this… it's good, you're back together again, right?
Hmm… not exactly, actually.
Oh hell, even after all these years, I'll never get used to this. But I thought after the party you went back to her place, and now you're telling me you've been seeing each other every day.
Yes, you're right, but we're not crossing the line…
You're not crossing the line? The line of what, exactly?
Well… going further than just spending time together—at best holding hands… okay, okay, I realize I sound completely ridiculous when I see your face, but we don't dare.
Marc, do you remember that you dated for several months, slept together, lived together—and now you're acting like a couple of twelve-year-olds?
That's it! Yes, we're twelve—good catch!
Have you told her how you feel?
She knows I love her, I told her, but…
But…
But I'm still afraid of going too fast, of pushing her like I did with the apartment. I don't want to lose her a second time—I can't. And…
And what?
I saw a text I shouldn't have seen.
A text? From who to who?
From Hugo to Cathy. She went to get her coat and a message came in, so I saw it before it disappeared.
And what did it say?
"OK for tomorrow, 2 p.m., kisses."
I get it. What did she say?
What do you mean, what did she say? Are you kidding? I didn't even bring it up!
And there you go—same old story: things left unsaid, "I think," "I thought"… Did she see that text?
Yes—when she was leaving, she looked at it and turned her phone off. So clearly she didn't want to talk about it.
So you think she's seeing him today and didn't tell you.
It's not that I think—it's that right now, at this very moment, she's with him.
And you're imagining things.
Or maybe not.
Alright, so the simplest thing is: tonight you tell her you saw the text, that you've been uncomfortable since, and that you'd like to know what's going on.
Yeah—and become the annoying guy again, the one who doesn't trust her, who checks up on her, when we haven't even kissed yet. Great!
So you're going to stay like this until you lose it and dump everything on her in two weeks.
I don't know.