My mood is as blue as the azure sky. The cry of a gull is the lament in my heart, and the breeze is the caress of a former lover. There is plenty of time to dwell on my regrets.

I am a fool again, and it is no accident - it is a habit.

Putting down my pen, I look back at “still naive”.

Taking my empty plate, Mamon Seguine’s warm smile creases her kindly face. The lunchtime clientele has melted away, and it is peaceful again. Two elderly gentlemen sit at a distant table, and the tap of dominoes can be heard over the rustle of leaves. The scent of pipe tobacco comforts me, reminding me of my grandpapa.

All my anger is meaningless when I cannot trust myself, it solves nothing. What did I expect? Not this when I was younger, so idealistic and full of hope. This was no love story between us, and I sigh. It was convenience, a raging curiosity, two lost souls finding a common purpose. Oh, Lisette, you made your choices, they are your mistakes to make. I must make mine. I need tenderness and affection, and there are no shortcuts. There is no path to travel at all because all this hurt leaves its scars. I am stuck and caught between two worlds as a romantic at heart, yet this is an uncaring world. My family that remains is scattered to all corners of France. I will decide where to live next, but not Paris, my sister lives in Nantes, and it is very tempting.

Another vacant gaze devours more time, interrupted by a scuff of shoes on cobblestones. It draws my attention to a silhouette. In a wide-brimmed hat, her gait is slow and measured. It is ridiculous; my hope is exhausted, and I cannot keep pining for Lisette. Ambling in the shade, the woman removes it and fusses over her mane of unkempt hair.

I am dead; this is not real.

The two old men halt their game and stare at her. In a linen peasant dress, it sways with her hips, and her alabaster skin shines in the Mediterranean light. Removing my sunglasses my hand quakes, and I can taste my anxiety.

There is nothing in Lisette’s expression. “Hello.”

There is nothing in mine either. “Hello.”

She places her raffia shoulder bag on the table, pulls out an envelope, and hands it to me. I recognise the script immediately. Reading it, the letter trembles in my hand. The final flourish of the pen fills me with horror, and I drop it like it is on fire.

Madame Valery co-signs it.

Lisette, what have you done!

I am alarmed, “How did you know I was here?”

“You left a forwarding address with Sabine for your termination papers.”

“So, you travelled hundreds of kilometres to deliver this?” My tone is hostile. “Why?”

Lisette does not flinch, and she drags the opposing chair out to sit on it. I cannot hide my disgust.

Mamon Seguine approaches.

“A cognac for me, thank you.”

I glare at Lisette.

“I will have the same.”

Mamon Seguine leaves, and I cannot look at Lisette. In the clear blue skies, there are thunderclouds between us.

“Simone Noiret.” She tries to fake quiet dignity.

University business and I cast my eyes to the heavens. “Really?”

“Her nudes went around the University. I found them and more on Raphaël’s phone.”

Disappointed, I nod at the letter, “What does that have to do with this?”

“I met Sabine and showed them to her. She wanted to expel him.”

“Pfft, are you still fixated on revenge?” I lean back, unamused. “Or is this another game you and Raphaël concocted?”

“No!” She blazes into my eyes, “I told you. He knew what you were to me before Saturday. He got into my phone.”

I do not trust her.

Lisette’s eyes narrow. “He could not help himself. He bragged that he got rid of you and broke up your relationship with Pascal... and with me. What I found on his phone made me next on his list.”

“I do not believe you.”

“There was no conspiracy,” she mutters, wounded.

Lisette pushes her phone across the table, “I took a picture of this.”

I peer down. It is an exchange of messages between Raphaël and Pascal.

I am just a piece of meat to them.

Trying to hide my anger, I shake my head.

“Pfft, are you fixated on revenge?” Lisette mocks me.

I point at the letter, and I will not touch it. “This is a reference sponsoring my application for an associate professor position at Nanterre University. It is signed by Sabine and Raphaël’s mother.”

“I know.”

Floored momentarily, I dig my heels in. “I have made no application. I am not going back to Paris.”

My words hang in the air, polluting it. Lisette’s head stoops when Mamon returns with our drinks. Her presence does not defuse the tension, and she leaves.

I am unimpressed, and Lisette’s features crumple. “I did this for you. Sabine said the position is as good as yours.”

A tear wells in her eye, and she will not brush it away. It is there, clawing at my concrete heartstrings, twisting my insides.

“I owe the Deveraux nothing. I resigned for a reason.”

Blinking, Lisette frees it to run down her cheek.

I lean closer, “What do you want me to say? Yes? Then what? Hello, Professor Blah-Blah. I am the bitch that fucked two students in a ménage à trois. I committed adultery with Pascal Deveraux. Yes, that Deveraux. I want to be an associate professor here.”

“Anaïs…” Her voice breaks, “I want you to come back. I… I never explained how I feel about you.”

Another tear falls down her cheek, and more well up.

“Tomorrow never comes, Lisette.”

Dissolving before me, I cannot bear to watch and bolt my cognac. She weeps, not because of Raphaël but because of me. We become what we hate.

Raphaël has won, and I do not care.

“Please, Anaïs. I have missed you terribly, and you do not answer my calls.”

For five days, hemmed in by thick walls built from hurt and pride, I can feel a crack inside. What stopped me from crying is weakening. Lisette is the physical manifestation of how I feel. Even now, she has more courage than me to show her feelings.

What have I become? Fear conquered my optimism, my hope… my youth.

Wiping her eyes, she takes her phone and squints at it.

“No signal,” she mutters.

“Why do you need to make a call?” I fear she will leave in a taxi.

“You… you need to speak to Sabine. She understands.”

Lisette asks for a lot. My legs are weak as I rise from my chair, and from her expression, she looks like I might abandon her again.

“Come.” I fold some money under the glass ashtray. “You can get a signal a little higher up from here.”

-=-

We did not utter a word along a meandering path of worn stone steps. The louder chirping of crickets indicates our distance from the village. From this outcrop, above the tree line, I stare blankly at the shimmering sea. It is two skies, one on top of the other, and in the haze, they merge. I loved this view as a little girl, but now, I feel nothing.

It strikes me hard. I am nothing.

“Yes?” I ask.

Lisette nods and places the phone in my hand.

“Listen to her,” she pleads. “Please, Anaïs.”

I frown, “Why?”

“For us. Put it on speaker.”

I am reluctant and shake my head.

“Trust me,” she offers with pleading eyes, and I relent.

The burring noise indicates a connection.

“Hallo, Sabine Deschamps. Lisette?”

“Yes. I found her.”

There is a pause for a moment, and I expect the worst of Sabine’s displeasure.

“Ah, good! Anaïs?”

“Yes, I am here.”

I can hear the scratching noise of a cigarette lighter, “Okay, now, do something for me. I know you find this difficult.”

I am confused, “What?”

“Shut up and listen.”

My face is etched with a sour demeanour, but I grant her wish. “Okay.”

By the time of my Monday lecture, my absence was the day's gossip. When Sabine stepped in, she confirmed my resignation to the class. Afterwards, Lisette approached her. Knowing I had warned Sabine about Raphaël, she came prepared and showed her the pictures of Simone Noiret found on his phone. Simone left her course and the University as a humiliated emotional wreck. Lisette feared similar treatment.

I gave no reason for my resignation; how could I? So Sabine drew her own conclusions.

“I know you tried to warn me, Anaïs.” The sound of Sabine’s contrition does not suit her. “I had no proof.”

I did not want her to apologise as we negotiated this fine line between truth and lies.

“Well?” asks Sabine.

“So what happens next?”

“You have the letter, yes? It is restitution and all I can offer you.”

I snort with derision, “Why did Madame Valery sign it? I owe them nothing.”

Blackmail is so much more efficient than revenge. For her signature, Raphaël could leave rather than face expulsion.

There is a pause for the grinding noise of her lighter again, “He is gone, but Madame Valery does not want you anywhere near the Sorbonne. She made lurid accusations about you, and even if they are lies, I have the reputation of the University to protect.”

I can hear her smoking.

“Anaïs, I do not care if they are true or not. That was her condition. She needs to deal with her son…  disgusting creature.”

“And Nanterre University?”

“Anaïs, I am not finished.”

My sigh is the sound of her luck being pushed. “Okay.”

“All Nanterre University will know is the gravity of your sponsorship. This is why she signed it. I have spoken to the Director, and she is keen to have you on her staff. You will submit your application to the Director of Humanities and Languages by ten o’clock next Tuesday, yes?”

It is always darkest before dawn, and my self-reliance is my protector.

“Anaïs?”

“Yes.”

“Will you apply?”

My best friend, my fiancé, and Pascal betrayed me. I can feel the depths of my loneliness and have for months. Fate and destiny are two different things. I chose destiny and faltered. Last week, we had a plan… our destiny - it was Lisette's, too.… I believed her. No one can fake that. The tears in Lisette’s eyes are unbearable. No one would do all this if they did not…

“Anaïs?” rasps Sabine.

“Yes, I will apply.”

“Thank you… thank you,” Lisette whispers as if a colossal burden is lifted from her.

I can hear a cigarette being stubbed out. “A wise decision. This is yours to fuck up, do you understand? When you are back in Paris, you call me, yes? Call… me. We have much to talk about.”

“Sabine. Thank you, sincerely.”

“Oh, and Pascal Dubois, otherwise known as Pascal Deveraux?”

My heart sinks, “Yes?”

“He came to see me to complain about you. I was very displeased. It has not been a good week for him, explaining his behaviour to his wife and sister. A handwritten letter to the Trustees, Anaïs? Well done.”

“Oh, okay,” my relief is palpable. “Sabine… I cannot thank you enough.”

I can hear a dismissive sigh, “It is nothing. But it is good to be appreciated. Ciao, ciao.”

“Ciao, ciao.”

Disconnected, I hold out Lisette’s phone to return it.

Tears stream down her cheeks. “This is now. You must live, feel, and cling to it.”

Sylvia Plath – I taught her well.

“The words you never said on Saturday?”

She nods, “But I cannot imagine a future without you.”

I pull her into my arms, taking comfort in her warmth and perfume. Weeping together, I squeeze her tight as my pent-up anguish drains from my soul. I am not alone, I never was.

“I am sorry, Lisette, truly.”

“So am I for dragging you into his. Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

-=-

A zephyr breeze flaps the muslin curtains. From the madness, we are as tranquil as the birds that sing in the stone pines and as pure as the blue sky. We rattled the brass bed and burnished its polished metal with our sweaty hands. Gripped for purchase, we took what we needed. Heightened emotions spiced our uninhibited contortions, undaunted to reveal everything, provoking all our senses. Every pore is sated. I ache and glow, feel each breath and see every detail, from the cracked stucco plaster to the endless pattern of the bedspread and the worn veneer on the pedestal.

I wish I had more energy and time to describe my feelings towards her. The echoes on my tingling skin, the dull ache of my sex, and a caress of air spices my sensitive nipples. I bear the exertions of her kisses and her touch; the vivid memories of sublime pleasure still lift the fine hairs on my forearms.

My breasts heave for the gifts Lisette bestows upon me. We are hot, glistening with perspiration, and our bodies slide against each other like wet silk. Her gaze flickers from my lips to my eyes with a hesitancy I want to banish forever. Our long hair is lank as Lisette sweeps mine from my face.

She sighs as my finger traces a line over her naked body. It follows the mound of her breast, skirting its ripe pink nipple, and doubles back because it is my prerogative to tweak it. She murmurs with contentment, conveying her abject need into my mind. I understand her expression from the thousands she can create.

We roll, and for now, she lets me take charge. I find the boldest curve, the bottom of her ribcage, and she flinches. I know she is ticklish, and I know she is highly aroused. She burns into my eyes as my caress takes the longest route, toying with her piercing, meandering over her hip at the cusp of her mons. Lisette nibbles her lip and lingers on mine.

To think, my last memory of her like this is not my final one. We will make more today and tomorrow. This is a blessed second chance, and everything I have, every thought and emotion, is for her. Yet, I tease her, such is my contempt, and I am playful as she exhales the softest caress of all. Those weighted eyelids narrow, and the helplessness she portrays is my potent aphrodisiac.

Panting, she has to swallow, “One more…”

I nod, smiling, as the strength of her diction fades and the distant seagulls cry as a serenade. We were sated hours ago, and she looks upon me, not lost but found. There is no more curiosity; we are beyond experimentation. We revel in its meaning and purpose, for the emotions it inspires, and we know this nourishes something spiritual. To lose something precious makes finding it again priceless.

The vacuum of my lips petitions hers to open. Four feathers descend over Lisette’s softest skin, edging close to that fiery heat and slippery essence. Two digits breech her folds and slide into her confection. Taut and sensitive, a sudden arch of her back melts into the slow sighs of pleasure until my devilish thumb smears her stiffened button.

I devour every nuance, watching how she floats on that sea of honey, adrift in the haze of golden sunshine. She is flushed, and her rosy cheeks dimple with a febrile grin. I wipe it from her face, ever watchful, and her eyes as slits convey the oncoming rapture. She pouts, and I will sully their perfection with a kiss and make her buck to meet the waves. So vivid on my squirming fingers, she bears down on them with that taut fleshy heat, over-sensitive and alive. I can never remember this sensation, and I want to, so we will do this again and again… and again.

Lisette gasps, her chin pointing skyward, showing me what it is like to be free, without guilt, with an infinite desire, clamouring for what happens next. I want her with all my heart, and as her eyes flicker for a moment, my thumb chases her clit as a slippery fugitive.

She sighs, sliding her fingers between mine, panting with upturned eyes. She clutches my hand to give her response its meaning. My body upon hers weighs it down. My other hand dips, her sex breached by my thumb, her ass with my finger; I remind her it is mine. She snatches a sharp breath, purring with approval; I will not impose that on her again… today. It is no longer unsullied. Earlier, I lapped at her sex, fingering her ass, and she convulsed in a shrieking climax that rendered her untouchable, flailing as a fish denied water.

Now, she gasps with wider eyes as my insistent thumb taunts her pearly white clit and its hood. Lisette has bucked her last for today. No more contortions of our limbs, locking our lips together, sucking, nuzzling, with energetic tongues. I can taste her now as she ascents to the summit.

No more straining for leverage, our knuckles white in a mechanical push-me pull-me for the big one. We will not writhe again, mashing our cunts together, until Lisette hollered for her maker. Seething and quivering as its potency condemned me, too.

Lisette stretches out at her most intimate and beautiful. Her heat wraps tight around my fingers and squeezes. Her leg trembles, fluttering as a butterfly’s wings, as a rigidity seizes her delicate body. I hope she sees my adoration for her when she expires with a final gasp. Exalting her body to arch, quivering until she slumps motionless, and her cries only echo in my mind.

We rest in silence in the muggy heat perfumed with the musk of sex. There are many lies in this world and plenty of liars. Placing my lips on hers, I find the only source of truth that matters to me.

Lisette.

-=-

Gazing out the window, the chalky terroir and neat rows of Provence grapes blur into a slower-moving landscape of verdant hills. A distant car drives along a tree-lined lane, and I wonder where they are going. I hope their destination is more certain than mine.

We are not angels, and I must learn to forgive myself, and perhaps others… in time. Did Lisette and I do the right thing? No. Vengeance was not the solution. In mitigation, it was not a sense of justice or morality that drove us; it was the hypocrisy.

Who made the Deveraux moral arbiters? Are they generous philanthropists? Yes, but at what price? Are they willing to trample on anyone who gets in their way? Probably. Do they have a strong sense of self-preservation to keep what happened a secret? Absolutely.

I did not know Pascal was married and Raphaël Valery was a sociopathic menace. Worse, he played the submissive to destroy two women, and that is fucked up. He is gone, good riddance. I have precious few morals, but marriage is a sacrament. A consequence of my strict Catholic upbringing.

And Sabine? We will meet, and I have more in common with her than I imagined. Maybe I have a new friend, a prickly, no-nonsense, yet kind-hearted person. She is more like me than I would admit to Lisette. I think she already knows, though.

Am I perfect? No. Lisette thinks I am. Do I deserve this? No. Lisette thinks I do. She dozes, and my hand rests on hers. I squeeze it, and she squeezes mine back.

Purring, she nestles in closer. In all our time together and the precious two days in that village - this is what she taught me. Happiness comes from within, for yourself and those around you. I want that for us.

I never planned for.. or expected this. There is a powerful truth, a wavelength, a symbiosis. It scares me, and I am easily frightened. Yet, this is what she does – she inspires me to be a better person. No one else makes me feel this way, and I know no one ever has. Now, that is worth fighting for, worth clinging to.

Today, we share what we mean to each other. We are fallible, human, with the power to forgive, and share our feelings and emotions. We want someone to share our triumphs and our failings with, we need someone who truly understand us.

That… that is all I ever wanted, and so does Lisette.

Today, I told her, and she told me.

We are falling in love.