Page 72 of The Substitute Fiancée

He pauses.

“My parents aren’t like yours, Sam. Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that…”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

I rest my hand over his. His parents, Madeleine and Romain, have always been kind to me, even though I haven’t seen them much these past few years.

I lower my eyes to my pizza.

“Do you really want me to come?”

Sensing my insecurity, he abandons his slice and stands, pulling me into his arms. He turns my chair so I’m facing him.

“Of course I want you to come. Do you still need me to say it?”

“Yes.”

I answer without shame, lifting my eyes to his.

“I want you to tell me. Every day.”

I take a breath.

“I’m not afraid to admit it, Alexander. I’ve felt rejected my entire life. I don’t need you to stand on my own. I know my worth. But I need you to tell me when you want me to come. And when you’re happy to see me, I need to hear it.”

His gaze softens. He kneels in front of me so we’re at eye level, cradling my face in his hands.

“I want you to come. I want you here, by my side.”

He looks straight into my eyes.

“There’s no one I want more by my side than you.”

That night, we make love slowly, without urgency. Afterward, he cleans me with careful, almost tender gestures, then pulls me close. I curl against his chest and fall asleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

*

The next day, we have breakfast facing each other in the kitchen, both dressed casually. He’s in jeans and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, I’m in a wool wrap top and yoga pants.

“I need a live model this week.”

He tenses immediately.

“You want to bring a model… here?”

He doesn’t refuse, but the idea puts him on edge.

I suddenly understand everything it awakens in him. Kristel. Grégoire. The betrayal.

“I’ll find another solution,” I say gently.

He hesitates. Then a mischievous smile lights up his features.

“I’ll pose for you.”

I sit up straight, surprised.

“Are you serious?”