Chapter 112 112
Jacqueline began whistling under her breath, tilting her head back to stare at the sky as if it held the secrets of the universe. She tapped her foot casually against the pavement, forcing her posture into something cool and unaffected.
As if she hadn’t just noticed a towering man advancing toward her like a beautifully dressed executioner.
But really how was she supposed to stay calm when a giant who smelled like cinnamon and rain-soaked earth was closing the distance, his presence heavy enough to press against her lungs?
There was still a few steps between them when she finally pretended to “notice” him. She frowned slightly, brows knitting together in fake confusion. Then, as if a switch had flipped, her face brightened into a radiant, pearly smile.
“Oh, hi! So you finally decided to speak to me? I was starting to think you’d taken a vow of silence. Are you here to give me your number? Just in case you forgot, my offer still stands.”
The words spilled out of her in rapid succession, her hands moving animatedly as she talked.
“Honestly, you and my Thérèse would look so good together. She keeps asking about you. Nonstop. I’m pretty sure she’s crushing hard. And let me tell you, getting into a relationship with Thérèse is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Sure, she can be a bit of a pain sometimes push your buttons just to see you snap but she’s sweet. Deep down. And if you date her, you automatically get a free pass into our group.”
She didn’t stop for breath.
“I’ve told you before, but I’ll repeat it you’d be honored to join my gang. Imagine it. Two jocks in our circle. Very elite. Oh! And you were incredible on the field today. I don’t really understand the game much rules and all that but you played great. Didn’t Gilles mention the coach was doing selections today? So? Did you make it?”
She grinned widely, staring deliberately at his chest.
Anywhere but his eyes.
Those eyes were too intense. Too sharp. Holding his gaze felt like volunteering for interrogation.
Without a word, he dropped something at her feet.
A black plastic bag.
Her brows pulled together as she looked down at it, then back up
But he was already walking away.
No response. No reaction. Just his broad back retreating from her.
Weird.
She crouched slowly and opened the bag.
Her breath caught.
Inside was his uniform.
Clean. Unworn. Not even slightly damp with sweat.
Heat flooded her veins.
He had changed.
He had known.
He had completely, flawlessly outplayed her.
Mr. Frosty: two.
Jacqueline: zero.
Brilliant.
What could possibly sting more than watching your masterpiece of a prank crumble into nothing?
How had he figured it out? And worse how had he known it was her? The certainty of it unsettled her more than the failure itself.
Did he read minds?
Was he psychic?
God.
Mr. Loïc arrived shortly after, and she climbed into the car, stewing in silent frustration all the way home.
Julien was away on a business trip for the week, which meant it was just her and Mathieu in the house. Hélène had already prepared dinner and left earlier.
“Mathieu! Come down! Food’s ready!” Jacqueline called at the top of her lungs.
They rarely ate at the exact dinner hour. Tonight was no exception. She had reheated the food when they both felt hungry.
Mathieu came down the stairs, completely absorbed in his iPad, thumbs flying across the screen as he battled some invisible opponent.
He plopped into his chair without looking up.
Jacqueline calmly took the iPad from his hands and placed it on the table beside her.
“Eat first. Then you can conquer the world,” she muttered.
He whined but didn’t protest further.
They clasped hands and said a short prayer before beginning their meal.
Halfway through, Mathieu began rambling about a girl in his class his crush. Jacqueline listened with exaggerated disbelief.
God. Kids these days.
When she had been his age, she would’ve punched any boy who so much as smiled at her.
After dinner, she gathered the plates and headed for the kitchen. Mathieu followed, helping her carry things in. She washed the dishes despite knowing Hélène would scold her for it in the morning. Jacqueline didn’t mind. Sometimes doing chores felt grounding.
Mathieu climbed up onto the counter and sat there, swinging his legs idly.
“I think I miss her,” he said softly.
The words hit her like a sudden drop.
He didn’t need to say the name.
Their mother.
“Me too,” she replied quietly, turning off the faucet and drying her hands.
She turned to him.
He was staring down at his lap, but the sadness radiating from him was palpable. Jacqueline stepped forward and positioned herself in front of him. She cupped his soft cheek gently, tilting his face upward.
His big blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Jacqueline had inherited their mother’s warm brown eyes. Mathieu had Julien’s blue.
“Don’t be sad,” she whispered. “Mom’s happy up there with God.”
“How do you know?” he asked, blinking hard as a tear slipped down his cheek.
She smiled at him soft, steady, comforting and brushed the tear away with her thumb.
“Because she doesn’t have to see the ugly parts of this world anymore. She’s safe. No pain. No cruelty. No heartbreak. She’s in heaven where there’s nothing but peace and happiness.”
Mathieu sniffed, wiping his cheeks with his small hands.
“And she can see us from there,” Jacqueline added gently. “So don’t cry, monkey. If you cry, Mommy will get sad.”
She squeezed his cheeks playfully between her hands.
He groaned, swatting her away and clutching his now-reddened face. “It hurts!”
She laughed softly.
“Can’t help it,” she said with a grin, ruffling his hair.
And for a moment, despite everything, the house didn’t feel so empty.