12

Over time, I've learned that it's not her words that hurt the most, but rather the way she looks at me every time we see each other. A look filled with disappointment and resentment... I don't remember the time when his look shone with pride in front of his daughter. Maybe that era never existed? For years, I tried to understand why I was such a failure in the eyes of my mother.

I tried to attract his attention by being a turbulent and very curious little girl, then growing up I quickly became a reserved teenager, uncomfortable in my skin and the disdain that my mother had for me consumed me a little more each day. I then got it into my head that I had to win her love and affection. Excellence was therefore my driving force in high school and then in college. I worked day and night to be the best in all subjects and I succeeded.

At each class council, at each graduation, I was major. My mother then gave me a weak sneer that was surely meant to be a smile. And then one day, thanks to a blond tornado that quickly became my lifeline, I understood that you can't buy other people's love and that if my mother is so cold and distant with me despite everything my efforts, then the problem is hers and only she can defuse the situation. One day, when I feel strong and ready to face her demons, I will ask her why she treats me so little, her only daughter.

I feel my tears ready to overflow. As after each visit, I allowed myself to crack on the way back to let my pain explode. I have dried up my store of tears for the next month, I refuse to let them have the pleasure of lowering me a little more. I managed to chase away the black cloud that had settled in my head like after each of my visits and I will do everything to keep it from leaving me alone for the next thirty days. I refuse to think about this parental rejection, I refuse to fall apart again. I then take a deep breath, I gather all my strength, I straighten my shoulders and keep my head straight. I promised myself that I would never let them destroy me psychologically again.

He still hasn't called me. When he asked me for my phone number, I naively thought he was going to dial the ten digits right away and we'd spend the night on the phone. But we are no longer fifteen and the young girl in need of love who lies dormant in me is still expecting too much! I try to reason with myself but nothing works. If I told Cass about it, she would definitely say, "You have her number too, so why don't you call her?" Let it be clear, it is out of the question for me to take the first step! What if he had changed his mind? And if I was just one potiche among many others? And if I had made up ideas in myself imagining that maybe we were starting to build something? And if he had spent the weekend well surrounded? And if he...

While I get lost in assumptions all more alarmist than each other, the ringing of my phone brings me back to reality. And the reality is that the name that appears on my screen is none other than Gabriel. My heart then skips a beat and a hint of stress appears. A lump mixed with nervousness and impatience settles in my throat and I dread the sound of my voice when I pick up.

-H-hello...? As I had sensed, my unsteady voice trembles.

-Hello Candice...

Gabriel's voice is different from what I had imagined. I imagined a strong and protective man with a deep voice, perhaps even hoarse and slightly broken, but the reality is quite different. The sound that vibrates in my ear is soft and calm. I am troubled.

-Hello Gabriel.

I don't know what to tell him. At this precise moment, I feel like a fool who has waited for this call for two days and who loses his means when the time comes. Fortunately, he doesn't hold it against me and immediately strikes up a conversation.

-Did you have a good weekend? I imagine he was much calmer than if you had complied with my demands. You know we could have had a lot of fun if you'd let me?

I can't help laughing and my anxiety immediately vanishes. From the beginning, this man knew how to put me at ease without even knowing me and apparently, this ability he has to make me forget my worries works today as well.

"Your laugh is absolutely divine," he told me with a suddenly seductive voice. And your voice... I don't think I'm going to get over it!

- Well then, you don't need much! I barely said two sentences, and even worse, I was completely stressed!

-Listen my pretty, you have absolutely no reason to be stressed. I don't want you to be uncomfortable with me. We talk, we have fun and that's it, ok?

Why does that last sentence hurt me? We hardly know each other and yet I don't think I want to be the one we spend the time with, the one we have fun with. Me, I want to be the one you fall passionately in love with, the one who haunts a man's thoughts day and night. I know I always expect too much and too soon from men, but I can't help it. I am full.

I want someone who gives me all of him and vice versa, I want to lose myself completely in a relationship. I don't want to pretend anymore, I've done it too often before. Pretending to be fulfilled by a flat and sparkless relationship, pretending to be someone else to meet all the criteria of a man, pretending to live calmly when the only thing I dream of is explosion of sensations. But how to express all these expectations without frightening a man and being sure that he will not run away? It is simply impossible. So for the first time since I met Gabriel, I lie to him and I don't tell the bottom of my thoughts. For the first time, I measure my words and curb my desires. And that disappoints me, deep down.

-Yes of course. Don't worry, everything is fine, I answer trying to be as convincing as possible.

We continue to chat about this and that for more than half an hour before we end the conversation. When I hang up, I feel a jumble of conflicting feelings: joy and excitement are mixed with apprehension and a hint of disappointment. I don't know where this unexpected story will take me but I have to promise myself to try to live from day to day. Sacred challenge Candice!

Fortunately for me, my new job occupies a good part of my thoughts and prevents me from torturing my mind with sentimental equations impossible to solve. My first week has been intense and despite the almost hellish pace that I impose on myself, I am delighted to say that I love what I do. My taste for challenge and overcoming is satisfied, the sales team is very pleasant and the atmosphere particularly warm. Finally... if we hide the attitude of Mr. Archer. This man is a mystery, there is no other word.

On Thursday, he showed sympathy for me for the first time, and it was so startling and fleeting that I wonder if I was dreaming. But the intensity of our silent exchange and the shivers I feel just thinking about it are there to prove me wrong. If I'm totally honest with myself, I'm willing to admit that my boss's physique doesn't leave me indifferent. His stature and musculature give him a reassuring and protective side, but the fire that burns in his eyes attracts me as much as it frightens me. There's nothing angelic about his face and the confidence he exudes makes it even more exciting. The fantasy ends, however, when he opens his mouth to pour out his brittle and hurtful venom. How such a physical Apollo can turn out to be so despicable? How can the form be so appetizing when the content is so sadistic?

It's not the perplexity I feel about him that bothers me, it's what I perceive beyond this attitude. I don't know why or how but I'm sure I'm far from having figured out his personality. His attitude is more than complex but I have the impression to read in his eyes that it is only a facade. Anyway, real bad guys only exist in stories, right? Don't we all have a depth of humanity lying dormant in each of us?

Despite this rather optimistic conclusion - some would prefer to call it naïve - I still decided to avoid interactions with Mr Archer as much as possible. Our exchanges destabilize me too much. I therefore develop in my head a 3-step action plan, cleverly thought out:

1. Flee all opportunities to meet him

2. Stayed cloistered in my office

3. Never go into his office voluntarily, under any pretext.

Strengthened by her new resolutions, I am slowly regaining my self-confidence. I'm not going to let myself be confused by a man I've only known for two weeks! Boss or no boss, I refuse to find myself in this same state of tension every time I meet him. This situation does not bode well: either I will fail my file and be fired, or I will be at his... Stop! Unthinkable situation, ban on mentioning it.

As I wander, lost in thought, my phone alerts me to the arrival of a new message. When I consult the screen, a wave of anguish washes over me. The sender displays proudly and that doesn't bode well, trust my experience. Like a brave big girl, I tremble to open my mother's message and literally melt away when I discover its contents.

Mom: I forgot to tell you earlier, but you're on the guest list for my meal on December 25. Your presence is mandatory. Thanks.

What a charming invitation, full of love and joy! I can't wait to go to this convocation - I don't consider such a message an invitation - and to spend an awful day surrounded by my parents and my grandmother. With a bit of luck my aunt will be present to bring me a breath of fresh air in this poisoned atmosphere. She is the only person in my family with whom I get along quite well. This falsely cheerful family meal to celebrate a Christmas that has never meant anything to us depresses me in advance. And to complete this Sunday filled with good news, a reminder is displayed on my phone (that traitor!).

Reminder: Commercial meeting Monday 11/21 at 10 a.m.

I had completely forgotten about this meeting! My action plan will therefore be seriously jeopardized from its first day of execution because Mrs. Saint Martin summoned Marina and me to an exceptional meeting in the presence of Mr. Archer. Apparently Marina thinks she knows it's about the Dior case that I still don't know anything about. In addition to moving forward on the blue file, I will therefore have to go over the Dior project before 10 a.m. and then go and lock myself in a meeting room with my boss-to-avoid-at-all-costs. It's a beautiful day ahead! Maybe if I go to bed now, I could wake up Tuesday morning and forget that awful Sunday?