Page 65 of Je T'aime, Actually
Monroe smiled. “Of course you can. And we can FaceTime, and you can call me anytime you want.” She reached out, gently placing a finger under Kitty’s chin and lifting her face until theireyes met. “Me and you? We’ll always be besties. You know that, right?”
Kitty nodded, eyes still a little red, but clearer now.
“And I can come visit without Benji?”
Monroe laughed. “That’s something you’ll have to negotiate with your mum and dad.”
Kitty rolled her eyes dramatically and reached for her milkshake. “He’s not coming,” she declared, full of seven-year-old certainty, as if the matter had already been decided by royal decree.
Monroe grinned and raised her glass. “To solo visits and chocolate milkshakes.”
Kitty clinked hers against Monroe’s. “Besties forever.”
fifty-two
Frank lifted the large suitcase from the bed. “I’ll lug this down to the car,” he said, heaving it onto its wheels with a grunt.
“Thank you, Frank,” Monroe replied, casting one last glance around the room for anything she might have missed.
It didn’t really matter; she could always pick something up on a visit.
Her fingers lingered on the edge of the duvet, smoothing it down one final time. The bed was made, waiting for her return—whenever that might be. Then she remembered she’d be back in three weeks for Kitty’s birthday.
That thought made her smile.
As she left the room, her fingertips brushed the wall; a quiet goodbye as she pulled the door closed behind her.
“Got everything?” Poppy asked as Monroe came down the last few steps.
“I think so,” Monroe smiled. “And if I haven’t—”
“You can get it when you’re back,” Poppy finished for her, returning the grin. “Gonna miss you.”
“Me too.” Monroe pulled her friend into a hug. “But it’s only a few weeks. Think of it like I’m on an extended holiday.”
Outside, Frank was already rearranging the boot to make space, shifting bags and sliding the rear seats forwards.
“Careful with the emergency gin stash,” Poppy called out, earning a mock glare from Frank as he wedged the large suitcase into place.
Monroe stepped up beside them, her breath misting faintly in the cool morning air. She wrapped Poppy into another tight hug.
“Don’t cry,” she warned softly, though her voice trembled just slightly.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Poppy sniffed, holding her even tighter.
Monroe laughed, then turned and pressed a kiss to Frank’s cheek. “Thanks for being my muscle.”
He gave her arm a gentle pat. “Look after yourself, yeah? And don’t let those French lot think they can walk all over you.”
“I won’t.” Monroe smiled. “Youlottrained me too well. Plus, the French lot, so far, have been lovely.”
Then she opened the car door, slid into the driver’s seat, and exhaled slowly. She took one final look around—at the familiar street, the worn garden gate, the front windows she’d peeked out of a thousand times. Her whole life up to this moment felt like it was resting right there, behind her.
As she pulled away, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Poppy waved with both hands and Frank stood with one arm slung around her shoulders. Monroe didn’t look back again. She couldn’t. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the road ahead.
France was waiting.
So was Chloé.
