IS LOVE ELSEWHERE ?

- Mrs. Joana Vanessa, do you take Mr. Conti Ken as your husband, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?

Here we are at last in the lovely town hall where we grew up. The best day of my life is today. Everything is perfect, family, friends, sunshine and above all... love!

- Yes, I want it!

My hands are sweaty, my teeth are chattering, my heart is beating in my chest and to reassure myself, I look for my future husband's eyes. But, he must be even more stressed than me, because he looks at the ground with a dejected air.

- Mr. Conti Ken, do you agree to take, Mrs. Joana Vanessa here, from the ai....

- STOP! Stop it! Please, stop.

Oh my god... wake me up! Please let me be in a nightmare about my wedding ceremony. I run my wet hands over my face to rub it, to wake up, to erase this horrible situation. Then, hesitating, I raise my head and... the same people are standing in the room, with one exception, their faces are livid. As for Ken, he avoids my gaze and big tears roll down his cheeks. What to do in such a moment? I want to shout, to cry and especially to harass my future ex-husband so that he explains me, why. I must pull myself together and keep the little dignity I have left.

- Let's go out right now Ken! Come on, move!

Astonished by my reaction, he carries out my directive without a word. Walking next to people dear to our hearts to reach the exit door is a real torture for me, so much so that I dare not cross their eyes. Once in the open air, I fill my lungs with this soft spring breeze and take my courage in both hands to question this traitor of Ken. His sheepish and grieved air amplifies the rage which invades my interior.

- Speak ! How could you do that? How could you do such a horrible thing to me ? Since when ? Tell me, since when did you plan to humiliate me like this? Speak, for God's sake!

I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I'm about to punch him in his not-so-model face. And he whines, sniffs, wipes his big crocodile tears, but damn, don't tell me I was going to marry a poor guy like him? Luckily for him, he opens his dumb mouth to give me the explanation he owes me.

- Calm down sweetheart, I...

- So, let's be clear from the start. There is no more honey! And don't you dare ask me to calm down again! I'll get mad if I want to! Did you get that into your little bastard head?

He has to find the magic words to defend his indefensible cause, otherwise I'll lose my patience and slam him against the wall of this damned town hall.

- Vanessa... I didn't mean to hurt you, I...

- Well, good for you. It's a success! But it's not possible, besides being a gougea, you're a moron!

Pfff... with this one, I've got the best of it. I can be awarded the gold medal for the girl who fell in love with the leader of the flying jerk squadron.

- Vanessa... I understand you're upset... But please let me explain.

- That's right, tell me everything and stop talking to me like I'm four years old.

I know my anger speaks for itself and I can't think straight anymore, but who could be calm after such an ordeal?

- We have been in a relationship since we were 17, so for 10 years.

- Thank you, I know all that and I know how to count. Give birth!

He's seriously getting on my nerves.

- You lived with your parents until you were 25 and once you signed your contract as a journalist, you agreed to live with me...

- And?

- Before we moved in, I used to visit you at your parents' house very often and shared a lot of time with your family. So I developed a special relationship with many of them, but especially with ... Dela...

A leaden blanket has just fallen on my head. I remain a few minutes stunned, unable to say a word. Ken, him, doesn't have much to say and scrutinizes me without daring to add an additional sentence. I suppose he lets me digest the information or maybe choke on it.

- Dela? You and... my little sister? Ken, tell me that's not true! I can't believe you two betrayed me.

I lower my arms and let the water level rise in my eyes until the floodgates give way and the flood comes. My legs also give in and abandon me, letting me slide to the ground. My torrent of tears, as for him, dilutes the blood stain on my dress of almost bride, most certainly caused by my knees returned too abruptly in contact with the bitumen. Ken, impotent in front of my distress, tries an approach to raise me, but of a gesture of the hand, I stop him net. A question still tortures my mind.

- Why did you come here? Why did you come all the way here? Why did you ask for my hand, if you liked it?

My curiosity pushes me to ask these questions and yet, my heart already scattered in Senars of pieces does not wish to know more. It cannot bear any more such virulent blows.

Curiosity, woe to you for being so powerful in me...

- Nothing ever happened between me and her, I think I was repressing what I felt for her, I was convincing myself that I liked her as a dear friend. Only, when you told her that we were going to get married, she asked me to meet her at her house, without telling anyone, not even you. I knew I shouldn't go, but I couldn't help it. When she opened her door, she opened her heart to me. She wanted me to know the love she felt for me from a young age and that if I didn't share the same for her, I could leave. Vanessa...that night I stayed. I... sorry... I...

- Shut up Ken...shut up and leave me alone.

I don't shout anymore, I'm drained, I look like a stranded ship, stripped of all its passengers. That's it, I don't have a soul anymore... Gently, I put my arms on the ground, settle my dishevelled head in the hollow of those, close my eyes and let my mind go in the oblivion. Yes, I make the vacuum, I do not want to think any more, to cry any more, just... nothing. However, the muffled sound of a door reaches my ears before the black hole.

A soft caress warms my cheek. I enjoy it while slowly raising my heavy and irritated eyelids.

- Where am I?

The reassuring face of my father floats above me.

- Home Sweetheart and your Papou is here to take care of you. Go back to sleep without fear, I'll be here as soon as you wake up.

I give him a smile and exhausted, but safe, I sink into a deep sleep. I open my eyes again, but this time I must have a satisfactory number of hours of nap on the counter. I stroke the comforter with both hands and breathe in the reassuring smell of laundry from my parents' bed. As it is, I have a visceral need to hold on to details of my childhood that bring me comfort. A few minutes later, the bedroom door opens.

- Did you sleep well, sweetheart?

- Yes Papou, thank you.

- Then come and have a bite to eat, you know I don't like to eat alone.

- But, Mami?

- She's been away for a few days...

I already have too much to think about with my poor life, so I don't ask about my mother's unexpected departure. I am also grateful to my father who talks about everything and anything during the meal, but especially not about the subject I don't want to talk about. I want to take advantage of this return to my roots to get back on track to try to overcome the insurmountable.

But, the ringing of my cell phone, quickly brings me back to the sad reality...

But, the ringing of my cell phone, quickly brings me back to the sad reality...

- Hello... Mr. Truffaud?

- All the best, Mrs. Conti. Well... my little Vanessa, I'm not going to beat about the bush. I'll wait for you at the office first thing in the morning.

- But...

- Taratata! There's no "but" in that. You enjoy your wedding night and when you wake up, you're off to work! Yes, Madam, your husband has chosen to spend his life with a journalist, he must understand that scoops don't wait.

- But, I don't...

- See you tomorrow! Early and in a good mood. Don't do too much fooling around with your body! Ah ah ah...

He hung up! That jerk, hung up! What can I do but cry at a time like this? I go to the window and close the shutters. Sleep, I want to sleep to forget...

Knock, knock, knock

- Come in! I say, my voice still filled with sleep.

- Good morning, sweetie!

- Lopez! Come into my arms my darling. I'm so happy to see you!

Lopez is my sandbox friend. We are inseparable and very often people mistake us for a couple. But our love is above all that, it is pure and eternal. Anyway, it is impossible for him to fall for a girl like me, because he is a "blonde addict" and I am unfortunately a brunette. He often compliments me on my slim figure, my big green eyes and my tanned skin, but he always adds that I lack the essential color that makes him melt. I don't take offense at all, because I find Lopez very sexy, very handsome even, but I see him as a friend and only that. My female colleagues at work are ecstatic about his dreamy plastic, when he picks me up at work. They keep telling me that I'm sick or a lesbian so I don't jump on this handsome dark-haired guy with hazel eyes.

- And me then! Tell me what happened. Why did this bastard put you through such an affront?

He lies down against me and wraps me in his big protective arms. I bury my head in his neck and inhale his spicy perfume.

How his carnal contact reassures me...

I know that nestled in her protective cage, nothing can reach me anymore. So I tell him the horrible scene I lived in front of the town hall with my... ex-boyfriend, but my sentences are regularly interrupted by sobs that tighten my throat.

However, the caresses of his fingers in my hair, calm me and allow me to tell him everything. Once my last word pronounced, I tighten strongly Lopez in my arms and drown it under a torrent of tears. His hands leave then my hair to tenderly massage my back. Then, delicately, he puts his hands on my shoulders, gets free of my smothering embrace, brushes my cheek of the pulp of his fingers, lets them slide like feathers until my chin, seizes it tenderly, raises my head and anchors his glance in mine.

- Look at me my beautiful. Wipe away your tears, that bastard doesn't deserve you to suffer for him. You'll be strong, no... you're strong! Tomorrow you'll get up, look in the mirror, tell yourself how beautiful you are and how many men would like to be in your bed. As soon as you wake up, you'll be living life to the fullest. Okay, sweetie?

His eyes shine, his breath quickens and I feel the pain he has to see me like this, when he places a warm and tender kiss on my forehead.

- Okay, but on one condition.

He smiles at me.

- Whatever you want, sweetheart.

I look at him mischievously and ask him what I am sure to get.

- I want to sleep in your arms tonight.

His lips stretch to reveal his beautiful teeth.

- My blondes will be disappointed, but you know I can't refuse you anything. Good night my Vanessa to me, he whispers to me.

- Good night my Lopez.

Well calmed, with the heat against his skin, the night thus saves me of the black ideas.

Dring, dring, dring...

- Grrrr... That damned alarm clock.

Lopez is still asleep, not even the sound of the alarm could rouse him from his dreams. His face is relaxed and I can't help but snuggle in his arms for a few more minutes before getting up.

- Naughty! Mmm... You are taking advantage of a poor sleeping man's body. It's not pretty, pretty, all that, Mrs. Joana!

He teases me and presses me even harder against him.

- You are the one abusing a beautiful, grieving girl, Mr. Romy!

We burst out laughing and heckle like children, starting a pillow fight. Only, the second ring of this damn alarm clock refocuses me on the hard reality: going to work.

My arrival at the editorial office makes me nauseous. Indeed, my colleagues welcome me with applause and chant "long live the bride" with beautiful smiles. But my pale complexion makes the atmosphere fall like a soufflé forgotten for too long on the table. Big tears roll down my cheeks and I can't even hold them back. My discomfited face must speak for me, because I have no questions about my so-called marriage. My boss, as for him, equal to himself, does not make any feeling.

- Hello Vanessa! You are five minutes late! The world belongs to those who get up early. This is not mine, but I agree with the author of this quote.

I wipe my cheeks and head straight for my desk. He doesn't even ask me why I'm sad. This guy is really a heartless machine.

No sooner does my butt touch the seat of my chair, than the light on my phone tells me my boss is already trying to reach me. Sighing, I press the button.

- Yes Mr.

- Vanessa. Come see me right away and don't think you're going to slack off, I have an assignment for you.

-I'm coming right away, Mr. Truffaud.

What a jerk! Couldn't he have summoned me to his office as soon as I arrived? No, he preferred to make me turn around in order to assert his power as a leader.

- So... Vanessa, I've assigned you to a very important case. Let me explain, a famous pianist is currently performing in Rennes and he has agreed to let a journalist follow his career throughout France for six months. You will say to me: "Why me?" and to that I will answer: "Mr. Lewis Emile is a man with a temper, demanding and allergic to women groupies". You are the only sensible, married girl in this establishment now. So I'm reassured that you're not going to throw yourself at him like a hysterical fan.

- But, I...

- It's okay! Don't thank me. Oh, by the way! You leave immediately, he's already waiting for you. It's definitely a habit of yours to be late?

- But...

- We don't have time to waste in useless speeches. Ah, I forgot with your interruptions! It goes without saying that I want a front-page scoop on this mysterious man. No magazine has yet been lucky enough to get more than an hour's interview with him, so I'm counting on you to make sure. You've got carte blanche, which means, any way you can get your story on the front page.

I just nod my head, since I can't get more than two words in edgewise with him. Well...let's recap: I have to meet a well-known, temperamental, pianist, follow him for six months, get a scoop at any cost, and all of this right away, without even having time to brief myself on him.

In other words, I'm in deep shit.

Rennes Opera House, here I am!

I love this place, I would spend hours looking at this magnificent architecture.

For the first approach with this famous pianist, I made a small passage to my apartment, in order to put on a long black tight dress and very chic. Also, in order to be confident, I generously caressed my lips with a vermilion lipstick. I must admit that I am rather stressed, it is true that my articles on the "music'mag" are usually on the last page and in a tiny insert, bottom left. In short, nobody reads them. I suspect that Mr. Truffaud has sent me on a wild goose chase with this apparently undrinkable star, but this may be my only chance to make the front page of this magazine.