Page 111 of Je T'aime, Actually

“Right.” Monroe checked the time. “Can you find all of that while I make Benji some toast?”

Already scrambling up the stairs, Kitty called, “Can I have toast too?”

“If you’re quick!” Monroe shouted after her. She ran a hand through her hair. “How do you do this every day, Pop?”

ninety-four

Monroe found Poppy in the visitor’s lounge with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. Her hair was pulled into a low bun and she looked tired, but not in the way she had a few days ago. The panic was gone. Now, it was logistics. Practicality. The long road ahead.

“I brought your things,” Monroe said, setting the bag down beside her.

Poppy blinked up, startled out of her scrolling. “You are an actual angel.”

Monroe grinned and sat down. “Thankfully, you’ll be able to do all this at home tomorrow.”

Poppy let out a small, dry laugh. “I might cry when I do.”

They sat quietly for a moment, with just the hum of the TV in the corner, distant chatter, and footsteps squeaking down the corridor breaking the silence. It wasn’t peace, exactly, but it was something close.

“They’re talking about letting him come home next week,” Poppy said eventually, eyes on the cup in her hands. “He’ll needconstant care. He’s not allowed to bear any weight for at least six weeks, maybe more.”

Monroe nodded. She’d expected as much.

“They’re sorting physio, but we’ll have to make some adjustments at home. He won’t be able to get upstairs. And with his collarbone…” She trailed off, then shook her head. “He can’t use crutches. Not properly. So, not sure how he’ll get around.”

“A hospital bed in the living room?” Monroe asked gently.

“Has to be,” Poppy said. “We’ll move the sofa, make space. It’s temporary, but...”

“But still a lot,” Monroe finished for her.

“Yeah.” Poppy sipped her coffee. “And I don’t know if I can manage it all on my own. The kids, school, work, Frank needing help with everything from washing to...well, everything. He’s not going to like it either—being that dependent.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Monroe said. “We can talk to work about your leave, and I can help where I can. Even if it’s just pickups, food shopping, meals.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you go back to France.”

“Then I won’t go.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Monroe, you have your own life to live.”

“You didn’t ask,” Monroe said. “I offered.”

Poppy’s eyes filled, but she blinked them clear. “You’ve already done so much.”

Monroe smiled gently. “And I’ll keep doing it. You would for me.”

“What about Chloé?”

“Chloé will understand. This is as much my family as it is yours, right?”

This time, Poppy didn’t argue.

She just nodded and leant into Monroe’s shoulder for a moment, letting herself rest there.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“We’ll get through this,” Monroe murmured, repeating the same words she’d said to Chloé. And somehow, saying them again didn’t make them feel any truer.