Page 58 of Je T'aime, Actually

“I’ve been thinking,” Chloé went on, “maybe next time you don’t just visit. Maybe you stay a little longer. A week, maybe two. We work side by side—build this thing properly. Together.”

Monroe blinked. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I’d like that.” She smiled into the quiet. “God, I’d love that. But it’s not that simple.”

“I know,” Chloé agreed with a sigh, “but not impossible… You could still work your job.”

“I’ll think about it.”

There was a soft rustling, and Monroe imagined Chloé curling into the couch in her office, legs tucked beneath her.

“Tell me about your flight,” Chloé said.

And Monroe did. They talked until the cottage didn’t feel so empty anymore.

Monroe slipped her coat back on, tucked her phone into her pocket, and stepped outside. It was getting dark, but still early enough. She walked through the hush of the village, her mind lingering somewhere across the Channel.

When she reached Poppy’s house, she gave a soft knock. The door opened before she could try again. Poppy standing there in her dressing gown, a mug in hand.

“Well, look who’s back,” she said with a knowing smile. “You’ve got that face.”

Monroe raised a brow. “What face?”

“The one you get when something big’s happened and you haven’t said it out loud yet.”

Monroe exhaled and stepped inside. “I think I’m falling in love.”

Poppy blinked. “Right, then. I’ll need more tea.”

They made their way into the kitchen. Monroe dropped into the familiar wooden chair while Poppy poured another mug and slid it across the table.

Poppy sat, eyeing her. “Alright. Start talking.”

“It’s not just how she is with me. It’s everything. Her staff adore her. She’s brilliant, passionate, just…alive. I don’t feel like I’m pretending with her. I feel like myself.”

Poppy tilted her head, smiling. “That’s good.”

“I know.” Monroe hesitated. “I think I want to go back. Not just for a weekend. I mean properly. A few weeks…maybe longer. I want to find out if this is really what I think it is.”

Poppy looked at her over the rim of her mug. “You’re serious.”

Monroe nodded. “I want to support her with the business, yes, but more than that, I just want to be near her.”

“Well,” Poppy said, “that sounds like a bloody good reason to me.”

Monroe gave a quiet laugh. “It’s terrifying.”

“Good. The best things usually are.”

“I can still work,” Monroe added. “I might need to fly back for the occasional meeting, but mostly it’s home office.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Poppy smiled questioningly.

Monroe softened. “Maybe I’m asking for permission. You and the kids—and Frank, of course—you’re what keeps me here. I’d miss this. Just showing up for a drink, a chat…”

“I’d miss that too. So will the kids. Frank? Not so much,” she chuckled, “but you’re not disappearing. You’re only an hour away. We can visit. And you might not be gone forever.”