Chapter 42

I turned the contents in my cup of coffee, causing small swirls in the strong drink softened by milk, and sighed, happy to feel so comfortable in miles away from the people who stained the image I had of my country of origin. It was as if the fresh air mixed with the candy of each confectionery around the length of that street could replace the smell of salt, lemon and verbena that Cannes had.

Couples crossed the sidewalk commenting vigorously on random subjects. Single people passed in front of glazed stores and admired the interior, leaning as if to see the price of the products. Children followed their parents holding hands, jumping against the pavement at the height of the asphalt. And I just tried hard to contain the smile that threatened to deliver my comfort, while the wooden chair next to me moaned for all the weight of Tristan deposited on her.

Cafe Camille Restaurant stamped the dark red tent above our heads, shading our reflection at the entrance of darkened glass on