Was she ever really her lover? Was she really in Paris now? Had she even been French?I shrugged and smashed a vase.The seventh call I had planned to l...t go to voice-mail. But I couldn't."Bruce?"It was she. The same background sounds were there. Sea surf, clear children's voices. Even some music."Yes," I said. "Myriam?" I love you, Bruce."Either the connection was poor or her voice broke. Did I care? Yes, I did. I knew I shouldn't, but I did."Why call, Myr?" I asked.Silence. Then:"I am. I looked through the door… He was handsome, talking on the mobile and looking out for me… I appeared before him… He cut the phone abruptly and put it on his pocket. He walked straight to me pushed me on the wall and said, “Why do you turn me on? Look at my pant.” I smiled a bit and looked down.He was about to kiss me when the door tweaked a little and opened. I was quick. I moved aside away from him… Someone had come to call him as the party was about to begin.The party went on well… But my. More

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