twenty-four

From the day I met Master Wu, I enjoyed playing at being a cat as often as possible, to the great pleasure of my nerve ends.

Strangely, the more serene I became, the more I felt my vital energy being replenished. And together with that, I must admit, an increasing libido! In all honesty, I was rather thrown by this. Embarrassed by these renewed impulses, at first I tried to ignore them. I didn’t dare mention them to Claude, in case he thought I was going a bit too far . . .

In the end, however, I couldn’t bear it anymore and forced myself to talk about it.

“I don’t know how to say this but . . . well, for a few days now I’ve been feeling a kind of renewal of my libido, and I don’t know what to make of it. I’d like to know if it has anything to do with our program of change.”

Plainly taken aback by my question, Claude cleared his throat but then answered anyway.

“It doesn’t really surprise me, Camille. Yes, of course it goes hand in hand with the changes you’re going through: the fact of becoming proactive, of taking your life back into your own hands, of working on your body and your mind. All that helps generate positive energy. Which means that you want to live your life as a woman to the full. And that’s good news, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I don’t know why. It makes me uneasy. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Mmm . . . I understand. Perhaps what’s upsetting you is discovering a part of yourself that you haven’t really explored as yet. Another Camille, as it were. A bolder woman, more in touch with her desires and sensuality.”

I blushed. “The thing is, I’m still not entirely sure I like the image that could reflect of me.”

“That’s only normal. Even today, what we have been taught for thousands of years still influences us deeply. For all those years our sexuality has been constrained by morality and taboos. Such a heritage is bound to leave its mark. And women are only just beginning to enjoy sexual freedom and acknowledge they have desires that are as strong as those men have. Now we just need everyone to accept this new sexual norm.”

“You’re right. What I’d like to do is to bring some of this new energy into my relationship. To be the one who suggests things, comes up with new ideas, if you see what I mean. Do you think I should take the initiative?”

Claude smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. “Of course. Your husband will be delighted . . .”

I wasn’t so certain.

Nevertheless, I did take the initiative. Throughout the whole of the following week I plotted my first surprise. Adrien was left with my mother for the evening. The ever-fashionable little black dress, with a décolletage low enough to make even a long-standing partner take notice. The four-inch heels that I kept for special occasions. Champagne ready to serve in chilled glasses to welcome my nearest and dearest.

A last quick look in the mirror: no doubt about it, I was hot! It had been a long time since I saw myself in such good shape, with sparkling eyes and glowing skin. Sebastien was going to go weak at the knees . . . surely.

When he arrived home, it took him several seconds to get used to the semidarkness before he got a good look at me. Then I gave him my most alluring smile, which brought him up short. I secretly rejoiced at this moment, when I could see from his expression that I had achieved my effect: surprise, bewilderment, interest.

At last!

I decided to go for broke in staging this seduction scene. I played it for all it was worth: a cinematic kiss beneath the spotlights in our living room.

My arms slid round his shoulders.

“Hello, big man,” I said.

I was really enjoying seeing how excited, almost intimidated, he was.

“Wow! What a welcome,” he murmured. “You’re magnificent . . .”

I was bubbling over inside.

“And you haven’t seen anything yet,” I said, playing my femme fatale role to the hilt.

Our eyelids closed. We kissed again, as if in close-up, gently, passionately.

I pressed my mouth against his, utterly caught up in my own fantasy. My body arched against him, one hand low on his back, the other slipping inside his shirt. I was already imagining the rest of the film projected onto the screen of a night without sleep. I was sliding my hand down his thigh when all of a sudden Sebastien pulled away.

What?

“Are you all right, sweetheart? Is something wrong?” I murmured, my voice thick with the promise of pleasure.

“No, nothing, it’s just that—”

At that precise moment my mobile rang. I cursed modern technology. But what could I do? It was my mother.

I had forgotten to put Adrien’s antihistamine in his bag. I felt a stab of guilt but tried to reassure her: it was no big deal for just one night. Yes, he could do without it. No, there was no need to go and find a late-night pharmacy. While I was half listening to her, I was casting sideways glances at Sebastien to try to assess his mood.

“Oh ho!” my mother clucked. “From your voice I can tell I’m disturbing you. So the evening’s gotten off to a good start, has it?”

I hated the thought that she was busy trying to imagine what was going on in our apartment.

“Mom!” I protested.

But then I relented. After all, it was thanks to her that I was able to enjoy this quiet evening with my husband. Well, I was hoping it wouldn’t be too quiet! So I thanked her profusely before ending the call.

Sebastien had gotten up and was standing by the window with his back to me. I sneaked up on him, took him in my arms, and whispered in his ear, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

In order not to have to reply, he rained little kisses on my neck, cheeks, and mouth.

“Sebastien, that’s enough,” I said softly. “Tell me . . .”

He was avoiding meeting my eyes. I gently took his head in my hands and forced him to look at me.

“I’m sorry, Cam,” he said eventually. “I know it’s absurd. I don’t know what’s come over me. There you are, looking stunning, sexy, taking the lead, and all of a sudden, it makes me . . .”

“It makes you what?”

“I don’t know . . . It makes me nervous.”

I let go of him and took a step back.

“I get it. You don’t love me, is that it?”

He didn’t say a word.

That hurt. And it made me angry. As disappointed as I was upset, I grabbed the empty champagne glasses to take them back to the kitchen, clacking my heels on the parquet in protest. I made as much noise as possible while I put everything away.

Sebastien had followed me silently and stood behind me. He was as immobile as I was hyperactive, crashing about all over the place. I could sense him gazing at me, a sad, confused expression on his face. After a while I couldn’t bear it any longer and confronted him.

“What is it? Tell me. Go on: What’s wrong?”

I could see from the way his lips were moving wordlessly that he was unsure how to get it off his chest.

Then all of a sudden he exploded: “I’m stupid, so stupid. I’m sorry. You’ve changed so much recently, you’re so much more . . . whereas I . . . I . . .”

Now he was the one pacing up and down the room, waving his arms around wildly to try to express himself clearly.

He looked so awkward that I felt myself softening. I went up to him and took his head in my hands.

“What about you?” I said gently.

“I . . . I think I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, afraid. All these changes in your life . . . You’re forging ahead, changing the way you behave, daring to be yourself.”

“So? That’s a positive thing, isn’t it?”

“Yes . . . it’s good, but . . .”

He couldn’t spit it out. No doubt he was worried about what I might think.

“But what, Sebastien?”

“What if I don’t change quickly enough for you? What if I’m not good enough for the new Camille?”

So that was it! It was the last thing I was expecting him to say. I was really touched. I looked him straight in the eye and smiled with all the love that I felt.

“There’s no chance of that. I love you, Sebastien, more than ever. And I’m making all these changes for you too, so that you’ll always want me.”

Again, he said nothing, but this time brought his lips close to mine and stifled my doubts with a long, voluptuous kiss. And this time, no one and nothing interrupted him.