Having made it through today’s seminar without falling asleep is a small miracle, given that I didn’t sleep last night. At all.

We landed in Paris late in the evening after a bumpy flight that kept Lily wailing nonstop.

Raphael drove us home.

We barely spoke.

When he parked the car and helped Lily and me out of it, I was a hairbreadth from telling him that Genevieve’s words were a shameless lie. But I didn’t. Nor did I invite him to come upstairs.

He drove off without asking when he could see me again.

How ironic.

I’m making sure it’s really over between us, which is just what Genevieve wants. Granted, I’m doing it for my own selfish—and less selfish—reasons.

The idea of watching the man I love hook up with other women is unbearable. Regardless of the mistakes of my youth, I deserve better than that. My baby deserves better than that.

Raphael deserves better, too.

Neither of us had wanted a child, but once pregnant, I changed my mind. I chose to become a parent, and I neglected to ask Raphael’s opinion. So now, it isn’t fair to rob him of his choice not to have a family. And if he ever changes his mind about it, shouldn’t he have the option to pick a wife with a past to be proud of, and a future unmarred by public disgrace?

Honestly, I don’t know if these are good reasons to deny myself the love of my life and to deprive Lily of her birth father.

But in the end, reasons don’t matter.

Just like it doesn’t matter how much I regret having taken part in that gang bang years ago. What matters is that someone taped it and is blackmailing me once again with his tape. While I’ll never give him what he wants, there’s nothing I can do to stop him from punishing me for my lack of cooperation.

“You look preoccupied,” Xavier says, touching my hand. “I’m blabbering on about my conference paper while your mind is somewhere else. Is something wrong?”

He had implored me to stay for a chat after the post-seminar coffee with Professor Guyot. I agreed. He chatted. I nodded without registering a word of what he was saying.

And now I’m ashamed of myself.

Xavier is a good person. Aside from Pàpa, he’s the most ethically conscious and morally solid man I’ve ever met. And while my stupid heart refuses to transform that appreciation into attraction, I hope we can enjoy a true friendship. The kind that could, one day, turn into something more.

And to lay the foundation of that friendship, I’m going to tell him about the blackmail.

Besides, this thing will drive me crazy if I don’t confide in someone I can trust. Normally, I’d call Eva. But she’s in Florida until next Monday where she’s organizing a big international conference on manned flights. These types of conferences are always crazy busy for her. She works around the clock, starting at six in the morning and dropping dead after midnight. There isn’t a worse time to burden my sister with my problems than now.

The thing is I need to burden someone. And who better than Xavier to share the weight?

I draw a long breath and give him the lowdown.

“Have you seen the video?” he asks after I’m done.

I nod.

“So it’s real—not something he’s invented so he can sleep with you?”

“It’s real.”

“Can I see it?”

I need a moment to process his unexpected request. “Why?”

“So that I can… you know…” Xavier shifts in his seat. “See how bad it is.”

“What for?”

“To… er… assess the potential damage.”

“It has closeups of my face and other parts, if that’s what you want to know.”

Is that keenness I discern in his eyes? No, it cannot be.

“Anyway,” I say. “I don’t have a copy.”

“Are you sure?”

I tilt my head to the side. “Let’s say I did have a copy. Let’s say you viewed it and ascertained it was as bad as I said it was. Then what?”

“I don’t know.” He sits back. “I won’t turn my back on you, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I might… be less understanding of your desire not to rush things.”

What?

“Let me get this straight,” I say. “Are you saying you expect to have sex with me now that you know what kind of woman I am?”

He averts his gaze. “No! Of course not.”

I gulp down my coffee.

“What are you going to do about the video?” he asks.

“Not sure yet.”

“It’s a really bad situation.” He gives me a sympathetic nod. “If you give him what he wants and he deletes the video in front of you, you can never be sure he doesn’t have other copies.”

You’re right—I can’t.

“If you…” He hesitates. “If you agree to do his bidding, how far would you let him go?”

I purse my lips and begin to rummage in my purse for my wallet.

“Would you deepthroat him?” He leans in. “What if he asks for backdoor action? Would you do plugs?”

I put a fiver on the table and stand up.

“Mia, wait!” He grabs my wrist. “I’m so sorry. I got carried away.”

I yank my hand from his grip.

“Put yourself in my shoes,” he says. “Only half an hour ago, you were this beautiful Virgin Mary type. I almost believed your baby was the result of Immaculate Conception! And then it turns out you’re a… a…”

His lips move silently as he censors himself, searching for a euphemism.

“A slut,” I say. “Is that the word you’re trying to substitute?”

“Yes.”

I whirl around and march to the exit.

“No!” he shouts. “Shit! Mia, wait!”

He continues yelling something when I’m already at the door and even as I pull it behind me.

Well done, Mia, I tell myself as I rush to the métro station.

It had been a genius idea to share your burden with your friend and good man Xavier.

Now you’re one day closer to Gaspard’s deadline.

And one fuckup richer.