Chapter 271: [271] "WRAPPED COMFORTABLY"

Hugo absorbed the advice. He stared out the windshield, processing it... really thinking hard.

"You believe I should just allow her to experience the environment without attempting to cover up my life."

"I believe you should just be a normal guy who likes a girl and wants to show her his new house," Luc said firmly. "Stop thinking about the probabilities, Hugo. Just invite her over. Let it play out."

Hugo let out a slow breath. The tension in his shoulders relaxed a fraction. "I will consider that approach. Thank you, Captain."

"Don’t call me Captain when we’re talking about your dating life," Luc chuckled, pulling the Porsche up to the curb outside an apartment building. "It makes me feel old. I’m only twenty-one."

They had arrived at Juliette’s apartment complex. It was a modest, functional building located much closer to the hospital where she occasionally still consulted, though her primary role was now centralized either at the SC Valois medical wing or the league facilities.

Luc parked the car, killed the engine, and stepped out into the late morning air. Hugo followed him, abandoning the topic of Talia as they approached the front doors.

Luc punched the code into the keypad. The glass doors clicked and slid open, and they walked into the small lobby, heading straight for the stairs. Juliette lived on the second floor, rendering the ancient, incredibly slow elevator useless.

They climbed the stairs and knocked.

The door swung open immediately.

Juliette stood in the doorway. She was dressed in black leggings and an oversized SC Valois training shirt that clearly belonged to Luc. Her dark hair was tied back, stray strands falling around her face. She held a roll of tape in one hand and a half-empty mug of coffee in the other.

She looked at Luc, then looked at Hugo standing behind him.

"You brought him," Juliette noted, a tired but genuine smile breaking across her face. "Good. I need someone who understands how to pack these textbooks."

"Good morning, Juliette," Hugo greeted her politely, stepping into the apartment.

The interior of Juliette’s apartment was in a state of organized chaos. Unlike Luc’s living space, Juliette’s home was filled with the accumulation of years of intense academic and professional study.

Cardboard boxes were stacked everywhere, but they were meticulously labeled with a thick black marker. Winter Coats. Kitchen Utensils. Medical Diagnostics.

"This is more than anything Luc possessed," Hugo observed, walking toward a massive bookshelf that was only half empty. He looked at the thick medical volumes still resting on the wood.

"Luc owns only black t-shirts and pairs of jeans," Juliette called out, walking back into the kitchen to grab another box. "I have an actual life. Grab a box, Hugo. The anatomy books need to go in the small boxes. If you put them in the large ones, the bottom will fall out and I will hold you responsible."

"Understood," Hugo said, picking up a small cardboard square and beginning to assemble it.

Luc walked into the bedroom. He had spent countless nights in this room over the past few months. It smelled like lavender. The bed was already stripped, the mattress bare. Juliette’s clothes were neatly folded into several large suitcases resting on the floor.

He picked up two of the suitcases, easily carrying them out into the living room.

"The truck should be here in ten minutes," Luc announced, setting the suitcases by the front door. "They said they were coming straight from my place."

"Perfect," Juliette said, taping a box shut with a loud sound. "I am almost done. I just have to clear the bathroom cabinets."

Hugo was kneeling by the bookshelf, carefully placing thick, hardcover medical textbooks into a box. He picked up a massive volume titled Advanced Articular Mechanics & Joint Recovery. He did not put it in the box. He opened the cover, his eyes scanning the dense, academic text on the first page.

He flipped to the index, then turned to a specific Chapter regarding the chain of the lower body.

Luc walked out of the bedroom and stopped, watching the teenager read.

"Hugo," Luc said. "We are packing the books, not studying for a medical degree."

Hugo didn’t look up. "This text details the failure points of a grade-two tibial contusion. It outlines the load-bearing limitations during the recovery phase. It is relevant to your recent injury."

Juliette walked out of the bathroom, holding a box of toiletries. She looked at Hugo sitting on the floor reading her textbook.

"Hugo Blanc," Juliette said, employing the exact authoritative tone she used in the medical wing when players refused to do what she said. "Put the book in the box."

Hugo blinked, looking up at her. He recognized the tone instantly. He closed the book and placed it carefully into the cardboard box.

"It is a very informative text, she probably looked at it to help best with the injury," Hugo defended himself mildly.

"I will let you borrow it when we unpack," Juliette promised, softening her tone. "But right now, the truck is pulling up outside."

Luc looked out the window. The massive moving truck, bearing the logo of the firm Valérie had hired, was idling double-parked on the street below.

"Alright, let’s move," Luc ordered.

The three of them functioned like a highly efficient squad. They hauled the boxes and suitcases out of the apartment, down the single flight of stairs, and out to the street. The professional movers took over at the curb, stacking Juliette’s belongings into the rear of the truck, keeping them strictly separated from Luc’s boxes.

The labor was repetitive but satisfying as things in Juliette’s apartment began to reduce. It was tangible progression. Every box loaded was another step away from the noise of the city and closer to the sanctuary they were building.

Within forty-five minutes, Juliette’s apartment was bare.

She stood in the center of her empty living room, holding her purse and a final cup of coffee. Luc stood beside her, his arm wrapped comfortably around her waist.