Chapter 272: [272] "UNTIL YOU CAN’T MOVE"

She looked at the faded marks on the wall where her bookshelf used to sit. She looked at the scuff marks on the hardwood floor. She had lived in this apartment for quite a while. She had studied for medical exams at the dining table that was now sitting in the back of a moving truck. She had received the phone call offering her the SC Valois job in this very room.

It held history.

Luc felt her lean into him slightly. He squeezed her hip, offering silent support. He didn’t rush her.

"It feels weird," Juliette admitted quietly. "I’ve been here a long time."

"We can stay a few more minutes," Luc offered.

Juliette shook her head, taking a deep breath and stepping away from him. The brief moment of nostalgia passed, replaced by her usual forward-looking pragmatism.

"No. It’s just an apartment," she said, turning toward the door. "The new place has a better kitchen anyway. Let’s go."

They walked out, locking the door behind them and sliding the keys under the door of the superintendent’s down the hall.

Hugo was waiting by the Porsche on the street. The moving truck had already pulled away, beginning its journey toward the western woods.

"I have given them the location of the place," Hugo said as Luc unlocked the car.

Luc climbed into the driver’s seat. Juliette took the passenger seat, and Hugo folded his frame into the back seats of the car.

Luc started the engine and pulled away from the curb, leaving Juliette’s old life behind.

The drive out of the city was slow at first, bogged down by the mid-morning commercial traffic. But as they navigated westward, the dense infrastructures began to thin out. The towering buildings were replaced by lower commercial one, which soon gave way to residential suburbs.

The noise inside the car was minimal. The radio was off. Juliette stared out the window, watching the landscape shift. Hugo was completely silent in the back, likely pressing his phone or perhaps overthinking his eventual text message to Talia.

Luc drove with a relaxed grip on the wheel. His legs felt good pressing against the accelerator.

Thirty-five minutes after leaving Juliette’s apartment, the Porsche turned onto the narrow, unlined road that led into the woods.

The ambient noise of the city vanished, absorbed by the thick canopy of pine and oak trees lining the road. The sunlight filtered through the branches, casting long, peaceful shadows across the road.

"It is quiet," Juliette noted, rolling her window down a few inches. The scent of damp pine needles filled the car. "You weren’t exaggerating."

"I told you," Luc smiled. "No sirens. No people, No traffic. Just trees."

He guided the car around the final bend. The dense woods opened up to reveal the paved driveway of the twin house.

The moving truck was already parked in the driveway. Two of Valérie’s hired men were currently carrying Juliette’s mattress toward the front door of the right unit.

Luc parked the Porsche near the edge of the driveway, killing the engine.

They all stepped out of the car.

The twin house sat low to the ground, its dark stone and natural wood exterior blending flawlessly into the surrounding environment. It looked as it had when Luc and Hugo toured it, but the context had shifted. It wasn’t just a piece of real estate anymore. It was theirs.

Hugo adjusted his clothe, looking at the left unit. The door was propped open, indicating that Valérie’s movers had already finished unloading his belongings.

"I’ll check out the interior of my unit," Hugo announced, stepping away from the car. "I need to make sure the movers did not compromise my monitors or break something."

"Let me know if you need help setting them up," Luc called out.

"I think I am more than capable of setting up on my own," Hugo replied, walking up the steps and disappearing into his side of the house.

Luc and Juliette stood in the driveway, watching the movers carry boxes into their side.

"Well," Luc said, turning to look at her. "Welcome home."

Juliette looked at the house, then looked at him. A smile broke across her face. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. It wasn’t rushed.

"It’s perfect," Juliette murmured against his lips.

They walked up the front steps together, stepping through the open door and into the living room.

The space was already chaotic. The movers had stacked the boxes against the walls, but the volume of their combined belongings made the open-concept room feel different.

The sunlight poured through the sliding glass doors at the back of the room, illuminating the floors. Through the glass, they could see the shared backyard, the surface of the swimming pool reflecting the blue sky, and the thick wall of trees providing privacy.

"I claim the largest closet," Juliette announced immediately, dropping her purse onto the kitchen island. "You have three pairs of jeans. You do not need walk-in space."

"Take it," Luc agreed, walking over to the slidin doors.

He unlocked the latch and pushed the door open, stepping out onto the back patio. The air was cold. He could hear the faint rustle of the wind moving through the high branches of the pines.

It was a fortress of isolation.

Valérie Laurent had delivered. She had eliminated every single thing that could possibly distract him from his job. She had given him a sanctuary where he could recover, focus, and live his life with the woman he loved.

But as Luc stood on the edge of the patio, staring out at the trees, the comfort of the new house faded into the background of his mind.

The domestic tasks were finished. The boxes would be unpacked. The clothes would be hung up.

None of it mattered right now anymore. That part was more or less concluded.

His internal focus snapped back to the calendar.

Today was Tuesday. Tomorrow, they returned to the training complex. Coach Henri would unleash a hell of a session. They were going to dissect Stade Phocéen’s possession system until they couldn’t move anymore.

Saturday was coming.

Luc closed his eyes, inhaling the cold forest air. He was home. He was rested.