The next day
Do you feel like walking a bit?
Yeah, but not for too long. I'm short of breath and I get tired fast.
We can walk to our tree and sit down for a bit, talk.
I feel like I'm fighting to finish a marathon.
You're gonna be okay?
If we don't walk any faster, yeah.
Lean on my arm if you want, it'll be easier.
We look like a pair of little old folks, don't you think?
Come on, granny, sit down, you've earned it. You're not cold?
No, I'm fine, thanks grandpa. What's happening to us, Marc?
What do you mean?
I feel like for weeks now I've been on an emotional elevator with you, and it's exhausting.
Explain, because the elevator thing—I don't really get it.
Well, either we're having amazing moments together, or we're tearing each other apart like shit. It's really violent. I go from I love you to I hate you every week. It switches so fast. I hated you two days ago—today we're here like nothing happened.
Yeah… it's true, we've been living through some weird stuff lately. I don't want to twist the knife, but Stephane is still at the root of all this.
Yeah, that's not false. Why did you hit him, by the way?
He really deserved it, you know. Oh Cathy, if you'd heard the way he talked about your weekend with his buddies… I was sickened. You'd just told us about it, you were so happy, glowing—and that bastard dared to talk about you like… like a trophy he'd managed to screw in the woods. It was horrible. I snapped. It felt like he was dragging you through the mud, and in front of his idiot friends.
…
Don't cry, Cathy. I didn't want to hurt you—but you never let me explain why I hit him, and you needed to know. He was bragging in the locker room. Peter told me he was probably just showing off in front of the others and that deep down he wouldn't hurt you—but the way they were all talking about you… he had no right.
I hate him. And I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry.
Those three weeks when you didn't talk to me were just horrible for me. I really thought I'd ruined everything between us. That I'd definitely lost you.
It was weird for me too, honestly.
And then—pure happiness: the cabin. It was all mixed feelings. Scared seeing you so sick, happy to be alone with you, awkward about how close we were, and over the moon holding you in my arms. I didn't want that moment to ever end.
Yeah… I remember feeling good too. I was really scared in that forest, you know. And it surprised me, but when I came to, it was you I tried to call—not Stephane, not my parents. That's weird, isn't it?
Really?
Yeah. So when I heard your voice, I didn't even believe it at first.
Cathy, can I ask you something?
Yes.
Have your feelings changed too?
Can you help me stand up, please? Let's start heading back slowly.
Cat', please answer me. Yes or no. I need to know.
We can't, Marc.
We can't what?
It's not right. We've been friends forever—like brother and sister. You said it yourself. I never saw you any other way.
But we're not brother and sister. We're not family. Who says we can't love each other like adults?
Marc. I want to go home. Help me, please. I don't want to talk about this anymore. We can't. That's it.
The elevator just slammed all the way back down…
***************
Cathy, you're back already? Was your walk nice? Did it do you some good?
Yeah.
Wow, such enthusiasm… You don't look well, sweetheart. Hey—why are you crying?
Mom, it's Marc.
Oh boy… You two fought again, didn't you? You really need to put an end to these childish squabbles, this is getting ridiculous. With you two it's laugh a minute, cry the next. Aren't you tired of constantly poking at each other? Just say things once and for all and be done with it.
Mom, what are you talking about? What is it we're supposed to say?
Oh sweetheart… Marc is crazy about you, obviously. And he told you—you can't pretend you don't know anymore.
Mom, come on… it's Marc… he's like my brother.
Stop that nonsense. You played that game when you were ten—but now you're twenty. Maybe it's time to move on, don't you think?
So… you knew Marc was in love with me too?
Yes. I've known for a while.
But… how…?
The way he worries about you. The way he looks at you. And he was so miserable when you were with Stephane—it was painful to watch, the poor boy.
Okay, but still… I don't feel the same way.
Are you really sure? Sweetheart, at the hospital, you were only asking for him. Nothing could calm you down—not even the medication. Your Stephane—I had nothing against him—but he never looked at you the way Marc does.
Really?
Catherine, be honest with yourself: when you think about Marc and Peter, are your feelings for both of them really the same?
****************
Marie, can I see Marc?
Sweetheart, he left yesterday to go back to the military base. With all the days he missed, he was risking being kicked out, so he had to go back quickly. He'll be home this weekend.
Yeah… I should've guessed.
You know what?
No.
He had the exact same look on his face as you do right now when he left.
…
That same sadness… It's not easy to say things out loud, is it?
No. Everything's been pretty unsettling lately.
He told me about your last conversation.
… you should rather say our last avoided conversation. He tried to talk to me, but I shut it down.
Why?
I was scared. I felt uncomfortable. He wanted to talk about feelings, and I just can't do that. I heard what he wanted to say—but on my end, it's all very confusing.
Ask yourself the right questions, sweetheart. Very simple ones: Are you okay when he's close to you? Does it bother you to see him with another girl? Do you miss him when you don't see him? And when things aren't going well—who do you think about: him, or someone else?
*****************
Outside the military base
Catherine??? What are you doing here? How are you?
I thought I'd see you this weekend.
No—actually I decided to stay here. I had work to catch up on and… I didn't really feel like coming back, to be honest. You came alone? You drove?
Yeah, I managed. I'm still really tired, but I'm getting my strength back.
But why are you here?
You left without telling me… again…
Yeah… it's kind of becoming a habit, I guess. I didn't really feel like running into you…or calling you. You get that, right?
Yeah. I wasn't great last time.
It's not just you. I needed some time to process everything.
Marc, I talked a bit with your mom.
Oops… bad idea…
I told her I was confused about… everything that's been happening between us. You know…
I do. Yeah. I'm sorry…I won't bother you with that anymore…
Marc, let me finish, please. She told me to ask myself simple questions—but the right ones. And that's what I did.
…?
So here it is. To the question "Are you okay when he's close to you?" I answer: yes—like with no one else. To the question "Do you miss him when you don't see him?" I answer: yes—terribly. To the question "When things aren't going well, is it him or someone else you think about?" I answer: only him. And to the question "Does it bother you to see him with another girl?" I answer: it hurts so much I want to cry.
Okay. And to the question "Can I kiss you and hold you in my arms?" what would you say?