Consumed by my work, I didn't see the months pass. Sophie and I spent Wednesday evenings together having friendly dinners, sometimes preceded by a movie, during which our loneliness merged in the darkness of the theater. Luke wrote to her every week, a short note composed while his father dozed on his chair leaning against the bakery wall. Each time, Sophie passed on the few lines that were addressed to me, in which Luke apologized for not having time to write to me. I think it was his own way of keeping me abreast of his correspondence with Sophie.

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