Chapter 8 - Shifting Tides
A year passed. The divorce was finalized quickly. Julien did not contest any of Élise’s demands; he surrendered the house in Caluire-et-Cuire, his savings, and accepted supervised visitation rights for Chloé, which Élise allowed only because Chloé wished to see him occasionally under strict conditions.
Élise sold the house filled with painful memories. She took the money and moved back to her hometown of Brest, on the wild, beautiful coast of Brittany. The sea air was harsh but clean, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of Lyon.
With her parents' help, Élise bought a small, stone cottage overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. She started a small boutique bakery, specializing in traditional Lyon pastries but with a Breton twist. It was a therapeutic endeavor—kneading dough, focusing on temperatures, creating something sweet from scratch.
Chloé started at a new school. The trauma of what she had witnessed and carried had been immense, but with weekly child therapy and the unconditional love of her mother, the color slowly returned to her cheeks. She no longer carried old phones; she carried sketchbooks filled with drawings of the ocean, seagulls, and flowers.
One rainy Tuesday afternoon, a man entered Élise's bakery. He was tall, dressed in a damp yellow raincoat, with kind, tired eyes and hands that looked like they knew hard work. He was Thomas—not Father Thomas from Lyon, but Thomas Renard, a local marine biologist and a widower who had lost his wife to cancer three years prior.
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"Good afternoon," Thomas said, smiling gently. "I heard from the neighbors that your Kouign-Amann is the best in the region. I wanted to see if the rumors were true."
Élise, wiping her hands on her apron, smiled back. For the first time in a very long time, it wasn't a forced smile for her daughter’s sake. It was genuine. "Well, you'll have to judge that for yourself, Monsieur."
