It was a long trip back to his apartment, but can anyone blame him for needing to stop every few feet to kiss his beautiful wife, or to wrap his arms around her, or to just look at her and touch her and have her be real, in front of him, as alive as matters in this place? They finally get in and he’s overjoyed to see that Étienne is home as well. This is wonderful. The only way this day could be better, having both of them near.

“Sweetheart,” he says to Étienne, his arms still wrapped around Ariadne’s waist, “there’s someone I want you to meet. This is Ariadne. Ariadne, love, this is Étienne, my beloved.”