Sierra tried to listen, which was stupid since Jonas spoke in Swedish. For the last three days, he kept making calls. The Gauthiers name came back regularly, piquing the woman interest.

Jonas told her not to worry about legal issues. The man took everything into his hands. His lawyers explained to him a victim of rape had twenty years from the day they became eighteen to file a complaint in France as the law considers the difficulty of speaking up. In the case where the victim is deceased, the process became long and complicated. Testimonies could help, and any prove is allowed. Jonas also asked about a restraining order.

Neither Sierra or Jonas evoked Cecile's case as it triggered their emotions and made them soar crescendo.

The Gauthiers were dangerous. Jonas didn't need any more proof. He just desired to keep the woman and child safe.

Only when he held the solution to these crucial issues could the man proclaim or at least think of a way of expressing his feelings to Sierra. Things had not yet gone back to normal on their love monopoly. On the contrary, they took a few steps back. Sierra, as always, masked whatever worries she had with a smile.

Jonas saw no need to rush anything. Wasn't it like there was another suitor, or was there?

Jonas got off the phone and found Sierra smiling to herself as she sipped her green cha.

"What's funny?"

"I was thinking, it's weird. I have Cecile's letters, even the ones she wrote while she traveled, but where are mine? I thought her lawyer would give them to me, but he said she didn't leave anything else for my intent. It's crazy."

"You mean your eight letters?"

"Yes, gosh, I hope they are well hidden."

"Why, what secret did you write down in yours?"

"Jonas, please don't go there," the woman facepalmed, "mine were filled with foolishness. I hope she threw them in the sea or something."

The man smiled, "you're making me curious now."

"Oh, Jonas, it's almost time to pick up Leone. I better go."

"I'll come with you."

They both got up to dress and left. Yes, things were almost back to normal. They were walking to the bus stop when Jonas noticed something.

"Sierra, stop."

"What?"

"Your laces are undone."

The woman didn't even have time to acknowledge the situation that Jonas bent down to do them up.

Blood rushed to Sierra's ears, the woman's eyes darted ferret style to see if anyone looked, "Jonas, please, I'm a grown woman. Don't do things like that."

The man got up, "why?"

"Ha? why you ask because I'mㅡ, we're Just don't do it," Sierra said and strode away. Obnibulated by what occurred, Sierra didn't even check the crossing lights; she just felt her body being pulled back as the conductor of the car insulted, "Putain, tu ne sais pas lire un feu? [fuck, can't you read the lights]."

Sierra couldn't hear; her whole body found itself engulfed in Jonas's embrace.

The woman felt her spirit leave its envelope for Valhalla. Sierra had to reel in a massive amount of willpower to retrieve her soul floating in bliss and tap on Jonas's chest for the man to free her.

"I said don't do things like that," Sierra exclaimed.

"So I should leave you to get run over?"

"No, I mean, you know what I mean, right?"

The man shook his head. He enjoyed taunting her. Sierra's allergic reaction to his affection made him smile. Jonas finally found someone who shier than him. He understood what Cecile meant when she said he had cute reactions.

Leone was happy to see the two, the immense smile showing all his baby teeth attested it. Their argument affected the child who played less and spent his time sucking his thumb while cuddling up to Sierra's hanky. Here, the boy giggled as Sierra put on his jacket. He then stretched his hands out to his father to be carried.

"I see you prefer your dad."

"It's the height; he probably has the impression of being on top of the world in Jonas's strong arms," Maud said while she looked at Jonas with longing eyes. Sierra could only imagine what went through the woman's mind.

Sierra just smiled, and they left.

"What was that all about? It's the height, nya,nya, nya," Sierra mimicked once they were outside.

Jonas chuckled, "Sierra, what's wrong?"

"Did you see how she looked at you, your not rum steak or ice cream? The woman stared at you like she could gobble you whole.

"Sierra, don't you think you're exaggerating a little?"

The woman just huffed and walked off; the man left behind savored the feeling of the woman's jealousy which made him feel desired.

They stopped at the park, the bakery. All the gestures felt natural.

"So as I was saying, Robert said the position is mine if I want it."

They were in the kitchen; Leone sat in his high chair while Sierra put the stuffing on the Brik pastry sheet. They were trying a recipe Maghreb Jonas wanted to make, and for the moment, the triangles were coming out successfully.

"I'm happy for you, Sierra. "The man felt as though the woman's success was also his.

"Gosh, I've been waiting for it for such a long time."

Twenty minutes later, they sat to eat.

Again the scene appeased Jonas's heart, and it appeared Leone felt the same as he took huge spoonfuls of his rice.

The night ended with a game of french scrabble. Jonas wished to brush up on his vocabulary. The exercise was good.

As usual, Sierra won, and Jonas threatened, "wait until we start playing scrabble in Swedish."

"You're a sore loser; that's what you are. We're in France; why play in Swedish?"

"Just wait and see, Sierra."

"I won't play in Swedish because I'll never need the vocabulary."

Never say never," the man yelled as the woman entered her room.

"Goodnight, Jonas."

Jonas sat down; he waited a few minutes before pulling his Northface backpack towards him. He grabbed a folder, opened and smiled.

The letters were in order in their envelopes.

Jonas got the surprise of his life when he received them from Mr. Wagner a few days after the Gauthiers contacted him, "Miss. Gauthier wanted you to have them," the avocet said.

At first, the man believed Cecile wrote him letters. He soon discovered they were Sierra's.

She lived in France; she was the awful woman raising his son, according to the Gauthiers. Jonas was intrigued to know what kind of person she was, so he spent his flight from Sweden to France reading the letters.

When his plane landed, Jonas felt as though he knew her, and they had not even met.

Cecile did peculiar things before her death. It seemed she had a sort of sixth sense dictating her actions. Jonas wondered what the woman sought to achieve by sending him Sierra's letters.

Did she wish to reassure him concerning the person she chose as Leone's guardian?

Cecile's death left them in great grief. Did she desire them to meet?

Perhaps she believed they could support and console each other?

Jonas would never have the answer.

The letters that retained Jonas's intention were where Sierra described her ideal man and another she wrote to her future self, which like cheat codes, helped the man on his conquest of Sierra's heart.

Dear future self, please look at both sides of the road, and the lights before crossing Cecile won't be there forever.

To my future self, regularly check your sneaker laces to avoid your cold romance with the ground.

To my future self, try to learn at least one recipe a day; otherwise, you'll die of hunger.

To my future self, stop worrying about people's opinion what's essential is your happiness think of yourself sometimes.

The letters contained nothing fancy or intellectual, simple words for reasonable wishes. Jonas liked the thoughts that filled the whole page.

Jonas found himself the keeper of Sierra's desires, and he lied; no, he pretended not to be aware of the letters' whereabouts.

The Gauthier's were wrong to believe they were the ones to bring Jonas to France, for the man would have come with or without them.