Missing From Me

25| éclair

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Julien! Langage," Maman warns.

[Translation: language]

I wonder if she knew he was coming and turn to look at her. Her face tells me nothing. Seb laughs. "I just thought to visit my baby brother for his 20th birthday."

I look at him blank-faced and raise an eyebrow. "After two years? You should have made it five."

"That's rude, Jules." His smile doesn't falter and before he could say anything more, Char walks in. For a second, I'm relieved. She'd feel the same way. But then she sends Seb a small smile and hugs me warmly.

"I thought you were coming two hours earlier."

"I got a little late," I murmur, still feeling disoriented.

"Happy birthday," she grins.

I ruffle her hair. "Thanks, Char."

She hesitates, wringing her hands before saying, "Seb got here last night."

And no one could tell me? I want to say those words aloud. I nod, trying not to stay on edge. He could go back for all I fucking care.

Throughout the evening, it's weird to me how accepting they all are of Seb coming back. It doesn't make any sense. All I remember when I see Sebastien is him walking out of that door two years ago.

Papa's loud laugh makes me glance at the two sitting across the dining table. I haven't heard him laugh in a long time. He has always gotten along with Seb more than with me. Maybe it's because Seb is doing law like him. Papa studied law and worked as a lawyer before going into politics. I used to spend more time with Maman, mainly because I loved art as a child. We would make something new every week and it used to be the highlight of my days.

I loved creation because it made me proud. That I had the potential and power to create. Bring something new into this world. I forgot along the way that the world could take.

"You don't like the bouillabaisse? Your favourite?

"Non, c'est delicieux," I shake my head. "Merci, Maman."

[Translation: No, it's delicious]

She hums. "You're barely touching it mais bon."

[Translation: but fine]

I would never tell my family this but I hate coming back to this house. I just hate it. All I see are memories and emptiness.

Papa and Maman ask me about school and I begrudging let it pass that I have a roommate.

"Why?" Papa asks.

"They needed a place to stay. It's only till June."

"You hate sharing your space with anyone," Char comments in surprise. "I'd like to see this roommate."

I roll my eyes. I don't tell her that she's already met her.

"How's work at the garage? Are you able to manage it all?" Maman asks.

"Yeah, it keeps me busy," I shrug. I've always been a hands-on learner. I like doing things physically and working at the garage lets me do that.

"Some time for relaxation is necessary as well but it's good you're taking initiative," Papa nods. His words prompt a weird mix of feelings inside me. It's been a long time since he acknowledged something I've been doing.

Seb tells Char something and she nudges her shoulder against his as she chuckles. They had always been closer. Now looking at my family, I realize I'd never been as close with them as they have with each other. And it makes me feel like an outsider. As if there's a clear divide on the dining table, separating me from them.