I immediately miss him after he has left. It's less hard, this time, because I know exactly when I'll get to see him again: twelve days from now. Maybe less, if I fly out on Thursday to go see him in France, but I'm not too sure about that.
No matter how much I love France, I don't know how I'll do being away from home again, and how it'll be for the both of us to seperate after that.
Lucien's flight departed hours ago, yet I'm still on the couch, enjoying my weekend and eating spoonfulls of ice cream whilst watching Married at First Sight, judging all of their outfits and whether or not the contestants are a good match.
It only takes me seconds to pick up my phone as it rings, recognising the ringtone as Lucien's.
"Missed me already?" I say as a greating, putting my spoon down in the tub and immediately having to push Frank off as he tries to steal a lick.
"Of course," he chuckles on the other end. "That, and you made me promise to call you after I landed, so that's what I'm doing."
I smile, petting Frank on his head as I dig my spoon back in. "Good. How was your flight?"
"It was alright. Short, compared to some of my other flights. How's your night? Aren't you supposed to be in bed by now?"
"It's not that late here," I let him know, checking the time. "Just a little to one. I've got the next couple of days off, I deserve to stay up late. You, however..."
"Yes, yes, I'll try and go to sleep as soon as I get to the hotel," he laughs as I try to take in the sounds in the background. "I just got into a taxi."
It makes it easier to place the things I hear now, and I can tell he's taken me away from his ear for a bit, because I hear more background noise, including a man with a thick accent asking for Lucien's destination.
"So what are you doing?" he asks after he's put me back to his ear.
"Watching...," I push Frank off after he tries to bite my spoon, "some reality tv show, eating ice cream. Boring night, basically."
"What are you watching?" he asks, curiously.
"It's this show here people get paired and then they have to marry each other without meeting each other beforehand," I explain, taking a bite from my vanilla-flavoured ice cream. "Very dumb, but it's great entertainment."
"Is this a hint, Emmeline Middleton?" he laughs on the other end.
"Yes," I state simply, letting Frank crawl back up. "I'm leaving you, because I plan to marry a total stranger."
I hear him take in a strong breath, taken aback. "Auch."
"We could make it a three-way-wedding, where you're also one of the grooms - ow, Frank, get off! That's my fucking hand you arse - sorry, I'm here." I hear Lucien stifle his laughter, though doing an awful job. "Cat's trying to eat my ice cream."
"He's on my side on this, getting you back for this."
      We stay on the phone until Lucien gets to his hotel, checking in and walking up to his hotel room, and even until he gets into bed. For a second things get a little hot and heavy, but we get interrupted by one of Lucien's world famous yawns, and we cut it short.
"Try and get some sleep, my love," I smile, having gotten into bed myself too, Frank by my side. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
"I'll hear from you tomorrow. I love you, Em."
"I love you too," I let him know, turning over so my face faces his side of the bed. "Sweet dreams."

The next day, though it might be free from work-related things, is planned entirely full from around noon. I've got a meeting scheduled with Jacques, which isn't something I've been looking forward to.
Once again, we meet in his office, where he's got a pile of papers stacked up for me to go through and sign. First off, there's a restraining order against Callum Prittchard and ready to be filed, and we're about to sue his ass for defamation and slander. This way, Lucien can be there if it gets to a trial, and Jacques is pretty sure we'll win this. With the proof we've assembled over the past few weeks, there's no way he's got more convincing proof on his side of the story. We've even acquired camera footage from several nights, including the one after the mock trial, and the bar fight. As a cherry on top of the cake, Jacques lets me know they've finally managed to get security cam footage from the bars and restaurants in Rome we frequented, making it known Callum approached me first, and how no matter how hesitant I was, he kept on making moves. There's a file from HR detailing our relationship, and multiple witness statements from the time we were in a relationship, or getting out of it.
"So you are entirely sure about this, miss Middleton?" Jacques du Castellon checks with me once again. He's typed up all of the legal paper work, and we're about to send it out, letting Callum and his future lawyer, probably one of his buddies, know we're suing him.
"Entirely sure," I nod. In this sitation, serious and ambitious, it's hard to forget why I don't like my father in law, though I get reminded soon enough when I think of his behaviour over the past year.
"I will let you know how this case continues, then," he puts on his work smile as his mouse clicks send. "I'd advice you keep your phone on at all times, but considering... your lifestyle, I assume you already do that."
And with those words, I'm out of the office, and off to something else that feels both nerve wrecking and exciting: my final driving lesson, finished off by the final test.

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