I arrive a bit later than Andy and Andrea at my new home. They are already inside, busy distributing boxes to their designated rooms, when I join them.

As soon as I step through the doorway, a wave of serenity, mixed with the thrill of a fresh start, washes over me. This feeling is heightened by the natural, light wood that dominates the interior. The pristine white walls accentuate the warmth of the wood, and the large windows that open to the sea bathe the main room—the living room—in such brilliant light that it feels as though the sun itself is the source of illumination. The décor, in warm and light tones, creates an atmosphere that is both cozy and calming.

It's everything I need to recharge, to rest, and to rediscover myself. This style, so starkly different from the manor, marks the division between my two lives. I need to recreate myself, to make a clear break between my past life and the one I'm about to begin. I want to lay the foundation for this new life with purpose, leaving nothing to chance, so as not to be haunted by unwanted memories, though I know they will resurface from time to time. The abundance of light is no accident either; I've spent far too long in the darkness, depressed and curled in on myself. This haven of light and peace symbolizes my desire to take control of my life again, to truly live, to savor every warm ray of sunlight as it caresses my skin.

When I first visited this house, I immediately felt all these positive vibes, and as I admired the view through the windows, the sun's rays wrapped me in their warmth. I like to think that it was Ezio, from above, gently brushing my cheek and guiding me in my decision—as if it were a sign from the heavens to confirm my choice. Perhaps I'm just comforting myself with illusions, but it's what I like to believe, perhaps only to ease the guilt of having left and of leaving him behind physically.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when Andy surprises me by appearing out of nowhere.

"May ! Finally, you're here. I suspect you took your time on purpose to let us handle your dirty work," she teases.

I smile and blow her a kiss from afar.

"Come on, let's try to find the glasses and have a drink to celebrate."

"Are you kidding ? We're not old enough to sit around drinking here ! Let's dig through your boxes for some party outfits and see what cool bars we can find around here !" Andy exclaims.

"I'm not sure I have the energy for that. It's probably too soon for me."

"Nuh-uh, none of that. I wasn't asking for your opinion. It's time to dust yourself off a little."

Before I can respond, she grabs my hand and drags me to my bedroom. We quickly unpack the boxes, thanks to Andy's method of emptying them by flipping them onto the bed and moving on to the next until she finds what she's looking for. A few minutes and a mountain of clothes later, we finally find the box with evening wear.

"Perfect! I'm stealing this stunner !"

Andy walks off with my short, gold dress—sexy and provocative, totally her style. As for me, I choose a more understated outfit: black straight-leg pants paired with a black bustier. It's still sexy, with its sheer fabric and lace, elegantly designed to highlight my features without crossing into provocation.

I join Andy in the bathroom to do my makeup, and when she sees my outfit, she rolls her eyes.

"May, you can't be serious. I said we're going out to have fun, not to attend a funeral for a hooker !"

I sigh at her comment.

"I could say the same about your outfit—you barely bend over and we'll see the origin of the world."

She grimaces at my remark, which makes me smile.

"I said that because your outfit is too tame."

"I know, but I'm not changing. I'm following you on the bike, so I need pants, and I feel comfortable like this. So it's either this outfit or I'm not coming."

Andy gives me a disappointed and disheartened look but says nothing more. We finish our makeup and head out.

After about thirty minutes, we arrive at the heart of the city. We park and head to the pedestrian streets, alive with the buzz of a Saturday night. We quickly find a bar that suits our taste. An endless line stretches along the building.

"It'll take hours to get in; let's find somewhere else," I say, exasperated.

"No way, you'll see," Andy insists, determined.

She takes the lead, cuts in front of everyone, and talks to the bouncer, who lets us in. A woman behind us, irritated, shouts:

"Get in line like everyone else !"

"Why don't you start by dealing with your man's and come talk to me after you've cleaned that vacuum you call a mouth," Andy retorts.

Eyes wide, mouth agape, the woman stays silent. I stifle a laugh, and we step inside. We're quickly overwhelmed by the sweaty, heated crowd. We struggle to the bar, elbowing our way through, and finally order our drinks. The music fills our ears, and the bass vibrates in sync with our hearts.

"It's quite a change from the 'Lipstick' where the vibe was way more intimate !" Andy yells, trying to be heard.

I smile at her and nod. We down our drinks and decide to take over the dance floor, much to Andrea's dismay, who remains ever watchful. We move to the rhythm of the music, and bit by bit, Andrea relaxes under Andy's spell, her attention entirely on him.

He devours her with his eyes, which burn with love for her, and their exchanged smiles betray their deep, almost telepathic bond.

I quickly find myself growing sad; the memory of Ezio, his face, his piercing eyes, and his radiant smile overwhelms me like a wave, knocking me down and tossing me about before letting me surface again.

I return to the bar to order a glass of water and try to regain my composure. Once I finish the water, I order a shot to chase away the painful thought of Ezio. Still lingering in my mind, I order more until I no longer see him behind my closed eyelids. With five shots down, I stagger back to the dance floor. I feel so good that the euphoria of alcohol drives me into a frenzied dance in the midst of the crowd. Everyone is in the same state, as if in a trance, carried by the music we lose ourselves in the night. Our bodies intertwine, entangle, and disentangle, sometimes closely pressed, sometimes distant, driven by the madness of the night, we live as if this evening were our last.