Then Marie made another decision.
“Jean, I want you to come with me to meet my family. It’s time.”
Jean frowned slightly, uneasy.
“Your family? Will they accept me? I’m just a simple, poor man.”
Marie placed her hand over his.
“Don’t worry. For me, you are what matters. And I want them to see you as you truly are. Come with me.”
Jean hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“All right. I trust you.”
The next morning, they left the village. They walked to the small road leading to the highway, then made their way toward the city.
Jean watched the city approach—the buildings, the noise, the cars, everything he had left behind when he went to the village to rest. He felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Beside him, Marie smiled gently.
“Everything will be fine. Don’t worry.”
After several hours on the road, they arrived in front of Marie’s family home. The large wooden gate, the perfectly kept garden, the white walls—everything spoke of wealth and prestige.
Jean stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and whispered,
“So this is it.”
Marie placed her hand on his arm.
“Yes. And we are going in together.”
They stood side by side in front of the door. It was the beginning of a new step. They were about to face Marie’s family. But for that moment, they were simply there—standing before the house, ready to cross the threshold together.
Marie gently opened the great door of the house. Jean stood beside her, silent, his face serious. They entered the spacious hall where Marie’s parents were waiting.
“Marie!” her mother exclaimed, rising quickly. “My daughter!”
She ran to Marie and embraced her.
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