Chapter Forty-Six
Auguste Monjoin’s farewell letter to his wife
My lovely Thérèse,
Tonight my soul cries out in agony: enough.
It’s now or never, I must tell you the truth. Now that I’ve become a mockery of a human being, now that I can’t show you my face anymore, I’ll try to show you my inner being, in spite of my shame and regret.
My unspoken but palpable secret has long been floating between us like a silent, oppressive force. When I took you in my arms, you were shy and attentive as a puppy that hoped for something good but expected something bad. I buried my head against your breasts, you stroked my hair but your skin breathed silent despair. I tried, really tried, to make love to you, mumbled that I was too tired, a small flu, a jinx in the male equipment… I fumbled with lies an
