When you woke up, the pillow you had been hugging had been replaced by a big, fluffy, new-looking black teddy bear. Attached to its paw, there was a small note written on a cheap-looking piece of paper.

“With all my love,

Kevin”

You sighed. You had told him not to give you anything for your birthd-

Wait.

‘With all my love’?

You recalled your conversation together as to why he was holding your hand.

“I know that. You told me plenty of times. I’m the one who broke up. I know that.”

“Then why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

You started mumbling, insulting yourself. Yes, it was obvious. It was so damn obvious. You had just stopped wanting to see it after you had yelled at him and thrown the leather bracelets down. But it was obvious, and you had always known it. Kevin still loved you. It wasn’t as if he just had a crush on you still. No. It was more than that. Everything he did, it was for you. Thinking about you. That teddy bear. That other teddy bear he had given you when you were still in the hospital. Working, going to school, trying his best not to fail. Eating less, so he could give you small presents. Like this teddy bear.

You sighed.

You had told him not to give you any birthday present.

You got up, hugging the teddy bear. You felt better, now. Curious, you sniffed the bear’s fur, and you closed your eyes. Smelled like Kevin. It was sweet, and yet manly. Comforting. Saddening. Reassuring. Breaking your heart…

You shook your head. Those feelings weren’t yours. They belonged to the past you. The one you weren’t anymore. You headed out the room.

Kevin was reading a French novel – probably for French class –, sitting at the table, while the food he had been making earlier seemed to be in his tiny oven. He looked up when he heard the door open, and he smiled to you.

“Feeling better?” he asked in a soft voice.

“…”

“I see that you noticed the plushie. Do you like it?”

“… I told you not to give me any birthday present.”

He chuckled.

“That’s a ‘congrats for recovering’ present. I just happened to give it to you on your birthday.”

“…”

“I originally planned to give it to you at the restaurant, but since you didn’t feel well and didn’t seem to want to go back home…”

“…”

He chuckled again and shrugged softly, going back to his book.

“The food is cooking. It’ll be ready in…” He looked at the clock. “About ten minutes. You have time to wake up some more.”

He looked at you.

“You can take a seat. It’s not the most comfortable chair ever, but it won’t eat you.”

You sighed and sat. The chair wasn’t comfortable, you had to agree on that, but it was better than staying up in the middle of the kitchen and looking stupid. You still had the bear in your arms. Kevin smiled sadly.

“It’s been forever.”

“Hmm?”

“Since the last time you sat there with me.”

He put his book down, and you frowned. “Won’t you keep on reading it?”

“You’re here. I won’t read in your face.”

“But isn’t that book for French class?”

“Yeah.”

“Then read it.”

“Not when you’re here. Ça ne serait pas très poli.”

You cringed at his accent, but shrugged. Oh well, he was learning…

“Did I say it bad?” he immediately asked, looking worried.

“No, the grammar was fine. But your accent…”

“Oh… sorry. J’apprends encore.”

This one sounded better. You laughed a little, amused. He sounded adorable, speaking French. Your friends had told you. He had never had good French classes in the US, and when he had moved in Montreal with his parents, he had always been in English schools, until he had chosen a French Cegep. You had been to an English high school with him because one of your parents only spoke English while the other could speak both French and English, meaning that you were good in both languages. The thing was, you had always liked French a little more because of its long, delicately turned sentences, so you were actually better in French than in English, but hey. You remembered Kevin once being sad about you remembering French, but not him… you had probably forgotten to tell him that you already knew both languages before high school.

“Il y a un problème?” Kevin suddenly asked, still in French, making you laugh at his accent.

“No, there isn’t any problem. But your grammar was off on this one.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah. The correct formulation would be ‘y a-t-il un problème?’ Nobody says it like that in conversations, but you should learn the correct way before trying it the conversational way.”

“Was my pronunciation proper?”

“Yeah, kinda. You have a weird accent, but it’s all right. At least you’re trying.”

He smiled widely and you couldn’t help but think that he was adorable, looking like this, being so happy for such a little thing. You had just acknowledged that he was trying and he looked like that…

“I am!” he said joyfully.

“Have you always been like that?”

His smile disappeared and he frowned. “Been like what?”

“Like that. Like a puppy who gets happy whenever he gets told ‘good boy’.”

He looked thoughtful, brushing a hand in his fluffy hair. You hated and loved that hair at the same time. It looked so fluffy, and yet you couldn’t touch it. Well, you probably could’ve, since you doubted Kevin would’ve minded, but… he was your ex.

“Well, I like being praised… is it a bad thing?”

“No, it’s just weird. I just said that you’re trying and you got this happy.”

“Well, that’s because you’re the one who said it.”

He smiled softly. “Because, well. I like hearing your voice. I like knowing that you think I did good. All that stuff.”

“…”

“And you know what I think of you.”

You kept silent for a moment before you spoke again.

“Why?”

“Because nobody can replace you in my heart. I was the one who broke up. I know that. I did it because I didn’t want you to be unhappy. I’m not worthy of being your boyfriend. Would you really have wanted to live in such a place? I don’t think so. It doesn’t mean that I hate you.”

His voice became a sad whisper. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll always love you.”