For several weeks, David had found a certain peace. He spent more time with Caroline, worked on his professional projects, and tried to move past the failures and pains of the past. But something subtle, almost imperceptible, was happening in his life. His dates with Julie, his new partner, seemed to fail inexplicably, as if an invisible force was systematically sabotaging their time together.
It began with small inconveniences: a dinner where Julie was stuck in traffic for over an hour, or that night when she arrived at the restaurant with makeup smudged by a sudden rain, making the evening less enjoyable. Nothing too serious, but enough to sow doubt in David's mind. Then, the situations became increasingly awkward. During a dinner at an elegant restaurant, Julie accidentally spilled wine on her dress. She apologized, of course, but the incident felt like a stab to the atmosphere. On another evening, a waiter mixed up her order with another customer's, and Julie, embarrassed, had to repeat several times that it was a mistake, which made her even more uncomfortable.
David, initially understanding and patient, began to wonder. He found these coincidences too frequent to be mere bad luck. And there was something in the air, a fleeting feeling he couldn't exactly define, that intrigued him. These failures, these uncomfortable moments... why did it always seem like everything unfolded in the same way?
One night, after an especially failed dinner, where Julie had again panicked after realizing she had lost her wallet, David found himself alone at home, deep in thought. He remembered the previous months, and especially the weeks following Jules' death. There had been that feeling, that strange sensation that something was watching him. Something or someone. He hadn't spoken to anyone about it, but the idea that he wasn't alone in the house had haunted him ever since.
He stood up and walked to Jules' room, now almost empty of his son's belongings, and sat on the bed. He closed his eyes, trying to understand what was happening. Then a fleeting thought crossed his mind: What if it was Jules? What if it was him, somehow interfering in my life, in my relationships?
That night, as he was about to go to bed, David heard a noise, like a faint rustling in the hallway. A shiver ran down his spine, and he sat up in the dark. The atmosphere felt heavy, as though something or someone was waiting in the shadows. He wasn't superstitious, but he couldn't ignore the growing feeling of unease. After a moment, he stood up to check, but found nothing unusual.
In the days that followed, the strange series of incidents with Julie continued. During a movie night, Julie suddenly felt ill and had to leave before the film ended. The next day, during a walk, she twisted her ankle while they were strolling in the park. These little accumulated mishaps were beginning to weigh on Julie's mood, and she became increasingly distant and defensive.
David couldn't help but think that something wasn't right. His thoughts kept turning to Jules, like a strange intuition. He decided to observe the situations between them more closely. And what he discovered, little by little, was hard to ignore. The moments when Julie seemed most uncomfortable strangely coincided with times when he thought about his son, when he felt particularly vulnerable and nostalgic. Sometimes, just before an awkward situation would occur, he had a strange sensation, as if the room had become colder, or as if a breeze lightly brushed his face.
It was then that he began to understand. These weren't coincidences. It was as if Jules, somehow, was trying to prevent this relationship from flourishing. And though David wasn't yet willing to fully admit it, a darker thought began to take root in his mind: Jules didn't want Julie to take Caroline's place.
David felt trapped in a whirlwind of confusion. He loved Julie. He was attracted to her, but he was also ensnared by the memories of his son, memories he couldn't let go of, memories that, inexplicably, were interfering with his current life. He found himself in a dilemma. On one hand, he wanted to move forward, to love again. On the other, he felt the invisible presence of Jules, like a ghost that refused to let go.
One evening, after yet another failed meeting with Julie, David stopped in the living room. The ceiling light flickered, as though something was disrupting the lighting. He turned sharply toward the corner of the room, where a photo of Jules on the mantle seemed, to his eyes, to be slightly displaced, turned ever so slightly.
A cold chill swept through the room.
The walls seemed to close in slowly, and, in the complete silence of the house, David heard a voice... faint but clear. "Don't let her into my life."
It was a shock. David shuddered, his heart racing. He hadn't dreamed this. Something, or someone, had just spoken to him. He quickly turned toward the photo of Jules and, in a spontaneous burst, grabbed it in his hands.
— "Jules? Is that you?"
The silence that followed was heavy with meaning. Then, as if in answer to his question, the room suddenly warmed, and the ceiling light resumed shining normally. David felt both stunned and somewhat disoriented. He had no rational explanation for what he had just experienced, but he understood now. Jules was still there, in some form. And he had a message. A clear and precise message.
The next morning, David didn't know where to begin. Julie was calling him, but he didn't have the strength to answer right away. Part of him knew he should talk to her about what was happening, explain the presence that, slowly, was becoming too real to ignore.
But another part of him, deeper inside, knew that this confrontation with the past was only the beginning of what was about to unfold. Because from that moment on, the reality of Jules, his invisible but powerful influence, was likely to disrupt more than just his relationships: it could question everything he thought he knew about love, death, and life after loss.