All language subtitles for Lui (2021).720p.BluRay-eng

It's completely out of tune.

Don't ask me.

There's no signal here.
You can pick it up out by the mailbox.

The meter's here. Sorry...

Here.

In the shed, there's two bikes.

What's up there?

Nothing. Don't go up.

Not too close, it's dangerous.

It crumbles away.

Come on, I don't have all day.

You okay?

Fine.

Just wanted to say I arrived safely.

All right.

It's really beautiful here, very quiet.

I'll make the most of it to work.

Great.

But the piano's completely out of tune.

I asked twice if it was playable.

It's shit,
I need to come up with something.

Can I call you if I do?
To play you it?

It was stupid, right?

- What?
- Calling you was stupid.

Can't you ever stop?
Always stirring shit.

I call to cool things down and...

Cool things down? Bullshit!

You don't say goodbye to the kids,
you ask me not to call,

so you can be alone to think,

and as soon as you arrive,
you call me to complain...

Put the kids on, will you?

They're out.

Next door. They'll call back.

No, there's no reception.

Why are they next door?

Don't they need you right now?

Who are you with?

44.90 euros.

Is there a piano tuner on the island?

Nobody does that here.

They're still renting out
the madwoman's house?

Thanks and goodnight!

Me again. The Brits are furious.

What are you up to?

They mix in two weeks,
and you have nothing. Seriously?

Call me, tell me what to say.

You piss me off at times. Call me!

Anyone there?

Just a little panic attack.

One now, and before bed for three days.

No more, and don't mix it with that.

Hey.

That's why you brought me here?

And you tell me like that?

I find that so cowardly.

My wife of over 20 years
thinks I'm brave,

and you say I'm a coward.

Trouble is, I think you're right.

Maybe only fucking
means we're more honest.

That's what turns me on
when I make love with my wife.

When she's drunk.

Nothing on her mind but sex.

Her body calling, really letting go.

Our problem now

is we've got into a rut.

So it's like fucking my wife,

and I have to lie to you, too.

So I'm a bastard to one or other.

In that case, I choose love.

I love my wife at least, for sure.

Like I'll never love again.

You never tried to know me.

I know,

self-preservation.

So I wouldn't hurt you.

Or it would upend your life,
your plans, all your promises.

That suited me, too.

I never asked you for more.

I'll be going now.

How come you think of me
when you fuck her?

You say "fuck" too?

To me, it sounds vulgar.

Guilt is why I think of you.

Usually, it's only after I come.

Now, from the get-go, the first touch,

I think of you.

It's remorse for misleading you.

I'm not the man of integrity
you used to rave about.

I was, at first.

Then I turned jealous because...

After what happened,

I feared it happening again.

So you took a lover?

Drop the excuses.
You always were jealous.

Even before I cheated.

Yes, I cheated on him once.
A long time ago.

We weren't getting on.

I needed it.

Stop.

I was right, I didn't enjoy it.

At least that was settled.

But it vindicated his jealousy.

Usually, over time,
it's the other way around.

You become less jealous.

It kinda feels good
when it comes back.

It means
your partner has still got it.

It's scary, but it revives the heart,
rekindles the flame.

I'm far less jealous than at first.

I've never been particularly possessive.

Though I'd lie
if I said it doesn't hurt.

Now, obviously, my ego takes a hit.

My pride.

A slight sense of betrayal.

It's sexy.

A bit sad, too.

Come on.

Yes, come on.

I feel cold now.

So get dressed, bitch.

Did you make her say that?

Honestly, I wouldn't dare.

Yes, it was me. Sorry.

Why so mean?

Because it's over.

Over?

Yeah, it's over.

Haven't you been paying attention?

Sure, but I'm here
as you want me to be.

It's only you talking.

We're here to shut up and listen.

It's your way of thinking.
And cowardice, again.

In reality,
you'd never tell me all that.

You're in for a surprise.

Well...

Bye.

No, stay.

I want to be with you.

No, don't go. I don't feel well.

Mummy. You can add Mummy.

I want us to have a talk.

Keep going.

What you're doing is just fine.

I like your wife.

You're a real jerk.

What now? We got no scores, did we?

Morning.

Sorry to intrude.
Any news of the piano?

No, not yet.

I have work to do so...

Yeah?

When I called to rent it,
a man answered...

The madwoman's son. He owns the house.

He lives here?

He can't do much, it's not his job.

- He said...
- Ask him.

He lives right there, the brown door.

- Have a good day.
- Thanks.

- Hello.
- Yes?

I'm renting your house.

We spoke when I called?

Yes.

You said the piano would be tuned.
It's not.

Really?

Yes. I asked the lady,
your neighbor,

who showed me the house,

if she could call in a tuner.

All right.

It's important for me.

I chose the house for the piano.

Will you see to it?

All right.

You'll keep me posted?

Yes.

Thanks.

Fuck!

What do you want?

I want to see you.

Who? Me?

You.

You walked out.

You were about to leave me.

I thought...

I'd suffer less. I was wrong.

I really feel for you two.

Usually, he's always smiling.

Is he?

With her, you smile?

A lot less when she's here.

With me, he smiles a lot.

Right? You smile.

He must do lots with you
that he's stopped with me.

Don't be mad at me.

In that respect, I got the picture

it wasn't crazy between you.

He says when your head's out of whack,
everywhere else is too.

The head never cuts it.

Trust me. You bang less,
your head's a mess.

That's how it works.

Are you kidding me?

She sounds just like you!

Seriously, she can't be like that.

It goes way beyond a cliché.

Thanks for pointing it out.
I'm really not seen in a good light.

I'm never so vulgar.

Especially with a virtual stranger.

Why make me sound stupid?

No choice.
I can't give you any great qualities.

It's hard for her,
I can't make it worse.

Wrong! I'd want your lover
to be a good person.

I'd get it,
at least, 'cause right now...

No offense, but bimbo's the word.

I quite agree.

He denigrates me,
even though I have a PhD.

No shit!

All right, I see.

A PhD? Why don't you tell me that?

Yeah, why don't you?

It suits him, this take on me.

Staying on the surface.

Not going any further or deeper.

To what touches you, makes you happy.

And if he's happy, it becomes love.

So he protects himself.

Right?

You know, you're really growing on me.

Even on the surface.

You're undeniably very pretty.
Those sublime eyes!

And a mouth...

Right? Her mouth's insane!

Crazy,

you always making friends
with women I find attractive.

Very smart.

Eliminates any romantic possibilities.

Personally,

there were no feelings,
it was only sex.

Even then,
I never found better than you.

Why are you doing this? It's so puerile.

But improving linguistically.

You need to demean what we had?

Did I say I love you?

Did I ever say I loved you?

She's right. It's puerile and mean.

You don't say that.

It's suspect, especially with me here.

No, it's the truth.

So there were never any feelings?

No.

And sex is better with your wife?

Yes.

What the heck am I doing here?

Reassuring him.

Letting him think he'll seduce others.

It's pretty low, you know.

Let me go now.

Please.

She's out cold, right.

She'll drown.

You know she's gone for good?

Will you regret it?

Well...

Logical first step, I guess.

Pretty dumb.

I liked her mouth.

Her breasts.

She'll wash up one day.

I'll be gone.

Why do that?

It's real.

Visible.

Why's he "the madwoman's son"?

Dunno.

To make me panic even more?

Thinking of her?

Yes.

Her or her booty?

Both.

Why go blabbing to your wife?

That's bullshit.

To ease your conscience?

I didn't want to lie.

I don't like lying.

The issue isn't liking it.

The issue is owning it,
accepting the unpleasantness.

Here.

You can't have it all.

Protect your wife!

Look at me...

15 years lying to my wife.

Is she unhappy? No.

Why isn't she unhappy?

Because she doesn't know.

The wonders of lying!

What's more beautiful
than seeing those credulous eyes.

How can you be a great pianist
and so insensitive?

The chicks say the same.

And horribly macho.

Quit lecturing people, it's a drag.

And you're off-base.

What are our wives doing? Who knows!

Yours admits to cheating?

Who says she's cheating?

Seriously?

You bang away
and she does crochet?

The women I bed

are mostly married women.

Believe me, they protect me.

They have no issue with lying.

So, yes, it hurts.

It stings a bit.

But keep it to yourself and never...

Never tell.

Maybe she doesn't admit it
'cause there's nothing to tell.

What?

You won't hear sense.

I won't hear sense?

Come on, you know something?

What? You're still up?

It's not even dark.

There, dark.

You're still up?

It's your wife.
She's having trouble sleeping.

You're still in Mommy's bed?

Sure. You're not home.

Someone has to take your place.

Be glad it's me, not him.

See what I mean?

No, who's "him"?

Don't.

You know. You obsess about it.

A growing child
doesn't need his mother's bed.

If you'd slept in your mother's,

maybe you'd be closer now.

Why are you talking like this?

Like what?

An adult.

Because you don't want me to be a child.

You want me to be like you.

You want to be like your dad?

Even worse,
you don't want me to be a child,

but not grow up too fast either
so you can make up for lost time.

I like being a child.

Carefree, naive...

Take my time becoming a cynic like you.

Look where it got you,

being seen as an adult too early.

Five times more experience,

and still no faith in yourself or us.

Your mother's guilt-tripping,

your father's egocentricity...

Hardly breaking the mold.
Thanks a bunch!

Excuse me,
"your father's egocentricity"?

I guilt-trip you?

Know what?

Don't call anymore, forget me.

If I die, sad and alone,

don't bother wondering why.

Great job. You got her to a T.

That's spot on.

Me, though...

Egocentricity...

How come?

Dad, please, not now.

During our father-son chat.

Not now?

I'm here, make the most of it.

What's the problem?

I'm to blame?

No, you're not to blame.

I know it's never concerned you but...

I can have personal problems, too.

That's reassuring.
I thought it was me who...

So it's not me?

No.

That reminds me,
I had something to ask you.

Here we are...

No, sorry, not that...

Yes, that's right...

Did you call the son
of that friend of mine?

About his internship?

You called?

Talk to him.

- No.
- Go on.

A lot of it is his fault.

You remember when you left Mom?

When you left home.

I was roughly his age.

I told you...

Go out that door
and you're not my father.

There! 10 minutes later,
the neighbor came knocking.

I think your Dad's not well.

A heart attack outside the door.

You remember that?

I remember it well.

Dad in an ambulance, tubes everywhere,
thinking you killed him.

That stays with you.

What's it got to do with you?

Anyway, I didn't die.

No, but then came
more heart attacks, cancer...

Near-fatal, every time.

And always that nagging guilt
of having triggered it.

Hold on now, my darling.

First of all...

That's not the recollection I have.
Not at all.

Of the events, sure.

I remember that very clearly.

But...

Of you saying that to me, no.

No recollection. I was steamed up.

And sad about leaving you.

Maybe I didn't even hear you.

No, what I'm saying is...

My heart attack
was nothing to do with you.

There.

It may have helped
if we'd talked back then.

If you told me it wasn't my fault.

Nobody realizes how...

tiny things can ruin a kid's life.

Tell me about it.

First of all, I was not aware that...

you felt guilty.

And then...

None of it's on you.

It was my lifestyle.

It was your mother!

Here we go!

I just knew it.

What a surprise!

This time, I'll do the leaving.

Any luck, I'll die outside the door.

That way, I'm out of your hair.

Why don't I have a heart attack?

Why does no one worry about me?

"Your mother's strong."

I'll check out one day, too.

Screw you all!

Screw you all!

Come here...

Sorry, champ.

That we didn't discuss it all earlier.

It's cool. It says a lot,

what your Dad doesn't say.

You...

Come to see me more often
instead of spouting crap.

If you don't mind me saying...

You're a bit slack with your kids.

If I were you, I'd...

Sorry, I...

I apologize, an old reflex.

You're panicking

about screwing up your life.

And leaving us nothing.

Me...

All I want is a Dad.

To be a child and have a father.
That's all.

Come on,

you're a big boy now.

I apologize, I'm really sorry.

I love you lots, you and your brother.

You know I do.

I know.

But you should know it,

without always wondering.

I'm a child. Make the most of it.

All right, enough of this crap.

Get to bed.

No way, I'm tired.

Good to see you, too.

Here.

Having fun, smoking in my room?

Sorry.

Why are you here?

We wanted to talk to you.

I'm tired, I said.

Early to bed,
or you feel down in the dumps,

you don't dream,

you become depressed and suicidal.

You won't off yourself?

You guys ever fucked?

You can be so annoying.

Who, me?

You.

So, imagine me differently.

What makes you think
I shag your buddy?

Yeah, why put us naked in your bed?

Getting me drunk earlier,
you seemed into fucking her.

Firstly, you got yourself drunk.

Secondly, it makes you sad and dumb.

And jealous!

The problem's always the same.

Deep down, you want me to cheat.

To relieve your remorse and guilt.

Also, I think it turns you on

to picture me coming
with another guy or girl.

Just the mention of it now,

it riles you and turns you on, right?

Look...

- He wants me to.
- What are you doing?

No, no, no!

Stop it!

What's wrong with you two pervs?

- That's not my thing.
- Really?

Naked in bed with us?

It's not an invitation,
just to make you ill at ease.

Sweetheart...

You refuse to face facts,

you have pervy tendencies.

Sorry to disappoint you,
I desire only you.

I hated cheating on you.

If I ever sleep with someone else again,

we're really through.

Are we through now?

Well...

Can I put my shorts on?

For sure!

Me too, all this crap, I'm getting cold.

- What were you talking about?
- Exactly that.

Your annoying habit
of making assumptions about people.

Judging them.

Thinking for them.

Wanting them
to think like you, be like you.

Your son was right.

Anything beyond you, you trash it.

I wonder why I still see you
as my best buddy.

You're too close to my wife!

Firstly, I introduced you guys.

I was her friend to begin with.

Precisely, no way,
you can't be honest with us both.

You tell a buddy
what you don't tell your wife.

With you, I'm worried you'll snitch.

Wrong!
I wish, but he's not like that.

Quit taking his side all the time.

All my flaws are his qualities!

I don't live with him.

How come you're his friend?

I really like him.

I like hanging out with him.

He's very funny.

Always upbeat.

Always.

He's intelligent.

And I admire him.

That's sweet.

All I'm not anymore!

Did I say that?

No, you didn't.

I can't say he's talented?

- Now, don't...
- Seriously!

You're a great musician.

- A virtuoso, in fact.
- Thank you.

Sweetheart, we discussed this.
You know I admire you

You're a great composer
but not a musician like him.

You are a great musician.

It's really sad that you quit.

Why'd you insist?

I did not insist that she quit.

I just wanted her to scale back
the touring, the concerts...

To be at home more.

And I'm macho?

You bastard!

He's not a bastard.

He lies to his wife!

Yes.

And he's right.

Why hurt her?

So you prefer me to cheat on you?

No, I prefer not to know.

Or find out on my own
so I can understand.

Or choose not to speak.

Or save us from this.

So I got it all wrong again.

I need to sleep now. Out!

- You're not here to sleep, buddy.
- No.

Finish what you started.

For so long, you've blocked things out.

It's bound to be a shock.

but we're loving
being able to talk at last.

You piss me off!

I need solitude!

No offense, sweetheart,

the artist looking for inspiration
in solitude,

what a cliché!

Forget the desert island,
you've been a ghost for years.

You've done nothing wrong?

For years,
heaping your self-loathing on me!

This is about you.

Own your egocentricity all the way.

It's about me now?

My life?

Or my non-life.

He's right, I quit music for you.

Cut that out!

Every day, gradually,

you limit me.

You constrain me.

You stifle me.

You could have got me dreaming,
raised me up.

Let me see life up there.

Just a glimpse before I croak.

I see what he's doing here.

He's dredging up all our shit

to be able to throw his at us.

Uncool.

Learn to accept who you are.

A victim of yourself.

Yes, victim of myself.

The dick inside won't let go.
You think it's easy?

No, I live with the dick.

To observe is to change.

Shut the fuck up!

Are you so perfect?

There we are.

It's coming out.

I can't take anymore.

We'll never do this.

Your anger runs so deep.

You can't bear me.

Whatever I say or do,

you won't let me make amends.

You'll always bring up old grudges.

When all's good, I'm happy,
you never see it.

I can't become someone else.

You want rid of the dick. Me too!

What should I do? Kill him?

If I kill part of me, who am I then?

A new man?

Better? And you guys stay the same?

I never asked you to kill him.

He's there for a reason.

Maybe to teach you something.

I don't get it anymore. I'm tired.

- Have a drink.
- He's right, have a drink.

- And we'll be going?
- Yup.

We'll be going.

It's flat! Can't you hear it's flat?

Why the hell am I here?

I hate situations like this.

You seemed like my best shot.

You always reassure me.

Heal me.

Heal your urge to jump?

Maybe I don't really want to.

Back up if you don't.

From this height,
it'll be out of my hands.

Or anyone else's.

Pisses me off, I haven't decided,
cremation or burial?

What happens then? Who decides for me?

Dunno. Your wife, I guess.

I hope it won't be too grim.

All that he's-gone-to-heaven bullshit.

You're headed the other way.

I'll croak for sure?

- No chance I'll survive?
- Dunno.

I'm a medic, not a medium.

How come
you're always so calm, detached?

Saving people's lives
boosts your self-confidence?

No.

Rubbing shoulders with the sick

gives me protection.

But...

I'm more than your patient.
We're friends now.

- Aren't you worried?
- Sure.

But you should worry.

No more fear of dying?

No.

It's strange.

What could that mean?

Maybe you're good.

To go.

I'm surprised by...

you going this way so young.

You got it into your head,

programmed your date with destiny.

Self-fulfilling, I guess.

The sad part for me
is my children.

They're too young.

I'll leave them the idea
I'm a coward, I'm weak...

I abandoned them.

Give me a push?

Cut the crap, bye.

Wait!

Help me.

I can't, sorry. You never want my help.

Help me!

You keep saying you're sick,
you'll die young...

You're proving it to yourself, to us.

- Bullshit! Haul me up!
- I'm holding you up.

You're not ill, you're loved,
but you must want to live.

Sorry, I can't force you.

Help me!

Why stop?

Stop what?

Feeling good.

Why do you deny it?

You had your I-feel-good expression on.

It's great, you feeling good.

See? I see it.

There's no shame in it.

You're here for some alone-time.
Why not enjoy it?

I know...

You hate people seeing or thinking
you're happy.

Let yourself go.

No one will ever know.

That's not the problem.

Actually, it is the problem.

You always need people's sympathy.

For them to see
how hard it is for you.

If not, there's a catch.

Any hint of joy or happiness,
you have something to make up for.

And then, you're super demonstrative.

You lay it on thick
to cancel out the earlier shit.

Are you done?

Enjoy it, you say,
and when I feel good, you give me shit.

- See? You were feeling good.
- Shut it!

Just because I'm not here,
don't talk like I left.

If I can't yell at you now,
when can I?

If only you knew,
it's a dream, telling you to shut it!

Say...

You bang a whore behind my back,
and I'm cool,

so let me point out
when you lack respect.

That's not very nice, "a whore."

I quite agree.

I detested saying it.

I hoped you wouldn't be back.

That you'd forget me.

I mean, I'd forget you.

We always come back.

That's the point of adultery.

You try your best to forget me,
but it always comes back.

One morning, in the shower maybe,

you'll recall I loved blowing you.

I'm not in the shower,
let me talk to my wife.

I still don't condone
his manner with you.

It was superb, what you wrote today.

She's right.

It's superb.

Really?

You like it?

Yes.

It's not mine.

It's thanks to you.

It was good to hear you play.

I love admiring you.

You inspire me.

I can't compose since you stopped.

So it's because of me?

Can we talk about the cliff?

You want to die?

- Just think, what might've happened.
- Come on, nothing did.

Where are we going?

To check something.

Take a look.

Me
1973-2021

You want that?

No.

So why?

I didn't want to die.

It was to show my pain, my fear.

To raise the alert.

If you stage a suicide,

make sure someone's there,
so you don't die.

You're alone here, dummy.

You'll try again?

No.

Forgive me.

What for?

The cheating or near-widowing.

For making you unhappy.

That explains you feeling good tonight.

You felt ready to apologize.

To do me good.

You need to be happy
to make me happy.

You're leaving me?

I can't tell you what you know.

Remember what I said at the start,
after you left.

That it was over?

No. I wanted some things to be over.

And a rebirth.

Same here.

But it clings to me.

I feel like a prisoner of myself.

Give me some time.

Fourteen years is quite a while.

We can do it.

Not we, you.

I can do it all on my own.

I like being happy.

Just don't stop me.

You'll be happier without me?

I don't know.

I'll warm it up, it's cold.

I don't think I'd be happier.

One evening...

right at the beginning...

in a restaurant...

You did nothing special.

You were sitting there.

We talked.

You listened.

Back then, you listened.

After never being able
to trust anyone...

Not my father...

nor my mother...

Definitely not men...

I had a powerful sense...

absolute certainty
that I could trust you.

I was overcome.

I told you, remember?

I felt so relieved,
knowing I could rely on someone.

That evening...

I knew I'd love you.

Love you my whole life.

- You switched off the music?
- No, sir.

What was that in the kitchen?

You're going back to the trough?

What is it to you?

It's kind of my business,
and it ruins our plan.

I thought you were done?
You got no balls?

She's my wife, my kids' mother.

What am I then?

By the way,

"the dick," as you call me,

that's not very pleasant.

I'm supposed to be pleasant?

You could show some self-respect.

- And respect me more.
- The idea isn't to respect you.

It's to get rid of you.

You can't get rid of me.
Your wife told you.

For once, she's not talking crap.

We make up a whole, one person.

If you kill me, that's suicide.

But you have no balls.

Lay off the balls.

Luckily, I got enough for two.

How about we cut out the conflictual?

It's exhausting.

Doesn't it tire you out?

Look at you, so pale.

Have we picked up a bug?

What are you doing?

Working. Give me a break.

What?

You're hardly inspired right now.

You know that?

Don't you think we should talk?

You came here
to get things clear in our head.

- "And I'll get some work done!"
- It does me good.

No, it lets you think it does
but it solves nothing!

It's a distraction,
living to jump another day.

Drowning yourself in work. Honestly!

So conventional!

Try getting into meditation
like everyone else.

Shut up!

What now?

It's not very good.

Sorry, I...

I held my tongue yesterday
but it sounds secondhand.

I disagree. I like it a lot.

Sure, but it rehashes
stuff you already did.

Just not as good.

I had to tell you,
you're going around in circles.

You're miles away.

You never like anything.

So don't ask my opinion.

I gotta say what you want to hear?

Shit!

You jerk.

Call her then.

- Who?
- What?

Your wife, dummy. She obsesses you.

Start with that. Feed her ego.

Especially if you mean it.

I've been known to make shit up
to flatter her.

But if it's for real...

I think of you every day.

I think of lots of things.

Being here's doing me good.

You've nothing to say?

What can I say?

Tell me what you feel.

I've no idea anymore.

Loving you isn't enough.

I can't do this anymore.

This is the bit
where you realize you hurt us,

you try to make up for it.

Then you veer off again.
You're so inconsistent.

I'm exhausted, can't take any more.

I think I need to be alone, to live...

- Give!
- Let her talk!

Give it to me!

You're tired?
You want to be alone, do you?

Guess what, you will be!

Un-fucking-believable!

I call to say I love you,
I'm thinking of you,

only you on the fucking planet
keep me going...

And you're tired!

You don't tire me out?

Shit!

It's normal after so many years!

You know many couples who,
after 14 years, never fight?

What you want doesn't exist!

You know what comes now?

You'll meet, or have met, a guy.

It'll be wonderful.
You'll feel young again.

Light and in love!

Until you both ease off,
stop working at it.

Then his inner dick'll get on your case.

And it will all start over.

It's called a relationship!

A battle every day!

You wanna quit fighting?

And subject our kids
to our lack of courage?

Know what? Play the hero. I'm gone.

Tell them their dad's a bastard.

This time, it's over.

We're through!

Go get laid if you want!

Why'd you do that?

Why the hell did you do that?

You can't help it!

She just said she needs to live!

You're a fucking psycho!

You're the psycho, blockhead.

Look at you, talking to yourself.

Cut out the schizoid bullshit.

I am part of you.

I am you, like it or not.

You're convinced she's cheating.

All those times,
you snooped for clues on her phone.

Not me. You were the one snooping.

You snooped
but cowards don't admit it.

It reassures you
to think it's not you.

It is you.

You are that sly, spineless coward.

Quit dumping it all on me.

What if I'm right?

And you're a jerk?

Instead of a good guy,
could be you're a dick!

You're phony excuses, like,

"my alter ego takes over."

What if I need
to get rid of perfect, well-meaning me?

Who says you're a good guy?

Your wife?

She thinks you're a good guy
who can change?

Maybe deep down you're a shit.

Maybe she loves getting fucked.

She's cheating on you.

From day 1, banging other guys.

Hi, I can't take your call.
Please leave a message.

Unbelievable.

Won't you ever listen?

Slit my throat, slaughter me,
anything you want...

Whenever I want, I'm back.

I can't take any more.

You drive me nuts.

You've ruined my life.

My whole life, dragging me down.

Stopping me from being happy.

I want this to stop.

Accept me to make it stop.

And listen to keep me quiet.

I was never your enemy.

I dragged you down
so you'd want to rise and be happy.

For yourself and others.

You want to be happy?

Then you know what to do.

What to tell them.

Why have kids, for this!

Don't start that again.

- Start what?
- Stop!

All good.

Won't be much longer.

How do you feel?

Sad.

I feel empty.

Alone.

It's called the Stockholm syndrome.

A frequent phenomenon
between hostages and their captors.

For years,
you've found comfort in crisis.

You've developed
an emotional contagion toward him.

It reassures you.

So leaving him now worries you.

You'll miss him a bit, at first.

You've been inseparable for years.

Cough.

Honestly, you got lucky.

You might've died.

You don't look pleased.

I don't know.

I don't know what to think.

What happens now?

Feeling afraid's normal, right?

You're coming home?

You're leaving me?

Let me talk to my inner bitch.

Can I come with you?

You don't mind?

Sure, why?

Because I like you.

Fine by me, but him, I don't know.

What's wrong?

It's a problem?

I find it a bit weird.

You're jealous?

Most likely.

Sorry, but I need to tell her.

You were right.

I couldn't admit it,

but it wasn't just for sex.

I felt good with you.

I often missed you.

I'll miss you a lot.

I'll miss you, too.

So...

I hurt you, I know.

I'm sorry.

We hurt each other.

But hey...

May I?

See you.

Give the kids a kiss for me.

It's better they don't see this,
at their age.

Take care of yourself.

And try to enjoy it.

Quit acting the fool.

I can come back, I won't be far.

I know.

Go on.

HIM

Subtitles: Simon John

Subtitling: HIVENTY