Heartbeats

At a dinner party, Francis and Marie first meet Nicolas, and all three pretend to have little interest in him, setting a tone of playful reserve. Yet beneath the surface, a curious energy begins to form as they linger in each other’s orbit, trading glances and light banter that slowly draws them into a closer circle.

Over the following weeks, the trio settles into a steady routine. They meet up regularly, talk for hours, share meals, and even end up sleeping in the same bed. What begins as friendship begins to tilt toward something richer and more complicated for both Francis and Marie, who each sense a yearning that goes beyond simple companionship. The atmosphere between them becomes charged with unspoken questions, while Nicolas remains at the center, a magnet around which their feelings orbit.

As Nicolas invites Marie to the theater, both Francis and Marie read each encounter as a sign of growing closeness. The tension intensifies when, after the play, they dine at a Vietnamese restaurant and watch Nicolas take a seat at the far end of the table, isolating Marie in a way that heightens jealousy and longing. The trio’s dynamic is marked by small, telling gestures: Nicolas shares a cherry with Francis, and he openly professes love for both Marie and Francis, a bold confession that unsettles the boundaries between friendship and affection. The three of them become rivals of sorts in their attempt to win his attention, a competition that plays out in the gifts they bring for his birthday, each trying to outdo the other in small, intimate ways.

Their feelings culminate in a vacation to Nicolas’ aunt’s home, where jealousy flares in the wake of a seemingly trivial moment. Marie grows uneasy when Nicolas feeds Francis a marshmallow and suggests he eat it slowly, like a striptease, a scene that cuts to the core of their fragile balance. The morning after, Marie wakes to find Francis and Nicolas frolicking at a distance, and she chooses to leave. Francis pursues, and a tense struggle ensues as they grapple on the ground, while Nicolas watches with disapproval and ultimately decides to walk away. Back home, the absence of Nicolas weighs heavily on each of them as they leave voicemails and, in Marie’s case, a love letter that never fully resolves the conflict.

In time, the emotional tension comes to a head. Francis finally confronts Nicolas and opens up about his love, asking to kiss him. The response is a crushing blow: “How could you think I was gay?” and Francis is left devastated, struggling to reconcile his feelings with Nicolas’ perception of their relationship. When Marie catches up with Nicolas in the street, she reveals that the letter she wrote was intended for a female friend by mistake, not for him, and she awkwardly denies that the note was a confession of love. The moment tightens the knot of ambiguity between them, leaving Nicolas to question how far their feelings might really go, and whether he would be open to such possibilities should the circumstances ever shift again.

A year passes, and the delicate equilibrium among the trio evolves into a nuanced, if unsettled, friendship. At a party, Francis and Marie reject a hopeful attempt by Nicolas to reconnect, greeting him with cool reserve rather than warmth. Yet even as the years pass, the emotional threads remain, and in the final scene, the two of them share a knowing glance with another party guest and walk together toward him. Their moment mirrors the past when they first met Nicolas, as if history were looping back to test whether a different path might finally be possible—or whether they will choose to walk away with the same quiet, stubborn clarity that has defined their relationship from the start.

How could you think I was gay?

This conclusion leaves the audience with a lingering sense of what-ifs and the enduring question of whether love can take multiple forms within a single, intricate bond. The film, through its alternating currents of desire, jealousy, and friendship, paints a portrait of three people navigating the limits of affection, the courage to speak truth to one another, and the delicate balance between longing and loyalty. The final image suggests that connection, however it evolves, remains a powerful force that can redraw the contours of a relationship long after the initial spark has faded.

Last Updated: November 22, 2025 at 15:57