I let out a huge sigh of relief as I snag it from him. I can’t believe I almostlost it right before going home. It’s got to be a sign: time for me to leave. I never should have come here.
The man points at his feet. His own satchel is resting against the table’s leg. “Il était là.”
“Merci beaucoup,” Olivier says. Then to me, “It probably fell when you got up. The tables are so tight. If one person moves, everything shifts.”
My jaw is still clenched as I hook the strap over my shoulder. I could make a bigger fuss, but I want to get out of here more. Unfortunately, Olivier says he’ll walk back to the hotel with me before going out. He wants to get changed, even after I assure him that he looks great as he is. I force a smile all the way down the street, through the lobby, up the elevator, and as we enter our suite. I’m so close to being rid of him.So close.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Olivier says as he kicks off his shoes and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“Not at all. Go! Come back as late as you’d like.”
I nestle into one of the armchairs and study him.
He pulls another shirt from the closet. “How about I order you some room service? And then maybe run you a bath. You could have a little self-care night, and then we’ll do something fun tomorrow.”
“Sounds great! Thank you, Husband.”
Can he hear how fake I sound? Of course I don’t plan on being around tomorrow, but this suite is amazing and I’ve barely enjoyed it. It’s probably too late to leave tonight anyway. I’ll book the first flight out in the morning and slip out while Olivier recovers from his hangover.
“It’s the least I can do,” Olivier says, retrieving the iron and board from the closet. His voice is sickeningly sweet.
“Aww, you’re the best.”
He walks over to his side of the bed, grabbing the room phone. “They make a really good burger here. And how about a nice bottle of wine? You liked the one from earlier, right? I’ll ask if they have the same red.”
“Um, sure. But how do you know the burger is good here? We never ate at the restaurant.”
Olivier’s hand grips tighter around the phone, and it takes him a moment to respond. But when he does, he’s all smiles. “I read the reviews online.”
“Right. Yeah, a burger is great,” I say, getting up.
I go out onto the balcony while Olivier places the order and finishes getting ready, ironing his shirt and spraying himself with his woodsy fragrance. Meanwhile, I get to enjoy this view for a little while longer. Paris really is pretty in that old, antiquated way. I don’t know much about its history, but you can feel it in all of the old monuments, the churches everywhere you look. Maybe Darren and I will come back here on our own honeymoon. Or will he think that’s weird? Obviously we’ll get married now. I’ve shown him proof that I do pretty well as a wife. But first, I should focus on going home. Olivier can’t stop me if he doesn’t know.
When I get back inside, he’s wearing his freshly ironed shirt and lacing up his dress leather shoes. A tray of food has appeared on the bed. The bottle of wine has been uncorked, some of it poured into a big, round glass, and the plate is covered by a metal bell. I lift it up to find a cheeseburger and fries, all juicy and crispy, with a side of ketchup. It makes my mouth water. I never got to have lunch.
“You have a good time, okay?” Olivier says, giving me a peck on the forehead. “I ran you a bath.”
A delicate scent of lavender escapes from the bathroom and, peeking inside, I notice that the tub is covered in a thick layer of bubbly foam.
“Can’t wait!” I say, walking him to the door and waving goodbye before slamming it shut.
Finally, he’s gone.
First things first: I need to book that flight. But when I look inside my bag, my wallet is not in there. I topple its contents onto the bed to be sure, but only my passport, my lipstick, and crumpled receipts fall out.Shit.Ilook everywhere around the room, under the bed, on the nightstand, in the bathroom, and even on the balcony, stopping only to take sips of my wine to calm my nerves.
It’s the same wine we drank at Café de Flore, where my bag went missing for a short while. I never thought to check inside.
No wallet means no credit card; I can’t book a new flight.
Shit shit shit shit.
Reaching for my phone, I fire off a text to Darren.Hey
Hey babe, he responds right away.Babe. It’s like we’re back to our old selves already. It’s all working out perfectly. Well, almost.
Just want to let u know Im leaving. Coming home tmrw
For real? U told him?
