“Calm down?Are you insane?Do you know how much you’ve humiliated me, how dumb I feel?You’ve ruined a trip I’ve dreamed about my entire life and all for your own enjoyment.”
He grabs my arms before I can escape.“Listen to me.Everything I said was true.The person you met, you spent time with, that’s me—”
“No, that’s Olivier.Youare Oliver or are you so detached from reality that you’ve forgotten who you are?”
An accordion player in the distance plays, filling the air with “La Vie en Rose” and my heart begins to thud in my chest.With my hand toward the musician, I say, “That’s what Paris was to me.It was a dream come true.I would have been content to see the major sites and visit museums, eat baguettes at bistros.But you took that away from me, stole it without my permission because I believed you.I believed what you told me and showed me and I fell in love.I hate that I did because again, it makes me feel stupid.But maybe that’s what this trip was about—taking the good and forgetting the bad.You, Oliver, are the bad and I’ll try to forget you and how you affected so much of my trip.”
I turn, slipping my arms out of his grasp and his hands drop away.Without warning, in one last desperate attempt to talk this through, he says, “I fell for you too, Kandace.”Desperately taking my hand, he turns me back around to face him.“We weremeantto meet.We weremeantto be.”
The way he says my name in his native accent isn’t as charming, but I like the sincerity of it.It just came a little too late.It’s then that everything becomes so much clearer.I don’t have to wash my memories away or forget him.I just need to keep our time together in perspective and enjoy what it was.Able to finally see the situation for what it is, I walk to him, touch his cheek.“We aren’t meant to be, Oliver.Weare lost in translation.”
Standing there with the Eiffel Tower as his backdrop, my heart settles as I find peace between us.Handing him his phone, I lift up and kiss each of his cheeks.With a smile, I back away and say, “Au revoir, Olivier.”Then I turn and walk away, leaving him behind as I leave Paris, choosing to take all of my memories with me.
~Four and a Half Weeks Later ~
My alarm goes off,but I don’t want to get up.I’m tired and it’s Saturday.I deserve a day off.Opening my eyes, I know today won’t be that day.I don’t allow myself too much free time or my thoughts wander to a certain American in Paris.Straight to the coffee pot, I start the machine, then the shower.A knock on the door jolts me the rest of the way awake.I shouldn’t have company at seven-thirty in the morning and my roommate went back to Kansas for the winter break, so I have no idea who it could be.I walk to the door of my apartment and peek out, but no one is there.
Finally, I open the door and a small box is sitting on my doormat.Looking around, I see if I can find who delivered it.It didn’t come through the postal service or package delivery because it’s blue with an orange and white striped ribbon around it.I lean down for closer inspection and see a tag.The tiny note reads:
Kandace,
Open Me.
Hrmmm...This is peculiar and totally intriguing.I grab the box and go back inside, securing the deadbolts back in place.
I set the package on the coffee table and watch it for a minute before I remember I have the shower going.Damn it!The hot water has probably already run cold.Hurrying into the bathroom, I shower quickly, taking advantage of the remaining warm water, but think about that package the entire time.
With a towel wrapped around my head and my robe on my body, I pour myself a cup of coffee, then sit on the couch to stare at the mysterious box a little longer.In the few minutes I do, absolutely nothing changes, moves, or gives me any indication to what’s inside.So I take the box in hand and open it.When I lift the lid, I find a miniature silver Eiffel Tower.Picking it up, I turn it around between my fingers and sigh.Thoughts of Olivier cross my mind and my heart starts racing.
Anxiously, I dig under the fluffy filling, but there’s nothing else in the box to tell me where or who it came from.I take a sip of my coffee, then lean back on the couch, remembering Olivier’s...Oliver’s face, his smile, what he looked like when he was sleeping, the way he made me feel before his lies were discovered, and the tears in his eyes when I kissed him goodbye.
I set the Eiffel Tower down on the table and stand.One last glance is given toward the door wondering who was on the other side of it just minutes before.
The library is alwaysempty around the holidays, which is why it’s my favorite time of the year to be here.Most people are recovering from Christmas to bother with spending time in a dusty room full of old books.But I love it.There are a few other sad souls like myself jumping ahead on their spring schedules, but other than that, just staff is here and they’re scarce.Two of my professors gave me the syllabus early, knowing I like to work ahead and be prepared.
I look out the large window next to my table and watch as people pass by.This is my favorite corner of the library.It has a great view and is set away from the main books and other large rooms, giving me more privacy.
