All excuses to not face the man that hurt me, but is willing to go to all of this effort to apologize and make it up to me.
So he lied about being French.I shrug.The positive side is that an American is geographically more conducive to my future plans anyway.He can romance me in two languages and I’ve thought about him every day despite my best efforts not to.Now looking at the situation with distance separating me from the humiliation I felt back in November, the fond memories sneak back in.Maybe it’s time I live a little.Be spontaneous.Maybe it’s time to forgive him.
It’s snowing in Paris.And magical.Just like New Years should be.I keep walking, anticipating the spot up ahead.Though it holds bad memories for me now, I’m hoping to replace them with good ones instead.My heart races and I hold my coat tighter around me, my nerves catching up with me.
There are families all around and festivities, revelers, but not big action from the Eiffel Tower yet.We still have five minutes to go, five minutes to risk it all and try again with a man I thought I knew.I’ll be meeting him tonight like it’s the first time all over again.
Champagne is popped nearby and I laugh seeing it spray all over the guy who opened it.Still walking, I admire the flickering lights of the Eiffel Tower—a sight I didn’t get to see on my last trip.
And then I see him...
His hair is a bit longer.
He looks nervous, not like Olivier at all.
But this is Oliver, so it makes sense.
My body warms when his gaze lands on me.A small smile plays on both of our mouths.
“Bonjour,” he greets.
“Hi,” I reply, not sure if I want to speak in English or French with him, so I go with the old standby.
He moves his head, his full attention on me.“Come here often?”
“Not often enough.”I look around, then back at him finally strong enough to look into his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Kandace.I really am.It seemed fun at first and then...I was in too deep and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“That happened anyway.”
He nods.
But really,is it the biggest sin he could have committed?No, not even close.So I don’t need to torture either of us any longer.I take his hand and say, “Thank you for the gifts, the reminders, and the ticket.You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.And,” he says, quickly glancing over his shoulder at the Eiffel Tower, “You were the only one I wanted to kiss at midnight.It’s almost time.What do you say?”
There’s no big countdown or production, just two people throwing caution to the wind and choosing to be together, whether it be for a day or eternity.I have no idea, but because this man before me, kissing me with a passion I’ve only ever felt with him, was strong enough to not only apologize, but try to win me back, I’m willing to find out.
Our mouths part and I slowly open my eyes.“I missed your lips.”
“I missed everything about you.”He smiles, and says, “Now that we’re warmed up...”
He never finishes that sentence.He is way too busy kissing me again and when I pull him closer, we both forget about words and futures, pasts, and lies.All that matters is the here and now.
Moments later, I pull the key from my pocket, I hold it up.“Did you mean what you said?”
“I did.I still do,” he says with his arms wrapped around me, keeping me warm.“I’m renting, but I have options these days.My parents have come around and support my decision to stay here for awhile, so I’m working on my degree again and start back at a university here in a few weeks.”Looking worried, he asks, “How long will you stay?”
