"I followed you," I admitted.
Her eyebrows shot up.
"Not like that," I added quickly. "I was looking out for you. I figured we'd bump into each other again, and when I saw you from a distance, I tried to catch up. Didn't manage it until you'd already stepped into the orgy."
We both paused.
Then we laughed—real, unguarded laughter that broke whatever tension was left.
"That's not something that happens back home," Mila said, shaking her head.
"Yeah, well. Paris is full of surprises."
The waiter returned with our coffee and a plate stacked high with pastries—croissants, pain au chocolat, something with almonds that looked like it had been touched by God himself.
The smell hit me like a freight train.
I was suddenly, violently hungry.
The waiter set the plate down with a flourish, and I motioned for Mila to pick first.
She did, carefully selecting a small almond pastry.
Then I attacked.
I grabbed a croissant, tore into it, reached for the pain au chocolat before I'd even finished the first bite. Flakes scattered across the table. I chased it with espresso, barely tasting anything, just feeding the gnawing emptiness in my stomach.
It took me a full minute to realize Mila was staring at me.
Amused.
I paused, pastry halfway to my mouth, suddenly aware of how feral I must look.
"Sorry," I mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate. "I was hungry."
"Yeah," she said, grinning. "I noticed."
We both laughed again, and I forced myself to slow down. To actually taste what I was eating. To drink the espresso like a human instead of an animal.
The sugar and caffeine hit my system, and I felt almost whole again. Almost human.
"So," Mila said, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. "How's your vacation going?"
I swallowed. "Okay. Beats home."
"Where's home?"
"Brooklyn."
Her eyes brightened. "I've been to New York. The city, I mean. Not Brooklyn."
"You're not missing much," I said.
She tilted her head. "Do you ever go back?"
"No." The word came out harder than I meant it to. "There's nothing for me there anymore."
The air between us shifted, and I realized how harsh that sounded.
