‘We need to replenish your energy levels after last night and a queen deserves a breakfast fit for royalty on her special day. The restaurant can also make us pancakes, eggs or whatever you want. I wanted to wait to ask what you would like to eat before I ordered anything so it would not get cold.’
‘Merci beaucoup.’ I stood in front of Gabriel and wrapped my arms around his waist. ‘Honestly, I really appreciate this. It’s not even nine in the morning yet, and this is already the best birthday ever.’
‘De rien.’ He kissed me. ‘So what would you like? French toast? Pancakes? Eggs?’
‘Surprise me!’ I said, still struggling to take in the fact that I was sitting on a gorgeous patio with sea views and an epic breakfast that’d been organised by an incredible man. It still felt like a dream.
In the end, I ate a lot more than I thought. Everything just tastedsogood. Just like I’d noticed in Paris, the bread and pastries here were delicious. I didn’t know whether they used different flour, butter or culinary magic, but the Love Hotel chefs knew how to make food that tasted like it was made by gastronomic angels. It was going to be so hard to go back to eating supermarket croissants when I returned to London.
After my shower, I looked in the mirror.
My cheeks looked flushed and my skin had some kind of magical glow to it. I remember reading an article years ago that said that sex increases the blood flow to the skin which gives you a glow that’s better than using an expensive make-up highlighter and I’d scoffed because that had never happened to me.
But today, I totally agreed. My skin looked… radiant. Who needed facials? A few orgasms from my hot Frenchman had worked wonders.
I dropped my towel to the floor and stared at the full-length mirror. I ran my hands over my stomach and thighs. Yeah, of course the cellulite and stretch marks were still there, but that was normal. And actually, my skin was really soft, my thighs weren’t as flabby as I’d thought and my backside looked pretty good.
My boobs weren’t as perky as in my twenties, obviously, but they were still in pretty decent shape and judging by the way Gabriel was licking and sucking on them yesterday, he didn’t have a problem with them either.
Yeah, I said to myself as I did a little twirl in front of the mirror.
Not bad for forty-one.
Not bad at all.
After grabbing my phone, I looked at the photos I’d downloaded from the Love Passport folder link the hotel had provided and scrolled to the ones taken by the I Love You Wall. Gabriel was right. I did have a nice smile. And I looked good. Happy.
I put my hands on my hips and did a sassy pose, then whispered, ‘I love me.’ Then I remembered Gabriel mentioning that Lizzo ‘Soulmate’ song.
Once I’d found the playlist Gabriel made, I brought up the track then turned up the volume. When it got to the chorus, I looked in the mirror, smiled at myself as I repeated the words ‘damn, she the one’ and ‘yeah, I’m in love’.
I felt like a bit of a self-centred idiot in the beginning, but by the end of the song, I was fully into it.
‘Hell, yeah!’ I cried out. ‘I’m not perfect, but I’m a good person. I deserve happiness. I deserve good things. I deserve love. I… I love myself!’ This time I didn’t whisper. I said it loud and proud.
Warmth flooded my chest. I felt good. Better than I had in years. And it was all thanks to Gabriel.
He’d helped me to realise that I was worthy. That I deserved to think of myself and put myself first. Not in a selfish way, but in a way where I wasn’t always sacrificing my own needs. This was healthy.
I was going to continue this positivity and declare that I loved myself in the mirror every day until it became as natural as breathing.
I literally floated out of the bathroom, then asked Gabriel to give me a clue about where we’d be going so that I’d know what to wear. He told me it didn’t matter, so I opted for a plain blue dress I’d found at the charity shop in town.
Now that I was in the French Riviera, a place renowned for glamour and style, my clothes felt really out of place, but I had to make do.
‘You look beautiful as always,’ Gabriel said as I scrutinised myself in the mirror.
‘It’s not exactly Côte d’Azur chic, but it’s the best I have,’ I said, trying to stay positive.
‘Come.’ Gabriel took my hand. ‘We should go.’
As we walked to reception, I inhaled the beautiful sea air and admired the grounds as a gardener trimmed a hedge.
‘Should we book a taxi or a driver?’
‘Laila.’ Gabriel stopped and looked at me. ‘You do not need to worry about a single thing today. Let me take care of you.’
‘Oh. Okay!’ I smiled.
