“Thanks, Mom,” I say as a tear slips over my smiling lips.
In my periphery, I see Jules and Freya, waving at me that it’s time to go.
“Mom, hang on,” I say before covering my phone with my hand. “You guys take the car. I’m gonna walk.”
“You sure?” Freya asks.
I hold up the phone. “Yeah, I want to catch up.”
This makes her smile, clinging to Julian’s side. The two of them disappear into the black car as I stroll along the streets toward home.
It’s a beautiful summer evening in Paris, the perfect night to catch up with my mom. While I walk, I tell her everything about Freya and Julian, from the elevator ride to the restaurant.
She catches me up on my sister, who is currently going back to school for her second master’s degree and is apparently taking over the family business and butting heads with Nash the entire way.
We talk about my brother a bit and how he’s been sending information back to my mother about me like some covert spy.
“I swear he acts like my dad more than my brother,” I complain with a lighthearted tone.
“Well, our family was never very conventional,” she laughs.
“No one’s is,” I reply. Her laughter makes me so homesick, the words blurt out of my lips before I can stop them. “You should come out and meet them. All of you.”
“Come to Paris?”
“Yeah,” I reply eagerly.
“Honey, we’ll be there in a heartbeat. All you have to do is say the word.”
“I’m ready, Mom.”
Stopping just before I reach my building, I pause on the street and stare up at the Eiffel Tower in the distance.
“Does that mean Paris is home now? No more running?”
My eyes glide up toward the building, landing on the top floor and imagining the people inside. We might have been forcedtogether by fate or karma or a broken-down elevator, but we were brought together nonetheless. But we’re not stuck together anymore. It’s not like that night in the elevator when we couldn’t escape. Now we have the choice to leave, but we choose to stay. That’s what really matters anyway.
These two are my home, my family, my forever. This is where I’ve landed.
“Paris is home now,” I say with certainty. “I’m done running.”
Rule #42: The ones who push you away the hardest often need your love the most.
Freya
In my dreams, I’m floating over boiling pots and steaming vegetables. Vibrant bursts of color appear in front of me, and I soar through the chalky powder like sailing through clouds.
Then I’m in my kitchen, but instead of noise and chaos, it’s quiet and serene. Archer is there, watching me from across the room as I stir the marsala sauce. He has a delicious, aroused look on his face, as if I’m doing something salacious and erotic.
Looking down, I realize I’m naked, but instead of being filled with embarrassment, I flaunt my body for him, feeling sexual and empowered by it.
Warm hands slide up my thighs, and I press back into them. Knowing it’s Julian, I hum into his touch as he softly whispers in my ear, “Remember when you said I could do this?”
Suddenly, I’m needy and desperate for him. I want his touch, his pleasure, his cock.
He tugs me toward him. Moisture leaks from my core as the need and arousal rises. It’s so intense it almost hurts.
Then Julian thrusts inside me, and I’m no longer inside my kitchen or floating through clouds of color. I’m in Julian’s bed, clutching the sheets tight as he impales me on his cock.
