23
“I hated them then, and chances are, I hate them now.”
“You barely even tried them. You licked one then screwed your face up all adorable.”
“There is nothing adorable about me. And there is nothing tasty about snails.”
“Really? Would it kill you to try one after seven years?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not willing to take the risk.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I’ll sit here with my salad while you suck on your snails, thank you.”
Aaron smirks. “You do that.”
I cringe as he eats one. Complete with a shiver. I wipe snail trails from the mat outside my back door, for the love of God. I’m not about to eat the little bastards. The slime and…ugh. No thanks.
“They’re good.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure they’re the most delicious thing on Earth.”
“No. That’s you.”
My fork freezes mid salad-stab. “I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”
Indeed, the couple at the table next to us are listening.
“I’m merely correcting you,” Aaron replies, unfazed by the attention on us from whomever they are.
“Could you save your corrections for private?” I shoot an angry glare to my right, and the couple looks away.
“Absolutely not.” He leans forward, his eyes sparkling, and lowers his voice. “Do you think I’m ashamed of the fact I would substitute every meal for your coming in my mouth?”
I run my tongue along my bottom lip. “No.”
“Then be quiet and finish your lunch.”
I stab a piece of lettuce with a force it doesn’t deserve. “Merde,” I mutter.
Aaron smirks. “Most know bonjour as their primarily used French word. Of course my woman knows merde.”
“You taught me it.” I chew slowly. “It’s an easy word to remember.”
I set my fork down beside my plate and ignore his lowered chuckle. My eyes scour the view outside our window until they fall on the familiar shape of the Louvre. My heart skips a beat. My favorite place in the world.
“I know what you’re looking at.”
“Please,” I ask without taking my eyes from it. “I promise it’ll be the only time I’ll make you come with me.”
He grins and waves at a waiter for the bill. “I was waiting for you to ask.”
Excitement builds, and I smile at him as he pays. Outside the restaurant, I skip along the cobbled street—in my flats—toward the museum.
“You look like the girl I fell in love with all those years ago.”
I turn to face him. “Being back here with you, I feel it.”
He catches up with me and takes my hand in his. His lips brush across my knuckles, and he pulls me closer to the Louvre. “I’m going to hate every second of this, aren’t I?”
“It’s likely.” I lean into him slightly. He loops our arms over my head so they circle my body, pulling me closer to his side. I fit perfectly against him, and I smile as I remember the endless hours we spent exploring the city exactly this way.
If I close my eyes and believe hard enough, it almost feels like no time has passed. Like we could be here for the very first time, just getting to know each other and falling for the first time. I can kid myself that I’m only just finding out how his touch silences the rest of the world and his kiss sends me into a heady spiral of bliss.
I can pretend that I’m only just finding out that looking in his eyes is the best and worst thing a girl can do.
Nothing has changed. Irrespective of my job or the time passed, nothing has changed. It feels the same as it always has when we’re together.
Being with Aaron is effortless. Just like loving him, waking up to his electric eyes and smirking lips each morning feels so natural that I can’t remember it not being so. The time without him far outweighs the time together, but that doesn’t make the slightest difference.
And the idea of being without him again makes my stomach clench painfully.
The thought of not waking up to a ready-made pot of coffee, to rumpled sheets on the other side of the bed, to his lips brushing across a part of my body, sinks in deep and claws at every part of me.
I squeeze my eyes shut. No matter how it hurts, how hard it will be to say goodbye, how hard it will be to leave such a pivotal part of my life behind, it has to be done.
Nothing can last forever.
I open my mouth but Aaron speaks before I can. “Wait here.”
He releases me and strolls down a tiny street, disappearing into a small building. I stare after him in shock. What the hell?
I wrap my arms around my waist, suddenly feeling a chill from the gentle spring breeze without his arms around me. My foot taps as I wait. What the hell is he doing?
He reemerges a few moments later, a small bag in his hand. I frown. His face is stretched into a grin, his eyes sparkling with the boyish charm that endeared me to him originally, and he stops in front of me.
“Here.”
“A brown paper bag?”
“Just open it.”
I unfold the top, the paper rustling as I do, and reach inside. My fingers wrap around a ball chain, and there’s a small clink as I pull it out.
“Oh my god.”
The Eiffel Tower charm at the end is sandwiched by a star charm and a red glass heart. The bag crumples in my fist as the necklace flattens in my in palm, my jaw slack.
Aaron grins and takes it from me. “I can’t believe the store is still here.”
“Me either.”
He steps behind me and unclasps the necklace. He settles it around my neck and pauses. “Do you remember?”
Do I remember? How could I forget? We were standing in the same place seven years ago when he first gave me a necklace identical to this. It was a crazy, impulsive buy, and he said that he’d bought it firstly because of the Tower.
“The Tower for your love of it and the place we first met,” he murmurs, redoing the clasp. His finger trails over my shoulder alongside the chain as he turns me to face him. “The star for what I see whenever I look in your eyes…”
“And the heart so I’ll never forget I have yours,” I finish for him in a whisper. I reach my hand up and my fingers curl around the charms. “Like I could.”
“Just in case.” He kisses me sweetly.
I reach into my purse and unzip the back pocket. I grab a chain exactly like the one hanging around my neck and tug.
“You still have it.” Aaron takes it from me in awe. “I don’t believe it.”
I tear my eyes, which are filling with tears, from the necklace and find his. “I promised you I’d never forget.”
I wake to an empty bed—something I’m more than used to—and the sound of Aaron talking in an agitated tone in the other room. After rubbing my eyes and pulling on my robe, I pad through silently.
“Yes.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Jesus… I’m not supposed to be working this week. You know that, Dad… Fine… Yes. We’ll be there… Okay. Bye.”
He drops the phone on the floor and drops back on the sofa. His arm rests over his eyes, and he sighs heavily.
“That doesn’t sound like a great way to start your day,” I say softly.
“It’s not!”
I say nothing at the sharp tone in his voice and flick the coffee machine on. I refuse to do anything to make him feel better if he’s going to snap at me like an angry puppy.
“Sorry,” he says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” I pour a cup of coffee. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? If not, I’m going to shower.”
He laughs quietly, but I can still feel the tension in his body. Like he’ll snap if you push him too far. “Someone I’m not particularly fond of heard we’re in Paris this week. They’ve taken the liberty of organizing a company dinner here at the hotel tonight, and my father just informed me that we’re expected to attend. Required to, actually.”
“What if we had plans?” I step away and raise an eyebrow.
“We did.” He sighs heavily and leans against the counter. “Now we have new ones. Believe me. I’m not happy about it, Day.”
“Can’t you just explain you’re not working this week? That this is a vacation?”
“No.”
“Well, who is it?”
“Who?”
I click my tongue. “The person organizing it.”
“Oh. No one important. I’m not sure they’ll even be there.” He turns away and pours a cup of coffee.
“Aaron.”
“Leave it, Dayton.”
Ass. I put my mug down with a little too much force and storm into the bedroom. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to stay in this room with him in a mood like this.
I change into some workout gear and pack a change of clothes and a bikini in my bag. A session in the gym and the pool followed by the spa should give him enough time to calm the hell down.
“Look, I have a couple of calls to make now. Maybe you should go out for a couple of hours.”
I put my hand on the door and look at him. My mild annoyance has morphed into anger, and I’m not afraid to tell him that I’m pissed off. “I was planning to stay out all day. Don’t worry.”
“Day…”
I yank the door open. “What time do you need me back here?”
“Four,” he sighs.
“Perfect. Don’t bother calling me unless you’ve pulled your head from your ass and calmed the f*ck down.” I slam the door behind me with a childish satisfaction.
I’m not above using teenager-style defiance to let him know that I’m pissed off either.
It’s still early, so the gym is empty aside from two older guys on the rowing machines. I snap a band from my wrist and tie my hair back, heading toward the treadmill. If anything is going to work out this annoyance, it’s the treadmill.
I ease into it, starting off with a slow walk and gradually building up to a steady run. My feet pound against it with every step, and I turn the incline up a little more.
Why can’t he tell me who’s organizing the dinner? Or, more to the point, why won’t he? I know he said he isn’t fond of them, but sheesh…
Maybe it’s an old friendship turned sour. It happens in business, right? It’s a ruthless world. Or maybe it’s someone who works at the company he doesn’t like very much and is doing it to spite him.
Maybe it’s an ex-girlfriend.
I choke on my thought. God, it actually burns to think that—but it’s possible. He’s bound to have seen someone—maybe more than one someone—in that time. She could work at the company still.
But why can’t he just tell me about any of those? What about any of them is so bad that he has to keep it to himself and talk to me like I’m a petulant child when I ask?
Well, there goes burning off my anger.
I give up on the running and leave the gym as quickly as I came. The pool. Water. That’s what I need—the weightless feeling of being suspended by its remarkable force. Perhaps it’ll take away some of my crap weighing me down.
God knows there’s enough of it.
I change quickly and dive into the empty pool. I push tiny hairs away from my eyes and bob in the water.
Just when I’d decided it was worth it to stay. To give up everything I have in Seattle and take a completely different path in my life.
Just when I’d decided to give him what he’s asked for, this happens, and now I doubt my ability to make the right decision.
Maybe it’s good I couldn’t tell him yesterday.
I probably made it impulsively and need more time to make such a huge choice.
But as I dip below the water and jump into my first length of the pool, I know it’s a good thing I couldn’t tell him yesterday. My gut says so.
It also says that the happiness I’ve finally found again is too good to be true.
And everyone knows that gut instincts are never, ever wrong.
Aaron’s waiting for me when I enter the suite with an almost bashful look on his face. I raise my eyebrows and head straight into the bedroom without speaking a word to him. I know he follows—and I don’t care.
A long, strapless black dress is laid out on the bed. It’s one of mine. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his presumptuous nature and drop my bag next to my suitcase.
“Are you going to ignore me?”
“Are you going to talk to me like I deserve to be spoken to, or am I still your outlet for your annoyance?”
He folds me into his arms and breathes in deeply, burying his face in my hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was wrong to take it out on you.”
“F*cking right you were.” I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest. “Don’t do it again.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. Next time I won’t be so nice to you, nor will I walk away. Talk to me like crap again, Mr. Stone, and I’m going to tear you a new a*shole. Got it?”
He bends his face into mine with a smile playing on his lips. “Got it.” He takes my mouth with his.
“Are you going to tell me who has you in a bad mood yet?” I pull away and change. His eyes rove over me as I change from my sports bra to a blue lace one.
“Someone from my past who delights in making my life incredibly hard.” He discards his shirt and pulls a new one on. “If there were a way to get out of this tonight, you can bet I’d find it.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine disliking someone that much.” I step into the dress and reach around to pull up the zipper. “Who is it?”
Aaron doesn’t say a word as he knocks my hand away and does the zipper for me. He rests his forehead against the back of my shoulder, his fingers still clasped on the pull, and exhales loudly.
“Aaron?”
“The person organizing tonight is my wife.”