I knew Sébastien wanted to do it. I had never heard him so excited. And even though every part of me revolted to the idea of not hearing from him for months on end, I also wanted him to be happy. I told him he was crazy for even thinking about it. Take the job, I wrote. I will be here waiting for you. Waiting for October 5th and 2:00 p.m. to come.
The last time I had heard from him was three months ago when he landed in Beijing. Instead of emailing like we had agreed upon, he called. We stayed on the phone for hours talking about everything and nothing at all. Just like how it had been in Paris, but lovelier, far lovelier. Also, there’s something to be said about phone sex. We fell asleep listening to each other that night, the distance becoming a meaningless nothing for some brief, halcyon hours.
Life went on …
And three months later here I am, missing him with an ache in my soul. Whenever my mind begins to drift away with maybes and what-ifs, I shut it down. Fear is one big bitch, but turns out I’m an even bigger bitch because I am done, done, letting it control me.
“But he’ll be there.” I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me stands tall and proud. She earned it. She worked hard to get here. She smiles, her eyes glowing. “I know it.”
“That’s the spirit.”
My eyes land briefly on the clock hanging on the wall, noticing the time. 12:45 p.m., and my heart skips a beat. “All right, Gigi. I have to go.”
“I want all the filthy details later.” She pauses, sobering up. “Good luck, my friend.”
“Thank you. Oh, before I forget, I told Linda she could have the weekend off.”
“Already got it under control. I’m going to cover her shift at the store.”
“Wait, what?”
“It’s my store, too, you know? And I’m bored. I figured I could help a little.”
Soon after Sébastien left, I started working for Megan at her flower store in Rye. I learned a lot from that experience. Then one day she came in and told me she was moving to San Francisco. She was done with long distance relationships and was ready to follow her boyfriend there. Don’t think for a moment I didn’t see the irony in that. She asked if I would be interested in buying the store. I had my aunt’s money, and I had been living frugally since leaving William, but my savings were nowhere near the asking price. I was venting about it to Gigi when she surprised me by offering to be my partner and investing the missing amount of money. I knew what she was doing, and I was tempted to refuse her help. I wanted to prove to myself I could thrive on my own. But she made some valid points. She had a lot of money and saw a good investment in me. It couldn’t hurt her, and we would both benefit from it. I ended up accepting. A month later, we were the proud owners of La Bohème Flowers.
“Of course. I love it,” I say.
She chuckles ruefully. “Don’t get used to it. Now go. Even I’m starting to get nervous.”
We say goodbye and hang up. I take one last look at my reflection, butterflies in my stomach. “Ready, Valentina?”
Never been more ready, my heart answers.
I laugh, excitement and nerves running freely in my veins. Reaching for my bag, I leave the hotel where I’m staying and go in search of my future.
But it seems like fate has other plans for me. First, we hit tons of traffic. On the way there, the taxi gets into a car accident. I get out of the car and leave the taxi driver and the angry car owner yelling at each other. Now running very late, I try to look for another taxi. I find one by pure luck. Okay, maybe fate doesn’t hate me after all. I get in and tell the driver where to drop me off.
I look at the time.
1:55 p.m.
Shit.
I realize I’m not going to make it on time, and it makes me want to cry. What if he leaves when he doesn’t see me there? I reach the Eiffel Tower with my prepaid ticket, get in line and take the elevator all the way to the second floor. I rush out, and I’m immediately surrounded by hordes of people. It’s now 2:20 p.m.
Desperation boils inside me as I look around trying to find a man with the devil in his eyes. Then I see him. My ears ring. He’s standing on the other side with his back to me. He’s watching the city. If my heart could fly out of my body, it would be all the way in the sky right now. I go to him, tap him on the shoulder, ready to jump him or kiss him. He turns around, and my heart drops as the stranger stares back at me. I apologize, a false smile on my lips.
2:20 p.m. turns into 2:30 p.m.
As more minutes pass, I keep repeating inside my head that he will come. He will be here. Maybe he hit some traffic, too. Numb, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold onto the hope inside. I forbid it to escape from the cage of my bones.
I sigh. My shoulders drop. The sounds of people laughing and talking around me disappear. Then, I remember the top floor. What if he misheard me? Oh my God, maybe that’s it. I run to the elevator, pressing the button to go up a few times. The elevator arrives. A large group of people gets out.
Except for one.
My entire body starts to shake. My heart explodes in a kaleidoscope of emotions, bursting out of me. His worried gaze locks with mine, and he smiles tenderly. And there it is. Hope, love, happiness exploding from everywhere in me and out of me.
I feel like I’m about to faint. “Sébastien,” I say softly, his name barely a whisper.
“Hello, Valentina.”
My knees give out as Sébastien steps out of the elevator and takes me in his arms, wrapping me in an all-encompassing embrace that swallows me whole. He breathes me in as a tremor rolls over him, and I breathe him. And all the months without each other fall away.
“You came,” I cry, gripping his shoulders hard, afraid to let him go. “You came!”
“Of course I came.” He caresses my wet cheek as he smiles softly into my eyes. “I waited here for a while, but when you didn’t come, I thought maybe I got the floors wrong and went to the top one to look for you.”
“There was an accident,” I say, trying to explain my delay.
He groans. “See, I told you.”
I smile through the tears in my eyes. “So this is how our story ends?”
“No, ma petite chouette.” He smiles back. “This is how our story begins.”
The end.