Twenty One
TWENTY ONE
FRANCESCA
A dorable pastel covered houses lined the cobbled street, balconies teaming with burgeoning wisteria and ivy. While I’d never been to Paris before, it filled me with a warmth that very much felt like home. Like a piece of me had been waiting there for me to come and scoop it back into my soul.
The sun heated my face, a light breeze ruffling my skirt as I passed from the pretty street into another, this one busier. People gathered on wobbly tables outside of a cafe, coffees and pastries nestled beside phones and magazines.
My mouth watered at the array of breads and pastries in the charming window display. I couldn’t resist it.
A table nestled next to the end of the lemon-coloured building, a little ricketier than the others and with only one chair. I squeezed past the tables, smiling at the bubbling of french coming from the patrons.
Within a quarter of an hour, I had a cappuccino and a réligieuse au chocolat in front of me.
Taking a sip of the coffee, I closed my eyes and inhaled, letting reality wash over me. I’d done it.
I’d graduated. I’d left. And now… I was in France for the first stint of a year of learning what I wanted to learn. Of immersing myself in food and adventure.
And I was finally closer to Alex.
Not close enough, though. With nearly a year having passed since we last saw one another anywhere outside of a screen, I’d expected his fervour for me to have waned.
But he’d been there, across the ocean but there, through every step of my final year. Listened to my frustrations, laughed at mishaps, coached me through annoyances. When my parents had threatened to cut me off, he’d helped me pay for my first patisserie course in a cute little village in France. Three months of intensive training under a chef I’d spent years following.
He believed in me.
Placing my cup down, I admired the religieuse, its perfect collar of coffee flavoured icing around the smaller choux bun, the decadent topping of chocolate on top. The buns pulled apart, sticky chocolate coating my finger tips.
I let out a moan as I bit into the crust, coffee cream filling my mouth.
God damn.
The wait to get there was worth it. An overwhelming peace drifted over me, a feeling that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. That my path had finally aligned with my purpose.
My phone pinged, Alex’s name popping up.
‘Hey pretty girl, how’s Paris?’
I smiled, licking chocolate and cream from my fingers before picking up my phone.
‘It’s AMAZING! I love it here. Wish you were here.’
‘How’s the apartment?’
I sent him a set of pictures I’d taken the night before of the cute little apartment around the corner, as well as one I took off my seat at the cafe table, the picturesque street in the background.
‘It’s fab. And I’ve just eaten the most delicious pastry.’
I took a picture of my half eaten religieuse, the menu on the table behind.
‘I’m so happy for you, baby. You deserve it.’
I couldn’t keep the grin off of my face, my chest swelling with pure contentedness.
‘Thank you. I miss you. Can’t believe it’s still three months before I get to London.’
‘Do you really wish I was there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Look up.’
My brows knitted as his message came in. Look up?
I glanced upward, seeing nothing but buildings and sky.
‘Not that far up.’ A deep English accent came from my left.
My stomach filled with butterflies. I looked up, Alex’s perfect face in front of me. My brain didn’t catch up to the picture in front of me.
‘You’re here?’ I said on an exhale.
‘I’m here.’
I was in his arms before I could take another breath.
And while Paris had restored a piece of my soul, being wrapped in his arms was home. The instant his arms curled round my spine, and his lips found mine, I burst into happy tears.
The months of waiting washed away, our kisses growing salty as I laughed and cried against his mouth.
‘When did you get here?’
‘I flew in this morning. I couldn’t be so close and so far. I had to see you. I hope it’s okay?’
‘It’s better than okay. It’s amazing.’
Our mouths melded in another deep kiss, growing slower and more tentative, learning one another’s rhythms all over again.
‘How long can you stay?’ I asked when I broke the kiss.
‘Three days. If you’re happy to share a bed?’
‘Oh, I’d be ecstatic to share a bed.’
And there, in the most romantic city in the world, I started my next chapter with the man of my dreams, following the life I’d always dreamt of.
‘I need to tell you something,’ Alex said, a little furrow forming between his brows.
‘What?’
‘I love you, Francesca. I’ve loved you since last summer. And I’ve regretted not telling you every minute since.’ Sincerity washed over his features, sending warmth expanding through me.
‘You love me?’
‘Fuck, yes. You’re amazing, beautiful, smart, funny. I fell for you the very first day we met.’ His voice deepened, and I fought back a fresh wave of giddy tears.
‘I love you, too.’ I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses.