Chapter 35
ANYA
The apartment is empty without Danny in it.
It takes me less than an hour to clean the entire place, my frenzied mind making the process a blurred whirlwind.
Once I’m finished and standing in the middle of a pristine room, I check my phone to see if Danny has messaged. Nothing.
I bite my lip before pulling up his name.
Me: Everything okay?
Before I press send, my phone buzzes in my hand and I answer before really reading the name.
“Hi,” I say with relief.
“Hi Anya, you guys get back okay last night?” Devon’s cheerful voice echoes through the phone.
“Oh uhm, yeah. I got back to my apartment and Danny’s at his hotel room now.” There, that’s definitely not a lie.
Devon chuckles. “Great, listen I’ve booked your train home for tomorrow lunchtime. I’ve sent you the details.” My stomach clenches. That’s it, twenty four hours left in Paris. I hear a door close on the other side of the phone and footsteps on a metal staircase. “Listen, keep this between us but I’m jumping on prep for a new film back in London. It’s not confirmed and probably won’t start for at least a few months, but I would want you to come with me as my production assistant.”
Confusion almost knocks me over. “Me?” I ask numbly.
“Yes, I think you got a pretty short stick on this one, what with ferrying Covington around. You did an amazing job though, he’s definitely been a lot easier to handle than imagined from this end. But I want to see what you can do in production. What do you say?”
My mind spins. Honestly, I woke up this morning thinking my career was over, that I was going to go public with Danny and steer clear of the industry for fears of nepotism allegations smearing my name. But now I’ve got a job offer that’s nothing to do with him, that’s purely because of the connections I’ve made myself.
“I’d love to,” I say breathlessly.
“Lovely, well as I say it’s not had the green light yet, so nothing might come from it, but I wanted to let you know I’m thinking about you. Travel safe tomorrow and enjoy some time at home. I’ll email you in a few weeks with the details.”
I hang up, mind reeling. A few months ago I was ready to give up this industry entirely, but now it looks like I have a chance to keep going. To figure out what’s next. I always thought I’d end up the next Gwendoline Marcs, but being the next Devon might not be so bad either.
My phone still shows the unsent text to Danny. I want to tell him. I want him to be happy for me, to say I deserved it. I delete my message and start again.
Me: When can I see you later? Got my train tickets for tomorrow.
No text bubble appears so I angrily shove my phone in my pocket.
I’m not moping around waiting for a man to message me. I have a new job lined up and it’s my last day in Paris. I’m going out.
I swing my bag over my shoulder and take the stairs two at a time, emerging onto the street a few seconds later.
I’ve been in the city for nearly two months, and almost all of that time has been spent wrapped up with Danny inside these four walls. I need to explore.
I hop on the metro and emerge on the Right Bank. First stop is Musée D Orsay. I wait in a too-long line and emerge into the main hall, large vaulted ceilings allowing light to shower over the delicate sculptures. It’s easy to see how the building was once a train station, the large clock face at the back of the hall looming over the tourists meandering below.
I take my time wandering in and out of every room, my shoes clipping against the hollow floor. I take photos of the famous artwork lining the walls but their beauty seems dull today. I take loops around the museum in a daze and by the time I emerge back onto the street it’s past lunchtime. I check my phone. No word.
I ring my mother as I walk along the river.
“Cabbage,” she greets me, finally tugging a smile to my lips.
“ Coucou mama .”
“ C’est une vrait parisienne .”
I laugh. “Not for much longer. I have my return ticket for tomorrow.”
“I’m so excited to see you,” my mother says.
I look out on the glistening Seine, the water churning past the banks where people sit with their feet dangling towards the water, sharing a bottle of wine.
“Me too.”
“I’m sorry Cabbage, I have to go, my next class is starting.”
We say our goodbyes with a promise to let her know when I’m on the train. I turn away from the river continuing my stroll until I end up in the Marais.
I buy a crépe from a stall but can only manage a few bites before I feel sick and throw it away.
It’s only later when I sit at a cafe with the bags of gifts I’ve bought my mum and Rosie that I let myself think of Danny again. I don’t know what sent him fleeing my apartment, what got him to clam up so much that he was almost unrecognizable from the funny, charming man I’ve come to know.
I glance at my phone again. Still nothing. I click into the message thread but see my message is still on read.
My blood pounds in my ears as I pull up Pip’s name, but I don’t know what to say. ‘ Hey your brother is being weird right when I think our relationship might be ending. ’ Way to sound like a loser. Maybe he’s just decided to end this now, before it gets complicated? Something has to have happened to trigger this, I know it. We went to sleep last night tangled in each other’s arms after a night of laughter and fun. What happened between last night and this morning?
Downing my coffee and regretting the fact that it’s not Irish, I gather my belongings and place my expensive sunglasses over my eyes.
At my building, I stumble up the stairs, my feet heavy from a day of walking away from my problems. I rummage in my bag for my key and finally look up. Danny’s sat outside my door. As he unfurls his long legs, he leans against the door frame, as if exhaustion has taken the energy from his limbs.
I gesture for him to move aside and open the door. We say nothing but I can’t help from leaning slightly into his warmth, savoring what I already know is the last time I’ll be able to do it.
I ignore him as I place my bags on the side table, fidgeting with the paper bags to avoid looking at him.
“I brought wine.” Danny pulls my attention and waves the bottle in his hand. The same one we shared on the bank of the Seine.
“I’ll get the glasses.” There’s no need to drink from the bottle now.