refused to see reason. So I decided to give it up, and just step away from the chaos for a little bit
I decided to go for a walk, and I walked out of the hotel after throwing on my jacket, and I just kept on walking. 1 was seething so much that everyone around me must have noticed, because they started to give me a wide berth after a single look at me. This was all Isabel’s fault, and as much as I tried to rein my emotions in, I just couldn’t do it. How could anyone be this infuriating? Why couldn’t you just listen to a suggestion? And she actually had the audacity to tell me that I could leave if I didn’t want to work with them. What happened to being professional?
This trip was turning out to be a mistake. Maybe after a few days of getting to cool down, everything would get better. We still had four more days in the city, and I fully intended to make the most of it. But for now, I couldn’t wait to part ways with Isabel and her condescending crew.
I soon found myself standing on the Pont des Arts, where I stood and just stared down at the waters of the Seine.. Being a popular tourist attraction, there were so many people there. I felt somewhat at ease standing there, my coat drawn tightly around me against the biting cold. There were a few couples who were taking pictures, while others were just holding each other and soaking in the moment. I remembered that this was a popular spot because couples would often come with a lock and key, where they would write down their initials and attach the lock to the bridge, as a symbol of their love. I shook my head as I stared down at a few locks, ahollow feeling settling in my chest. I suddenly felt so lonely, and I thought about calling Chris. But that wasn’t fair on him. I didn’t want to lead him on simply because I was feeling lonely. I’d already accepted that I needed to end things once I got back to London, because the longer I kept things going, the harder it would be to eventually let him
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Chapter Thiny
down easy. Things were bad enough as It is, and I didn’t need to complicate things.
My fingers suddenly wrapped around a familiar plece of paper, and my breath caught in my chest. I pulled it out. and read it for the millionth time, and I once again debated whether I should call him or not.
It had been three days since we came to Paris, and in that time, I’d thought about calling Ethan a billion times already. I’d stared at his phone number so many times that’d memorised It already. Every time I thought I could bring myself to do it, something always held me back. And didn’t even know what it was.
It didn’t make any sense. Why did I feel this need to talk to im? It was as if every second I spent away from him. was suffocating, and I just wanted to see him again. I needed to hear his voice, to have those eyes staring deep into my soul again. I felt like an addict who had gotten a taste of that high once again, and it scared me so much that I didn’t know what to do with myself.
Maybe it was the fact that he looked just like Marcus, but he was better In every way. He was like the man I’d fallen for initially, before the cracks started to show and I soon realised that I’d fallen for the devil. Ethan was like a better version of my ex–husband, with all the negative sides stripped away. He wasn’t trying to charm or love- bomb me the way his brother had in the beginning. Instead, he just seemed like he wasn’t trying genuinely interested in me, and I was also interested in him. Mostly because I wanted to know what happened between him and Marcus that drove such a wedge between them, but there were other things I needed to know as well.
And yet, I always felt guilty when I remembered that I hadn’t told him I used to be married to his brother. Maybe he knew, and he was just waiting for me to say it. Or maybe he was genuinely clueless, in which case I knew how awful it would be when I finally revealed the truth about what happened. It didn’t seem like the brothers were communicating in any way, but he must have seen me and Marcus a few times together, right? Maybe in the papers or while scrolling through I*******m. It didn’t seem possible that he would be completely oblivious to our relationship.
I groaned as I look up at the sky. This was just so infuriating. I could take it anymore. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to know more, and he was the only one who could give me answers. Maybe I could tell him I was willing to trade information with him. If he told me what happened between him and Marcus, I would tell him the truth about my relationship with his brother. That seemed fair enough.
But right as I pulled out my phone, I realised that I was trembling all over and I quickly put it back in my pocket. I just couldn’t do it. Seeing him was bringing back so much shit that I thought I’d dealt with, and there was no need to fan that flame. I needed to stay away. That much was obvious. The longer I stayed away, the easier it would be to detach myself from everything. I was done with the Reynard family, and I had no intention of looking back.
“Excuse me, mademoiselle,” someone suddenly said behind me, and I turned around to find a small old man carrying a basket of red roses. He smiled at me, offering one to me with trembling hands. “For you.”
“Oh, thank you,” I said, shaking my head. “But I’m not really in a rose–buying mood.”
“Ah, don’t worry,” he said in English, still offering it to me. “The rose is free. Your smile is payment enough.”
“Merci beaucoup!” I said, accepting the rose from him. “You’re too kind.”
“It’s not always you find a beautiful lady standing alone by the Seine,” he said. “What troubles you?”
“It’s nothing.” I said, staring down at the beautiful rose and sighing contentedly. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course,” he said. “Love can be a very powerful and confusing thing, no?”
“I didn’t say it was about love,” I pointed out.
“But it is written all over your face,” he said. “Do not be afraid, mademoiselle. Your heart will find a way through this. You know yourself better than you think you do. Trust yourself, and know that whatever decision you take is going to be the right one.”
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His words left a hollow feeling in my chest, and I felt myse tearing up already. Looked up at the sky, wiping away the tears before they started to flow.
“You wouldn’t understand,” I said. “It’s just so frustrating and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”
Η
“You should talk to him,” he said, placing a gentle hand on any arm. “Whatever it is, I promise you’ll feel better after talking to him.”
I’d barely registered what he’d said in my head before he turned around and walked away, hawking his roses to a nearby couple. I was shaken to the core, and I stared at himn disbelief. How did he seem to know exactly what was bothering me? And how did he know that I was contemplating whether I should call Ethan or not. Was he a psychic or something? Or was he sent by Ethan to try and encourage me to give him a call? The whole thing seemed so strange, and I just couldn’t believe what had happened.
But his words emboldened me. I grabbed my phone and quickly dialled the number without even needing to look at the paper he’d written it on, and I dialled before I could stop myself. My heart was beating wildly in my chest, and I almost pulled the phone away and hang up. But I forced myself to stay there, and I held my breath as it started to ring.
“Hello?” Ethan said as soon as he answered.
I couldn’t say anything. His voice still seemed like Marcus was the one talking to me. I just couldn’t get past that, no matter how hard I tried.
“Olivia?” he said, and I smiled as he said my name. I didn’t even want to guess how he knew it was me.
“Hi, Ethan,” I said.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to call,” he said.
“I didn’t know I was going to either,” I replied. “How are you?”
“Exhausted,” he replied. “But better now that you’ve called How’s Paris treating you so far?”
“It’s equally beautiful and infuriating,” I said.
“That’s France for you,” he chuckled. “But it’s great to hear from you. I’m so glad you called.”
“I–I needed to talk to you about something,” I said. “Do you think you can do lunch soon?”
“That won’t be possible,” he replied. “Too much work. But how about dinner? I can pick you up at seven. Does that sound okay?”
“Great,” I replied. “See you then.”
“Bye, Liv,” he said before hanging up, and I leaned against the lamppost beside me and sighed heavily, my heart still racing.
What did I just do?
