Page 68 of I Love You in French

“Or what about the macarons? I mean ...if someone doesn’t like a macaron, I truly question their character.”

“Oh! Or our marshmallows! Those are perfect for shipping!”

Ishake my head and move to the back of the store to get started on some dishes and to brainstorm the best ways to keep things fresh during shipment. I haven’t told Lily yet, but I’m thinking the first items we put online should be French muffins.

∞∞∞

I’m sitting in a booth at the diner, my head slightly throbbing. I got home, and after all the excitement of the day, I assured Lily I was fine, but as soon as I got in the door, I was hit with sadness again. Not wanting to heat up any more frozen food, I recognized my need for a real dinner and the bravery required to leave the apartment or the shop yet again.

Lucy already brought me a water, but as soon as she sees my face, she brings over the biggest pumpkin pie milkshake I’ve ever seen in my life and tells me it’s free refills tonight. I haven’t even told her I’m not sure I can eat much when the door swings open, and my best friends walk in. Just the sight of them makes me want to cry.

Lily leads the way with Grey and Ivy close behind. Spotting me, they head my way, looks of concern etched across their faces.

“I told you it was bad,” Lily says to them as if I’m not here, waiting for them to tell me why they’ve decided on what looks like an intervention.

“Rory, Lily filled us in,” Ivy says quietly.

“And you’re here to tell me what a mistake I’ve made?” I sniffle and wipe my eyes with the edge of my sleeve.

“No,” Grey says. “We’re here to tell you how much we love you.”

Lily scoffs, and I see the way her jaw tightens. “And to tell you what an idiot you’ve been, but you already knew that.” She winks at me, and I let a laugh escape.

They don’t mention Rafe directly. I think they’re waiting for me to bring him up. And it’s a relief to know they’re not pushing for answers. We order food and sit and eat as they fill me in on what’s been happening in their lives. Grey’s waiting for Boston, her childhood best friend, to return from a business trip so they can take their own adventure up north to see the leaves changing. It’s a bit late for it, but there should be some good moments, just the same.

Ivy doesn’t say much about her own relationships except to tell me how much she loves her ballet students and how she’ll never get over seeing them in their baggy tights and slippers that never seem to keep the bows tied. They’re already practicing for their Christmas show, and I promise I’ll attend. She and I met in ballet class and took classes together all throughout high school. After I had some problems with my hips and things picked up at the bakery, Ivy kept dancing and spreading that joy with our town. I could never imagine a different life for her.

Lucy makes good on her promise to keep refilling our milkshakes, and with my friends, I’m able to eat a proper meal for the first time since Rafe left. My heart sinks thinking about him.

It’s only when we’re laughing about the latest shenanigans from Lily’s adventures on a dating app that I admit to what’s been brewing all along. I can’t seem to find the words to describe what this man has done to my brain and to my heart.

The thing is, Rafe is like the difference between the famous The Great British Bake Off (it’s the UK title) and the French version, Le Meilleur Pâtissier.

I love the British one. I’m obsessed with it. But then you see the French one, and you honestly can’t believe they’re amateur bakers. They make American baking competitions look like school art projects. And I don’t even mean that to be condescending, because I don’t know if I could last in the French one ...and I own a bakery. But, yeah, Rafe is like that. Like every other version of a man I've seen is just a hint, scratching the surface of what's possible.

He must’ve thought the way I communicate is through a lack of words and croissants. My grace and elegance seemed to erode whenever he was near, because I was apparently undone by a man who called me “Sugar” and used to send me GIFS of French bulldogs wearing striped shirts and berets. He also used to send me GIFS of Joey from Friends, usually from when he tried to speak French.

So, let’s talk.

Let’s talk about the fact that I want to run into his arms, wrap my legs around him, and hug him so tight I know what it’s like to be cling wrap. My body is itching to do it. He’s like a magnet. And the more I’m pulled away from him, the more powerful the feeling becomes.

It’s like there’s a remote control somewhere that’s exponentially increasing my attraction to him. So much so that when he would leave and come back before, I’d be incrementally more excited and simultaneously more gutted when he left again. What is this enchantment?

I remember every detail of those days with him. His hands that were too big for the tiny coffee cups we use, so his thumb always stuck out a bit when he tried to pick it up. The eyebrow with the scar through it, lifted when he was trying to determine what kind of mood Lily was in. His eyes would flash whenever he saw me for the first time ...and he did it every time. Even when I came back and forth from the kitchen to the front of the store, it happened (I checked). I remember the way he ran his hand through his hair when he was writing new music and the lyrics were frustrating him. The way he laughed nervously when something was awkward. The way his stubble crossed his face like a master artist had drawn perfect shadow lines across his features. The way he swallowed whenever I got close to him.

Blast. This man has single-handedly redefined my definition of love.

“I really messed up,” I whisper quietly. So softly I don’t think anyone heard. But there’s an immediate clanging of forks and spoons as they drop on the plates and table. Lily has a forkful of pie hovering near her mouth, which is currently half open. She lowers the fork slowly and then reaches for my hand. I avoid her eyes, not wanting to see pity, but when she clears her throat, I look up. There’s only warmth there and a bit of a fierce look that lets me know she means business.

“You did. But the question is, do you know why?”

This is ...not what I was expecting her to say. I look up to Ivy and Grey, who look surprised by this question as well. But the more I ponder it, I do know why.

“Because I thought hiding was safer.” I shrug my shoulders. “You were right.”

“I’m always right,” she says as she lets me go to wave her hand like that’s the most obvious conclusion anyone could come up with at this moment.

We all laugh a little, except Lily, who just has a grin on her face. She motions for me to continue.

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