Page 67 of French Kiss

25

The Sun Shines Brightly

July13

Hôtel de Seine

I slept so wellthat I woke up confused, again, about where I was. This time, we’d had the foresight to close the curtains, so it was dark in the room, adding to the confusion. But I could see the bright light of day beaming through a crack in the drapes, letting me know it was well past dawn and I shouldn’t waste any more of the day in bed.

I could hear sounds from the shower. Josh had always been a morning-shower person. He couldn’t do anything, even go out for a run, before hitting the shower, even if it meant needing another shower an hour later. “Fortunately,” he was fond of saying, “I don’t often get up and go for a run.”

Wanting to pick up where we’d left off the night before, I was tempted to open the bathroom door and join him in the shower. The feeling of warm contentment hadn’t left me as I slept, and I couldn’t wait to be near him again. But I decided to let him have his shower ritual in peace.

Among the clothes I’d draped over the desk chair, I recalled that I’d left a big T-shirt and a pair of shorts, my usual sleep attire, so I grabbed those and put them on. I saw that Josh had picked up his own clothes off the floor and laid them on the settee next to the writing desk. Then I noticed the folded envelope containing the letter from Maddox sticking out from the pocket of his shorts. I felt a new round of stinging rejection, a version of how I’d felt two days earlier when I’d refused to read it, so angry and humiliated. I wondered why Josh hadn’t just tossed it in the trash. Maybe he’d forgotten it was there.

I felt curious all of a sudden, wanting to know what Maddox had said. It won’t change anything between Josh and me or make me think much less of Maddox, so why not read it? I slipped it into my hand, looking at the outside of the envelope where my name was written in block letters. Maddox had addressed the letter to me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel like I’m snooping by pulling it out of Josh’s pocket?

It was silly. I opened the envelope and took out the lined piece of paper. He hadn’t written much, but as I scanned the lines of his letter, I realized he’d said something entirely different from what Josh had led me to believe.

Dear Hannah,

First and foremost, I owe you an apology. Picturing you waiting for me makes my heart ache, and I never wanted to hurt you. I need you to understand that I didn’t bail on you because I don’t care about you. I did it precisely because I do. I think I’ve always put you on a pedestal, and in my deepest, darkest insecure places, I worry that I don’t deserve someone like you and I’ll never measure up to your expectations. So I can’t come and meet you in Paris. I’m afraid I’d be a disappointment. I’d rather have you remember me as someone you could have maybe loved a little bit and always think of me as a better person than I really am.

You deserve the best of everything, and even if that isn’t me, I hope you’ll understand why I didn’t come meet you in Paris. I know it would have been a night to remember. And I’ll probably regret it for the rest of my life.

Your pal,

Maddox

Josh had toldme that Maddox met someone else and bailed on me.

I felt my stomach drop and nausea washing over me when I thought about what Maddox had written and realized Josh had outright lied. I was still standing there, holding the letter, when Josh came out of the bathroom.

“Oh, you’re up. I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said.

When I turned, the letter still in my hand, the color drained from his face. Clearly, he knew what the letter said, and he’d made Maddox sound like an asshole. The letter cast everything in a different light, and I felt a new confusion toward Maddox along with the disappointment that he hadn’t come to meet me.

Apparently, Josh had concocted his own version of events.

Why would he do that?

I was having trouble processing the betrayal mixed with the overwhelming desire I’d felt for him just minutes earlier. But all that was dripping away, leaving me cold.

“You said he met someone else,” I said. “That’s not what it says here.”

“I didn’t know what to say. You jumped to that conclusion, and I was still trying to figure out what would make you feel the least hurt when he didn’t show. I’d thought about it nonstop on the train ride from Berlin. I just didn’t want you to get hurt, so I figured maybe it was easier to leave it at that. It’s Maddox. He does stupid things. You’d accept that as reason enough for him not showing up.”

“But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t the reason at all. Did you lie to me so you could swoop in and be the hero? Was it just so I’d sleep with you?” Maybe that was a low blow, but I didn’t care.

He looked shocked. “Wow. Give me a little credit.”

“It just feels kinda convenient. You knew he wasn’t coming, so you decided to come meet poor, vulnerable, heartbroken Hannah under the Eiffel Tower so you could be the hero.” I felt nauseous and was starting to shiver, so I grabbed a blanket off the bed and curled up against the headboard, wrapping my arms around myself like a defense against the world.

He came closer to me, the towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his hair. I fought the urge to pull the towel away and push him onto the bed. But no—the feelings I’d had for him the night before were bound up in a lie. I couldn’t separate the two.

“Hannah, just relax a second. It’s a good thing. It doesn’t matter what Maddox’s reasons were. The point is, it got us together. Isn’t that what’s important?”

He didn’t get it. I couldn’t be with him if I couldn’t trust him. “I feel like an idiot. Is that what you were hoping for?”

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