Page 35 of My Ruthless Husband

Dad is very insightful. I’m grateful that he’s humoring me and not outright interrogating me about Damian. I don’t want to put him in danger. Dad is very protective of me and if I show even an inkling of my feelings for Damian—who’s ten years olderthan me—then Dad wouldn’t think twice before sending him a warning.

“You’re right. I’ll be careful.” I won’t let anyone know about Damian. Specially Derek. “I don’t want to worry you, Dad. You mean the world to me.” I mean every word.

“And you mean the world to me, too. Just remember, sweet pea, I’ll always be here to guide you.”

I smile up at him and we resume our stroll. As we meander through the streets, the conversation is forgotten.

At one point, his steps slows and I look up at him. His eyes hold a mixture of nostalgia and affection, a tender, bittersweet smile gracing his lips as he glances toward the Siene River.

I squeeze his arm in a silent inquiry.

“Sweet pea,” He begins, “this city, it holds a memory that’s very dear to your mother and me.”

My chest aches at her mention. I never had the fortune to know her and still I feel her absence every single day. She gave me life and lost hers in the process.

In the quiet depths of my heart there’s a longing, a yearning for mother’s love. No matter how many years pass, time could never soothe the ache of her absence. I could only imagine his pain. A love cut short. The love of his life was snatched away by fate.

He may not talk about her but I know how much he misses her. His laughs conceal the longing beneath, the ache of living without her. It shows how strong he is.

His gaze flits to the side and settles on a nearby café. “Back when we were younger, before you came into our lives, your mother and I embarked on a romantic Paris holiday.”

“Really?” My eyes widen.

“Yes,” he says, a reminiscent smile playing on his lips. “It was a summer much like this one. We had just finished university and decided to explore Paris together.”

We walk over the bench overlooking the river. Sun was still shining, its golden hues dancing upon the water’s surface.

He continues, “We spent our days wandering these very streets, hand in hand, exploring the city’s hidden corners and savoring its delectable pastries.” His eyes hold a faraway look as if he was transported back to the past. The time when he was with Mom. When he was free from the burden of running a billion-dollar empire.

I lean in, eager to hear more, my heart swelled by the glimpse into their past.

“One evening we found ourselves at a small café as the Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance.”

“That sounds so dreamy.” I say softly.

He smiles. “We sat there for hours.” His voice is soft yet brimming with thick emotions. “Your mother was radiant that evening. She took my breath away.”

I squeeze his arm when his voice cracks.

“We decided to end the night by watching the last light show of the Eiffel Tower. And as if the universe was writing our love story, a street musician began playing a beautiful melody on his violin.”

His words painted a vivid picture and for a second the surrounding dissolves and I find myself staring at my parents. The strains of music echoes in my ear as I watch them lost in a world of their own.

“We danced right there, by the Siene, beneath the starlit sky,” he murmurs, his eyes misting with the memory. “I never visited Paris again after she…”

I lay my head on his shoulder. “Thank you for sharing this place with me, Dad.”

He rests his head atop mine. I wish she was here. I can’t help but long for my mother’s embrace at this moment. As if he heard my wish, Dad wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling meto his side. “She’s right here with us. In every step we take, she walks with us. I believe she always has and she must be so proud watching you grow into the incredible young woman you’ve become.”

I smile through my tears.

This is the best holiday of my life. In a way, I got a way to feel closer to Mom. And just like that, Paris became my favorite city in the world.

???

As soon as we reach our hotel, I fetch my phone and the card from my blazer and get under the covers. My heart is beating wildly.

After listening to Dad’s beautiful memory and the significance of this place, I couldn’t help but picture my very own love story starting here.

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