Page 40 of Such a Sweet Girl

‘I want you in my next chapter.’

‘Then we’ll work together to make that happen. We can do a little distance, right?’

A beeping came from outside and my stomach dropped. His taxi had arrived.

‘Yeah. You promise you won’t go home and fall in love with some fancy English woman?’

‘There’s only one woman who’s going to plague my mind, Francesca. No one else has ever made me feel like you do. They never will. When you get over to Europe, I’ll be there right off the plane to meet you.’ His eyes searched mine as I fought back a wave of emotion. I didn’t want to look like some silly girl.

‘And what if I don’t make it? What if I just end up in my parent’s dentistry office?’

‘Then I’ll come find you. But it’s not going to happen. You’re going to be amazing. Keep working on your dream. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s not worthwhile.’

The horn beeped again, more insistently.

‘You have to go,’ I whispered before pulling him to me, kissing him long and slow. ‘I’m going to miss you so fucking much.’

‘We’ll be back together before you can blink, baby girl. I promise.’

TWENTY

ALEXANDER

Rain battered at my window, the sky a dismal dark grey. The sun lazed, slow to rise now that autumn had settled in.

I picked up my phone, Francesca’s pretty face filling the lock screen. Every morning, she was the first person I wanted to talk to, and the last before I slept. Unfortunately for me, the time difference meant it would be hours before she woke.

Pulling up her social media, I flicked through her recent pictures, losing myself in her. In the arch of her smile and the twist of her hair as the wind lifted it.

I threw myself into hazy memories of summer in her arms when I saw a picture of the lake on her page. Smiling, I touched the screen, missing her hard enough to hurt.

Switching to her baking profile, I indulged myself in her videos. Listening to her talking about her kneading and flour dusting, whisking and creaming. A smudge of flour on her face, the way her cheek dimples when she lets her passion take over.

God, I love her.

I wished I’d been brave enough to tell her when we were together at the lake. It felt too soon. She was too young. Lived too far away.

Still. It was true.

I loved her.

And I missed her.

It pained me every single day to go through the motions of my life without her. Work. Clean. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Well… Work. Clean. Eat. Pine. Sleep. Ache. Repeat.

So I laid in bed, wiling away the hours of my Saturday wrapped in digital moments of her, until she came online. The moment her name popped up on screen, her sweet face in a little bubble, I couldn’t temper my smile.

‘Hey pretty girl.’

TWENTY ONE

FRANCESCA

Adorable pastel covered houses lined the cobbled street, balconies teaming with burgeoning wisteria and ivy. While I’d never been to Paris before, it filled me with a warmth that very much felt like home. Like a piece of me had been waiting there for me to come and scoop it back into my soul.

The sun heated my face, a light breeze ruffling my skirt as I passed from the pretty street into another, this one busier. People gathered on wobbly tables outside of a cafe, coffees and pastries nestled beside phones and magazines.

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