Page 4 of The Paris Chapter

I spotted a crepe stand and knew if anything might help me feel a bit better, it was that.

‘Bonjour.’ I greeted the seller and made my order in English because I hadn’t spoken any French since school. As I watched him make my crepe with speed and skill, the smell made mystomach rumble. He handed it to me in a wrapping and I carried on walking beside the river, moaning as the first taste hit.

As I ate and strolled, I thought about how this trip had started in the worst possible way. I blamed Joe. How could he have just invited his friend here when I was the one who’d booked and paid for the apartment? Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Selfish was Joe’s middle name. I sighed. I hated how he had made me feel so cynical about men and love. I never used to be. I had been hopeful before him.

Joe and I had met in June. It had been the start of summer in London and I had decided to write outside. I was in Hyde Park on a blanket with my notebook and a Marks & Spencer lunch when the guy on the blanket a few feet away cleared his throat.

‘I’m sorry but I’m dying to know what you’re writing in that notebook. I can offer a Mr Whippy in exchange for telling me?’ he called over, nodding at the ice cream van nearby.

‘I suppose if you add a flake…’

‘It wouldn’t be an ice cream without it.’ And he bought me an ice cream, came to sit with me on my blanket, and after I told him I was writing a romance novel, Joe had declared, ‘It won’t be as good as the way we just met.’ I had been putty in his hands. He was everything I had always fancied – tall, dark and handsome with smouldering eyes. He was an accountant and we’d joked how he was logical and I was creative, and that opposites attracted. We’d only been together six weeks when my landlord decided he wanted to sell the flat I was renting so Joe asked me to move into his. It was a whirlwind romance, and I fell hard.

Then at Christmas, I discovered he was, and had been the entire time we were together, cheating on me.

I felt like a fool still. I had been swept up in thinking I’d found my soulmate. But Joe hadn’t felt the same. When I found out, I’d walked out of his flat and his life. And I’d been trying toput it behind me, but it wasn’t easy. All I could think was thank God I had only been with him for six months, not six years, and found out what he was really like before we’d got married or something.

I hadn’t heard from Joe since we had broken up. I had no idea if he ever thought about me or not. I didn’t miss him. I missed what I thought we had. And most of all, I missed who I had been before we met.

But now he was invading this break that was supposed to help heal my heart after he had stomped on it. He was here in the shape of Ethan. It was so annoying.

I passed by a couple who sat by the edge of the river, talking softly, leaning against one another, and I looked away. I had always been inspired by moments like that but now, they made me feel stupid for thinking I’d found love.

I wondered if love was even real. Because when someone betrays you like that, how can you trust or believe in love again? And unfortunately for me, it wasn’t only casting a shadow over my personal life. I was fine being single for a good long while now. But it was my career that I was worried about. I had dreamed of being an author since I was a little girl, a complete bookworm since birth pretty much, and now it was in jeopardy. Because of Joe. I was scared I’d never be able to write about people falling in love again.

And if I lost my writing career, it felt like I would lose myself as well.

My phone vibrated in my bag. I checked and saw I had a WhatsApp message from Carly.

Bonjour! Are in you in Paris safe and sound? Send me a video of the apartment when you can. I’m dying to see it!

I knew she’d have kittens when I told her about Ethan being there.

Yep, I’ll call you soon and fill you in on everything.

I needed to decide what I was going to do before talking to her. This time, I wasn’t going to let Carly or Luke persuade me to do something that would turn into more of a nightmare than it already was.

Then I noticed the light was dimming around me. It was approaching sunset. I looked up and let out a little gasp. Pretty pastel shades swirled in the sky above the Seine. Despite the chill in the air, the sight warmed me along with my crepe, and I thought that perhaps Paris would be able to inspire me.

But that was only if I was able to stay.

I finished my crepe and put the wrapper in the bin. It was getting too cold to carry on walking, so reluctantly I turned towards the apartment. I was about to find out if Ethan had found somewhere else to stay, otherwise one of us would have to leave. And I really didn’t want it to be me.

The apartment came into view as the sun disappeared behind the building. The light was fading, promising a clear night, and I remembered that I really wanted to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle at night. I couldn’t wait to see it. And the balcony would offer a great view. So, despite not wanting to talk to Ethan again, I headed inside and up to the second floor.

When I opened the apartment door, I was hit by a delicious smell. I walked in to find Ethan in the kitchen, cooking.

He looked up. ‘You’re back.’

I hovered awkwardly. ‘Yeah, it was too cold to stay outside. And I’d love to see the Eiffel Tower lit up from the balcony.’

He nodded as he stirred something on the hob. ‘We will havea great view. I know you don’t like fancy food but I felt so bad about you coming here and finding me…’ He looked at me again. ‘I’m making French onion soup. Would you like some?’

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure about trusting anyone connected to Joe but this looked like a peace offering. And smelled like a good one. ‘I just had a crepe but I’m in Paris; there are no rules.’ I took off my jacket and boots and dropped my bag on the sofa then I went to sit on the small dining table by the kitchen as Ethan carried over the food.

‘Wine?’

‘After today? Hell, yes.’

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