Page 37 of Midnight in Paris

TWO WEEKS AGO

It had felt odd asking Tom to leave for a bit, all things considered. But he’d nodded and allowed her to return to the Cler without making a fuss of it. Bit different from back in the day; he’d been childish in his neediness sometimes – annoyed or threatened when she’d wanted a bit of Sophie time. But she’d had to get away, just for a moment; needed to call Will and also spend time getting her head straight.

She’d wanted to ask Tom where he was going to go, but held her tongue. It wasn’t her business to know everything about him, not any more.

In their years together, they’d gotten over the initial reserve that comes at the start of a relationship when you don’t want to put the other person off by letting your guard down too early (I want a big family! I’d love to get married one day! I have a third nipple!) and they’d developed an openness with each other; had known each other inside out. Now she wasn’t so sure, so easy around him. It was hardly surprising after not seeing him for so many years.

She picked up her phone and answered a text message Libby had sent yesterday.

Libby

How’s it going?

Sophie

OK.

A green dot appeared by Libby’s name, accompanied by a moving ellipsis; her friend was online, typing.

Libby

OK? Is that all I get after 12 hours of wondering why you hadn’t replied? How is Paris? And, more importantly, HOW WAS THE MILLEFEUILLE!

Sophie

Glad to see that you have your priorities right!

Libby

Precisely. And pictures next time or it didn’t happen.

Sophie

Hard to find my appetite with… well, you know.

Libby

I know. But seriously girl you are in IN PARIS. It’s criminal not to at least come back a few pounds heavier.

Sophie

OK. I’ll get to it.

Libby

Love you, you know.

Sophie

I know.

Libby

Wish I was there.

Sophie

Because of me? Or the pastries?

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