Chapter Ten

Past

E very inch of my heart feels like it’s wrapped in a cozy, warm blanket of happiness. A constant grin is plastered on my face that just won’t go away as Dad and I stroll along the picturesque streets of Paris.

This is my first ever trip to Paris and I think I’m in love with this city.

Every mundane stuff feels interesting. I swear my steps have an extra bounce and for the first time, the shadow of the guards following us doesn’t bother me.

The world seems to sparkle a little brighter and I catch myself humming to a tune. This feeling is so addicting. Like I’ve cracked a code to this happiness thing. It feels like my favorite song is playing on repeat. Everything is glowing inside me, making everything feel like a scene out of a feel-good movie.

Is this place truly magical? Or maybe the magic lies in the small rectangle card that’s tucked in my blazer? The card given by the man I lost my heart to.

Pulling the blazer tightly around my midi dress, I loop my arm with Dad’s. He is wearing a tailored, slim fit blue designer dress shirt paired with cream-colored chinos.

“Dad, do you ever meet someone and just… feel like they’re a part of something you’ve been missing?”

His eyes were full of understanding. “Absolutely, sweetheart. Sometimes certain people come into our lives for a reason. They show us we can be… more. Whole.”

I couldn’t help but think of Damian again. Even thousands of miles apart, I can feel his presence. I caress the pocket where his card sits hidden.

“Is this about that man you were running after in the hotel lobby?”

I jerk a little and shake my head vehemently. “I told you I mistook him for my—”

“Professor. Right.” He gives me a sidelong glance.

“Derek said that man whisked you in the elevator.”

“Because he thought I was in danger! He saw the guards running after me and acted on impulse.”

“And you let him.”

“Because I was confused,” I murmur. Then narrow my eyes at him. “Are you implying I’m lying?”

He stops and faces me. Cupping my face, he plants a kiss on my forehead. “You’re very innocent, sweet pea.”

I frown up at him. “I’m not a kid, Dad.”

“I know, my love but as you navigate through life, it’s essential to be mindful of the company you want to keep and the situations you find yourself in.”

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 older than 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 me to 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.

My finger hovers over the screen, contemplating my next move. For someone as shy as I was, this was a leap into the unknown, a huge step toward a realm I had only ever dared to dream about. Every sleepless night, every fruitless attempt of finding him has led to this moment.

I shake my head. Why am I so nervous? I didn’t think twice before chasing him two days ago. I just have to type out a text and hit send. It’s not like he’ll jump out of the small screen of my phone and eat me alive. My cheeks heat when I find that possibility appealing.

Giggling, I cover myself with the sheet to hide my burning face. After spending several minutes giggling and kicking my feet on the plush bed foolishly, I gather myself.

Taking a deep breath, I pick up my phone again.

“It’s now or never.” I whisper to myself and begin typing with my slightly trembling fingers. Then press send.

Me: Hey there! This is River Gibson.

I briefly wonder whether I should add about our encounter in the hotel lobby for reference. There’s a possibility he’d forgotten about me. The unpleasant thought clenches my heart. But I shake it away. He’s a busy man. It’s okay if he forgot about me. I can remind him.

Me: Remember me? Your new friend. We met at the Four Seasons Hotel two days ago.

As seconds tick by, doubts and insecurities begin to claw at the edges of my mind, overshadowing the spark of hope that had ignited within me. My fingers clutch the phone as if physically holding my sanity.

It’s noon there. He might be in a meeting. That reminds me I still don’t know much about my mystery man apart from his name. I make a mental note of googling him later.

I gaze at the time on the phone screen. Ten minutes passed.

The anticipation is killing me. With each passing moment, the knot in my stomach coils tight. Did I sound too casual? Too eager?

Maybe he’s just busy.

I keep checking my phone, hoping to see his name pop up. It’s like time has slowed down.

I pace the room, staring at the phone on the bed while biting my thumbnail.

I wish I could distract myself but all I can think about is his response. It’s driving me crazy. I just hope he texts me soon. But what if he doesn’t? What if—

Ping!

My heart skips a beat as the screen of my phone illuminates. I lunge to pick up the phone and lose my footing.

Wincing, I heave myself up and over the bed. Swallowing hard, I tuck my curls and lift it. I open the message.

Damian: I remember.

My heart flutters as I read it. I don’t let the clipped response dampen my excitement. One can never understand the tone or feeling behind the text anyway. Maybe he is confused like I was and sent me the two-word text. Did his curt acknowledgement mask hidden feelings? Or he is hesitating to express more because of our age difference. Or is he simply being polite?

I flop down on the bed. My thoughts race, analyzing every possible interpretation.

I’m still thinking when my phone pings again.

I jackknife into sitting position and gasp when I find another message from him.

Damian: Are you enjoying your holidays?

I blink once. Then twice before letting out a loud squeal of excitement. Pushing to my feet on the bed, I begin dancing and singing, my curls flying.

The main door to my suite opens suddenly before Derek and Dad come barging in my room, making me gasp.

“Sweet pea?” His eyebrows are pulled together in concern.

“Dad! what are you doing here?” I squeak, swiping my curls back from my face and climbing off the bed.

“We heard some commotion and thought you might be hurt.” Dad says as he settles on the bed beside me. He signals Derek to leave before asking, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I laugh nervously. “Oh! I’m perfectly fine. Everything’s fine. My limbs were a bit sore from the outing so I was just… you know, stretching a little.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Stretching? On the bed? By dancing?”

I wring my fingers in my lap. “Yeah, I mean, I read somewhere that dancing is a great way to relieve stress and increase flexibility.”

He crosses his arms. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What about the giggling?”

I hesitate for a bit then remember I was indeed giggling. “I-I was just thinking of the rom com I read earlier.”

His eyes soften. “Well, as long as you’re okay and having fun. Just be careful not to hurt yourself, all right?”

It feels as though Dad isn’t just referring to my impromptu dance routine. But I’m so high on feelings that I don’t pay it much attention and simply nod. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

He smiles and stands. “No problem, sweet pea. Just remember. You can always talk to me if something’s bothering you or if you want to share something exciting.”

I walk him to the main door. “I know, Dad. Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“All right then, carry on with your… stretching.”

We both laugh.

“Will do, Dad. Will do.” I flash a big smile as I close the door and rush to grab my phone to text Damian back.