The delicious aroma of the freshly baked croissants wafted through the near-empty café. I knew I should leave but I didn’t want to be alone in my flat. I’d been away for months and I missed him. My time in Paris was perfect – with one exception. Being without him. ‘I’ll be home soon,’ I told him when we spoke that afternoon. But I wanted soon to be now.
With a sigh of loneliness, I thanked the girl who supported my latte habit and stepped outside into the evening. I tried to convince myself I could make it through one last week. Seven more days. God I miss him. Another sigh, this time with tears. I watched my feet step over the cobblestones until I clumsily bumped into someone. ‘Je suis désolé,’ I mumbled as I looked up from my feet.
And he grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me like he was making up for every moment we had been apart.