An Unexpected Engagement

Chapter 48

— Can we eat macarons? “I ask when we get into the cab the next afternoon for the first stop of the day.

Unfortunately, the morning tour of Versailles had been canceled by my husband, who had convinced me that slutty sex was better than any excursion to an ancient palace.

And after two wonderful orgasms I couldn't disagree with him.

- Are you still hungry? — We had eaten in the hotel restaurant and I think I gained ten pounds, but how could I pass up the macaron?

“Please, Steve, can we stop by Ladurée on the Champs Élysées...”

“All right, I think I can have your way, Ms. Rogers. He kisses my hand and takes out his cell phone.

I sigh disgruntled.

"Can't you put that cell phone down for a minute?"

— It's the first time I'm picking up my cell phone today.

“You shouldn't take it at any time. We are in honeymoon!

- But you can? He was taking pictures of the food the whole time to post on his Instagram.

- Is different! Are you working!

“For your government, I'm not working. I'm answering a message from Henry.

"Why didn't he come to our wedding?"

"I told you he had some issues to resolve..."

— With Sophia?

- Also.

— So tell me, I want to know everything about them... When are we going to meet?

- Stop being curious. Look, we're here.

He deflects the subject, and I'm no longer interested in his friend and girlfriend either, because my mouth is watering as we get out of the car and enter Ladurée.

— Wow, it's macaron heaven!

“Hurry up and choose what you want, we have to go to the Tower.

"Don't be boring, it's hard to choose!" — I look at the window full of cookies of all colors, like a rainbow.

- Take one of each.

- I can? My eyes widen with emotion like a child.

"As long as I can eat it all."

'Of course I can!'

Steve makes the request and I must say I'm very attracted to him when he speaks French.

'You're so irresistible speaking French!'

He smiles, circling my waist and pulling me close.

"More irresistible than macarons?"

"It's a tough race!" I kiss him and we head off to pay, after the saleslady hands me the box full of macarons.

I'm already eating before we even go out on the street.

— Do you want to go? – Steve suggests.

- It's not far? I ask with my mouth full.

— It's not that far and you can eat.

- He is well!

We continue along the Champs Élysées, turn into an adjacent street, and I continue to eat the macarons as if I've never seen candy in my life.

“Natasha, you don't have to eat everything right now. Steve looks at me with amusement.

'But it's so delicious!'

By the time we get to the Tower, I've eaten all the macarons and I'm seriously sick. But I don't tell Steve that, because he's going to criticize me.

So I swallow the urge to throw up and smile as we face the line and enter the elevator.

"Aren't you going to take pictures?" Steve nudges me and I smile trying not to fall over with the sudden dizziness.

'I don't need to take pictures of everything like a silly tourist!'

“You're a silly tourist!

— Okay, if you insist. - I take my cell phone.

The elevator door opens on the first floor.

'Can we go down here?' — And before Steve answers I go with the flow and jump.

“I thought you'd want to go upstairs first.

“Let's go later. — I start taking pictures of everything, while my stomach is getting more and more in knots.

We approach the wall and there it is already quite high. I feel dizzy.

— Let me take some pictures of you. Steve takes my phone and I smile, ignoring the nausea.

I can do this. I'm not going to ask you to leave and ruin our ride again. So I do my best instagrammable pose...

And without being able to predict or avoid it, I feel a strong urge and bile rising in my throat and in the next second I'm expelling a disgusting wave of rainbow vomit from my mouth, like those memes.

— Holy shit, Natasha! — I can barely see Steve approaching, I just feel the urge taking over me again and this time I run to the wall and see what's left of the macarons being carried away by the wind, while I vomit in one of the most beautiful landscapes of Paris.