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Chapter 20

"Tell me about Paris," I whisper, warmed by the feel of his body entangled with mine. I press my cheek to his chest, breathing in the scent of utter man. His hand combs through my hair softly in the dark as we lay, the owl outside the only audience to witness the confessions. "Tell me about this year."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"I think that would take a fair amount of time to explain."

"I don't mind if you don't... Tell me about why you decided to go."

He breathes in as I look up, resting my head against his arm to get a better look at him. He stares up at the ceiling and utters, "It was hard- this time. Before, I had lost everything. I didn't have family to turn to. My friends had either been long gone because of my absence due to work or they left after, realizing what I had become... I knew I had nothing then."

"But this time," he looks down at me, his voice full of passion, "this time- was different. I was aware of you. Aware of what I knew I could never have and it hurt. I found the letter and the money a week after I left your house. You stuffed it to the bottom."

I mirror his expression, smirking. "I didn't want you to find out while you were still nearby. I didn't want you to return it."

He shakes his head. "I still have no words to describe- how much that helped me. I hated taking it... but I knew-"

I settle my hand onto his chest, breathing in deeply. "You knew you had no choice."

His voice comes out as a low whisper. "Yes."

"What then?"

"Then, I contemplated. I could either use it as sparingly as I could to try and survive in New York. I could use it only for meals... I don't know. I saw a picture of Paris passing by a travel agency. I can't even tell you how long I stared at it. I contemplated the feat I'd go through to sustain myself in a foreign country- a place where I didn't know the language... and just decided it was my best chance. Vance Waters wouldn't have ruined me globally- at least I didn't think so."

"Had he?"

"Only extremely relevant places- hotels, certain businesses. I managed to rent out a small room from a local man- he didn't ask questions. As long as I paid rent and stayed to myself, I was welcome to live there. He had a filthy temper though- could hear him scream through the walls at his wife."

He shrugs, seeming to come back to the conversation. "It was better than here- at least I could live under a roof. Anyways, I started looking for work and since I had no proof of employment or residency neither the knowledge of French, I couldn't find anything."

"I heard you speak it though."

"Yes, well, that's because of the bank. I showed up, nervous out of my wits really. I could see they weren't impressed even after hearing that I studied at NYU so I begged him- told him I'd learn anything to have the job. I got the offer the next day."

"Wow," I whisper, running my fingers over the small amount of chest hair placed in the middle of his chest.

"Yeah, I was shocked and amazed... I dove into the French language- and honestly, it's only been a year so I'm still rusty- but I can hold a conversation pretty well which is progress."

"I can barely speak it. I can understand it well but when it comes to pronunciation, bleh- I'm screwed."

"It's difficult for sure but a beautiful language... How do you communicate with your employees there? You told me you have an office there?"

"Yeah, I only hire people that can speak both French and English. Same as in the other countries like Russia and Japan. I wish I could learn them but it's seeming to be hopeless." I chuckle as he hums, pressing his lips to my hair.

"Tell me about you... What have you been up to since I left? You said you're on a break? What does that mean?"

"I took some time off from designing. I still model but I- just wanted to take a year or two off to focus on other things."

"Such as?"

"I don't know, really. It's been six months already and I've done nothing new."

"You went to Paris?"

"Yes, but I didn't actually see Paris. I always seem to do that."

"You should come up with me- I'd be happy to take you around."

I smile, biting my lip happily. "I'd like that. A lot."

His hand is warm against my back now and I smile at the moment of déjà vu as he begins drawing mindless pictures along the tan canvas. "And Royce? Tell me about him."

"Royce is irrelevant."

"Obviously not if he felt the need to propose to you, Iris."

My eyes flicker up and I shake my head. "He felt the need to propose because he wanted a solid commitment from me- something I wouldn't give. I never lived with him, he never stayed over-"

"But you slept with him."

I look up, inhaling as he stares at me, his face non-judging yet unbearable to look at. "I was trying to forget."

"I know," he whispers, nodding. I gape slightly and force my next words out.

"Did you have anyone- you were attracted to- are attracted to- in Paris? I expect it, of course... A year is a long time to-"

"No. There's been no one."

I stare at him, shocked. "Not even for- sex?"

He pulls me in tighter, pressing his lips to my hair. "No one, Iris."

I close my eyes with regret, hating myself in this moment. "I-I-"

"You don't owe me any explanations, Iris. You tried to move on, as I wanted you to do. If you think I feel anger because you've been with someone else, you're wrong."

"... You're not mad?"

"Of course not."

"I wanted to forget you. I tried to so desperately... settling with a man I didn't love- a man I didn't even really care for."

"How long were you together?"

"I knew him for three months."

He grasps my cheek, leveling my face with his. "We all try to find comfort in this world- love- it's all we can really hope to acquire. The feeling comes so rarely... There's no shame in trying to seek it anywhere you can."

My hand is firm against his warm heart.

"I have it- with you."

"I have it with you," he whispers in reply.