A New Year In Paris

"Yes, Mom. I'll be there, won't miss a thing this time. I promise," I said, forcing a smile as I talked to Mom on the phone. Though she couldn't see me, I missed them terribly. It had been years since I left my home in the Philippines and moved to Paris, France.

A sigh resonated from the other end, "You better not lie, Athena. You know what your Dad is capable of if you're not here before New Year, right?" I chuckled softly, familiar with Dad's tough exterior concealing a soft interior. It was his way of showing he missed me.

"I will, Mom. I will. I'll call you later if you don't want me to miss my flight," I assured her while using my right hand to close the gate of my house. "Okay, honey. Just call us when you board. I love you," she said, and I replied with a smile before she hung up.

My parents were my top choice for spending New Year's with. Their understanding and support had paved the way for everything I had achieved, including becoming the Queen of All Media. Who was I to turn them down?

Taking a break from ATHENA Worldwide Media for two weeks wouldn't hurt, and I trusted my devoted employees. Reflecting on my teenage years, I found joy in writing for the School Publication. It was my passion, and sharing the truth with the world became my commitment.

Now, on the streets of Paris, I hailed a cab. Nostalgia filled me as I thought about my parents. I missed the girl I used to be—the dreamer, the fragile and young soul. I decided to stop being the girl who had it all. Just hours ago, I was someone different.

A cab stopped in front of me, and I instructed the driver to head to the airport. Oh, how I missed the Philippines, my country. I missed my family, my hometown, and the version of myself without these hectic schedules. I missed the girl who argued with her sister, worked hard on assignments, and met him.

Him? Sigh.

That's where it all started. I was eighteen, just a normal girl focusing on writing, seizing opportunities, and trying to move past heartbreak. Even at 25, thoughts of that boy who stole my heart still linger when I miss my old self.

"Miss, we're here," the cab driver interrupted my thoughts. Glancing at the airport, I smiled, bid him farewell, and wished him a Happy New Year.

Time check: 10:54 PM.

Panic set in. I was late! Running like I could beat Flash's record, I didn't care about bumping into someone. I stopped abruptly, and there it was – my supposed-to-be plane. I was late.

A tear escaped, followed by others.

"Athena?"

A familiar voice called my name. Maybe I was imagining him calling me. Why think of him now when I should be crafting an excuse for my parents?

A warm tap on my shoulder, I turned to see someone vying for my attention. Then, I saw him. The feelings flooded back, the stomach zoo – not butterflies, but a whole zoo.

"Athena? Are you okay?"

"I, uhm, I'm okay," I lied. He's here – Jacob Thompson, the guy who broke my heart multiple times.

He smiled, looking at me. He's still handsome – the chocolate eyes, pointed nose, long eyelashes, well-formed face and body, curly hair now waxed, perfect eyebrows. He was my definition of "perfect."

"It's good to see you, Athena. You made our country proud. Congrats!"

I'm glued to his eyes, but he avoids mine. "Ah, anyway, I should go. I have to catch the next flight," I grabbed my baggage and faced him. "Nice meeting you again," I smiled and headed to the boarding area.

"Athena!"

I stopped but didn't face him. It felt surreal, just like the first time we met. He was younger, a year apart, but it felt like we lived in different worlds. We were so different.

As I did eight years ago, I waved without facing him and walked away, without explaining.

I waited for the 12-hour flight, staying in a room offered by the airline. Then, a knock.

He's here.

"Um, I was going to be on that plane too. The airline said this is the only room available, so I told them we knew each other. Can I?" he pleads.

I don't have the heart to turn him away. We both want to visit our families for New Year's. I opened the door, gesturing for him to come in.

"I'll just go to the balcony," I left him there. It's uncomfortable; we weren't like this before. We were never together; it just happened that we loved each other. Thirty minutes before midnight, before New Year.

"Sad, huh? We couldn't celebrate with them," he says, joining me on the balcony. Silence ensues until, "Why did you leave?" We face each other; his voice cracks.

I give a sad smile.

Looking at the stars, "You used to be my unreachable star. We were always different, always hurting each other, but we never gave up until I did. Jake, I tried, tried to make things work between us. Everyone pulled us in different directions, and I fought for us. But it wasn't enough. Cupid was wrong; it wasn't the right time," I face him, closing the gap, "I'm sorry," I cried.

His fingers brush my cheek, "No, thank you, Athena. You were right; it wasn't the right time. I'm so proud of what you accomplished. Just like what you always dreamed. You were at your best when you're writing, beautiful. You still have comets in your eyes. But, Athena..."

"–Is Cupid right this time?" His chocolate eyes plead.

I genuinely smile while crying...

"Yes."

As the balcony fills with fireworks, he pulls me into a kiss.