Chasing Heartbreak (Dark Love 6)

***

We arrive just before the night fountain show, passing time by strolling the beautiful gardens during twilight. The ball itself doesn’t begin until eleven thirty and typically finishes just before dawn.

There’s a flurry of excitement from those attending, dressed impeccably in their costumes and congregating in groups to take several pictures to mark the occasion. Tourists also occupy the area, admiring the surroundings and taking out their phones to snap photographs of those willing to pose for them.

The sun begins to set, a canvas of beautiful colors adorning the sky. Rich hues of red blended with oranges, purples, and crimsons, all of which bring a sense of calm within me.

“The sky is stunning,” Charlie says, wistfully, her thoughts just like mine. “France is beautiful. I understand why you’ve chosen to stay here.”

“It’s beautiful,” I agree as we both still our movements. “I really can’t imagine living anywhere else right now.”

Charlie is distracted, glancing at her phone with a knowing grin. “Lex just sent me a very profane text on how uncomfortable it is wearing tights.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I muse, smiling at people as they walk past in their costumes. “How long until he arrives?”

“Soon. So, listen, there’s something—”

I interrupt Charlie, prompting her to follow the crowds moving toward the large fountains. “Hurry… let’s get a good spot. I don’t want to miss anything.”

Everyone else has the same idea, and with the night’s sky fallen upon us, the view is nothing short of spectacular. Unable to hide my smile, I gaze around me, perplexed that France always offers something new which simply takes my breath away.

The night fountain show features water and fire tricks set to music. We stand together, watching and clapping with the rest of the crowd. The sheer timing of it all is impeccable and one they have mastered without any fault.

“There you guys are.”

Lex’s voice breaks me from my daze. I turn to face him, dropping my eyes toward his feet as I look at his costume. His facial expression says it all, the uncomfortable feeling as he appears to squirm. The outfit he’s wearing is black with an emerald green frilly shirt beneath his jacket. The same as Charlie and me, he opted not to wear a wig but wore a mask to stay in theme.

“Nice tights,” I mention teasingly. Charlie warns me with her eyes to shut up until her expression changes, and a nervous smile graces her face. “Charlie, are you okay?”

“Um, so I was trying to tell you earlier that—”

The bang of the fireworks drowns out her words, exploding above us in vivid colors to ignite the otherwise black sky. People ooh and aah, raising their heads to watch the animated show while applauding. According to my online research, the fireworks appearing is the beginning of what’s guaranteed to be an unforgettable night.

I’m beyond ready for tonight, desperate to drink champagne, dance away, and forget anything exists besides the excellent company of my close friends. Oh, and a small amount of business I plan to attend to before the liquor deems me incoherent.

A gust of wind sweeps past us, bringing with it a familiar scent. Unwillingly, I freeze on the spot, twitching my nose, trying to pinpoint why this scent is consuming my thoughts and igniting all my senses. It’s almost as if it transports me to a time in my past. I have no clue where or when but only remember pleasant moments.

“Kate, are you listening?” Charlie questions.

“Sorry, it was loud. You were saying?”

“I’ve set you up on another date, but before you say—”

I raise my hand, prompting her to stop. “How many times do I have to tell you, Charlie? After your last disastrous attempt to set me up, what makes you think I would ever try again?”

“I’m slightly offended.” The voice chuckles behind me.

The voice, much like the scent, onsets a stream of memories. Memories I buried along with many other things. With a slow and steady turn, my body shifts to see who belongs to the voice.

My eyes are wide, fixated on the man standing before me. The mask covers a portion of his face, but beneath the black façade lays the eyes of a man I had once loved in more ways than one. The piercing hazel sea of speckles dances in delight as they stare back at me.

Noah Mason.

KATE

The memories are playing like an old-time movie reel.

Each scene brings on a wave of emotions, the same emotions which were buried since the moment I left the States and hopped on a plane to Paris. The familiarity and warmth rush through me like a tepid ocean wave, calming my nerves and comforting me, much to my surprise. But as Noah’s stare deepens, the momentary calm is replaced by a tight feeling in my chest and a blank expression I can’t seem to shift.