After going back and forth about it while we ate, we decide to go for our first siting. Unfortunately, we get lost a few times along the way, so by the time we reach our destination, the sun is setting.
“I could’ve sworn we were on the right train,” Max says as we walk down the sidewalk. We pass several pedestrians, some of whom are couples, holding hands, and smiling at one another. I purposely keep my eyes away from them, focusing on my surroundings, the paved roads and flats.
We stop in front of a shop, and Max tells me to wait. Less than a minute later an older man is walking out of the shop behind Max with the handles of a bike in his hands. The bike is a robin egg blue, the handles silver, and a brown basket on the front of the bike with a bouquet of pink peonies placed neatly inside it.
I gasp at the sight of it.
“Well?” Max asks as the man hands the bike over to him. “What do you think?”
It’s one of the vintage bikes I’ve always wanted. Granted, I can’t really ride the damn thing right now, but wow. It’s so stunning I want to cry.
“It’s beautiful, Max.” I run my fingers over the leather of the seat.
“I hate that today was a waste of a day,” he sighs. “Otherwise I’d take you on a ride.”
“No.” I smile at him. “Today was nice. I saw more than I thought I would.”
Max nods, pushing my brand-new bike through a garden, his fingers wrapped around the handles.
“I just thought about something,” he says.
I stop walking. “What’s that?”
“How in the hell are we gonna get this bike back to the U.S.? International flights are a bitch. I can only imagine the shipping.”
I laugh out loud, grabbing one of the silver handles of the bike with one hand and running my fingers across the shiny blue paint with the other. “That’s what you’re worried about?” My shoulders lift carelessly. “I won’t really be able to use it once we’re back anyway. John wouldn’t even let me touch this thing if he saw it.”
“John, John, John.” Max looks me dead in the eyes, a glint in his. “Have you realized just how many times you’ve mentioned him since we’ve landed? I’m starting to think you’d rather him be here than me.”
“That is not true!”
He doesn’t look assured at all.
“I mean…” I huff. “Do I miss him? Of course, I do. But this trip is a gift from you. You promised it to me and I’m so thankful for it.”
“Aw. That’s so touching.” He grins and the sun makes his teeth sparkle, the wind blowing his cologne past my nose.
I start to grip the bike handles with both hands, but a sudden wave of nausea hits me and I grip the strap of my backpack, staggering a bit.
Max’s face turns hard, his brows immediately stitching together. “You okay? Need to sit?”
My head bobs, and to avoid any conflict or cause a scene, I walk to the nearest empty bench with Max. Once seated, I absorb as much of my surroundings as I can, waiting for the nausea to fade.
“I can’t believe I’m actually in Paris,” I breathe. It’s always best to change the subject.
Max gives me an odd look as he parks the bike next to the bench. “I honestly didn’t think you’d come.” He sits next to me, watching people walk by too. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way.”
“What?” I give him my undivided attention and when his face changes and he’s no longer got his easy-going smile in place, I frown, placing my hand on his arm. “Max, what is it?”
“This trip wasn’t exactly all-planned for you.” He lifts his head, looking me in the eyes.
“Oh.” I nod. “I get it. It’s not supposed to be me sitting here with you. It’s supposed to be some other girl, right?”
He frowns. “What? No, Shannon.” He busts out laughing. “No. This trip was supposed to be for me only. No one else.”
“I don’t get it…”
“This was a one-way trip but I pushed it ahead and booked another seat so you would be able to join me. I was going to live here, start fresh once you…well, you know.” He pauses, and I swallow the brick in my throat. “I thought for a while it wasn’t going to be possible to bring you with your disease and everything. I figured why not move somewhere where I’ll never be able to forget you…you know?”
“Oh.” My lips press together and I lower my gaze. “Wow.”
“Not that I would have forgotten you at home either,” he states, immediately backing himself up. “It’s just that I still can’t believe it sometimes.” His voice is much lighter, not as deep as usual. “I just can’t believe that it’s you I’m going to lose. Out of everyone in my life, I hate that it’s you and I know you don’t want to hear that, but I can’t keep those words to myself anymore. It’s not fair.”