Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

Your love,

Reed

How I wished to be loved by him. But maybe he wasn’t capable of loving the way he had when he’d penned the note. He’d hardened. As much as I wished he would see things the way I did, I just couldn’t force him to. His resistance had worn me down. Couple that with my numbness as of late, and I just had no energy to fight anything, least of all Reed Eastwood.

As I carefully packed the dress into a large, flat white box, I hoped that it would bring good luck to Lily Houle of Madison, Wisconsin. Lily would now be the recipient of its magic, which no longer seemed to be working for me.

I thought about how this dress had changed my life. It had brought me Reed, and even if he and I never had anything more than what had already taken place, he’d changed my life. He’d made me feel things I never had before, and he’d given me the closure I needed when it came to my roots.

Taking one last look at the fabric before I closed the box, I was ready to put the fairy tale to bed. Love wasn’t about a beautiful dress, a note, or even poignant words. It was about being with someone through thick and thin, about seeing them through not only the best moments of life but also the worst. It was about being there for someone like I would have been there for Reed if he’d let me. I thought of my birth mother. True love was also about forgiveness.

It made me sad that I felt like I was giving up on Reed, especially after the night we’d had in Houston. But if that amazing sex couldn’t finally bring us together, what could? I missed his body, the way he felt inside of me, so much. The need kept me up at night lately. We’d become one physically, yet emotionally he was still so guarded, still so far away. How many times could I stand to get rejected by one man? I’d rather be alone than alongside an unattainable Reed, playing this cat-and-mouse game that never ended. I didn’t want to quit working at Eastwood, but I was probably going to have to. I had some big decisions to make, and I was hoping the overseas trip would bring clarity.First day in Paris consisted of bread and cheese, followed by bread and more cheese.

Sitting in front of La Fromagerie, I wondered if I’d accomplish anything more than gaining an extra five pounds while on this trip. I wasn’t going to find my solutions in a baguette, that was for sure. Yet eating alone seemed to be what I wanted to do. And this trip was just as much about doing nothing as it was about finding something meaningful.

I was surrounded by smoking Parisians sipping their coffees and speaking in a language that I really couldn’t understand despite my best efforts in trying to learn. Staying in my own world, I enjoyed the cheese-and-fruit platter I ordered.

I’d decided I was going to visit as many cafés as I possibly could before I had to board the train to Italy.

As alone as I was here, I didn’t feel lonely, mainly because of all the other people around me enjoying solitude. Take, for example, the artist sitting in the corner, sketching something. I was in good company in being alone. And that was comforting.

The sight of the Eiffel Tower in the distance served as a spectacular reminder to look up from my plate once in a while and to not forget the splendor of where I was. Instead of a hotel, I’d opted to stay in an Airbnb in the Quartier Saint-Germain-des-Prés, a small but charming neighborhood not far from the tower. Tomorrow, I would take a break from my culinary tour to visit Notre Dame and the Louvre.

My eyes wandered to a man who looked like he could be Reed from the back—dark hair, dressed in a suit, broad stature. My heart felt like it skipped a beat at the thought of how incredible it would be to have him here with me.

The man was sitting alone, reading a newspaper. Suddenly, it hit me that you could travel across the Atlantic, seek out all the distractions in the world to suppress the pain in your heart . . . but one little reminder was all it took to unravel everything. A few moments later, the man was joined by a woman and two rosy-faced children. He stood up from his chair and bent down to embrace the two little cherubs. Still observing him from the back, the man was basically Reed to me. And the sight I was witnessing was Reed and his children—a life he might have had if it weren’t for his fears. A life I might have had if it weren’t for his fears.

Tags: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net