By saying her name, it’s like he just conjured her up out of thin air. She swoops in beside us, beaming up at Walt.
“I’m so happy you were able to make it,” she says, no hint of surprise evident on her face.
I look to Walt, and he confirms my suspicions when he tilts his head in her direction and says, “Nadiya helped me pull off the surprise. I reached out to her once I knew you were having a show.”
I look to her, and she’s grinning proudly. “You didn’t say a thing!”
“Yes, well, I’m good at keeping secrets. Now if you’d like to stay, you can, but your pieces have all sold and the event is winding down. I happen to think it’s better if you don’t stay too much longer. Leave the people wanting more,” she says with a wink.
I nod, and she reaches out to squeeze my arm. “Congratulations. I knew you’d do well, but this is better than we anticipated. You should be really proud.”
I am proud. I barely feel like the night is real as Walt walks with me to gather my purse. We leave the gallery and spill out into the Paris night. The Seine glitters with reflected light from neighboring buildings. The Eiffel Tower stands not too far away, glowing golden, its spotlight swirling over the skyline. A car zooms past down the street as we step out onto the sidewalk, followed by the ting-ting of a man’s bicycle bell as he curves around a group of girls laughing as they walk in a tight cluster. I glance over at Walt to find he’s focused on me, not Paris.
“Should we go back to my hotel?” he asks with tempting eyes.
I swallow and then shift my chin in the direction of the river.
“Okay, but let’s walk. It’s early still, and I’ve never walked around Paris at night.”
He nods and holds his hand out for me. I let him lead me across the street onto the sidewalk that runs alongside the riverbank. We don’t talk at first, but the night is far from silent. An ambulance sounds in the distance, a marked reminder that we’re not in the States. There are bursts of chatter and errant pieces of French as we pass groups. Boats cross paths on the river, carrying passengers along for nighttime cruises.
I’m soaking it all in, appreciating every little detail, all the while keeping my attention on Walt. His large hand is steady and calm, gripping mine with ease. He walks slower than he would normally, I think, trying to ensure I don’t feel rushed.
I eventually ask him about his flight over and about the conference in California. He asks me about my week in Paris and what it was like preparing for my show. The conversation is so far from what I want to be discussing, it doesn’t even feel quite relevant. Who cares about flights and weeks we spent away from each other?
My nerves well up inside me as we walk. I seem to wobble more with every step. Walt tells me his hotel isn’t too far up ahead.
“Are you still okay with walking?” he asks.
It’s an odd feeling: I could walk forever, and yet at the same time, I have the ridiculous urge to run the last few yards. It’s the warring conflict inside me, the worry mingling with hope.
I’m not surprised to find his hotel is much nicer even than where I’ve been staying. Its lobby is filled with marble, the coffered ceilings dotted with heavy crystal chandeliers. Walt knows just where to take me, right to the elevators and up to the fifth floor.
His room is at the end of the hall. He swipes his keycard, and a set of double doors open up to a large suite with a full dining area, kitchenette, living room, and side bedroom tucked behind a closed door.
I could spend an hour looking over the room, studying the art and interior design. It’s wonderful, all of it done in neutral shades of cream and black, antique pieces blended with modern furniture. Then I turn to Walt to see him tug a hand through his hair, and I know we’ve put off the inevitable long enough.
“I don’t suppose I’ll ever be fully prepared for this conversation, so we might as well have it. I’ll treat it like I’m ripping off a Band-Aid.”
His brows scrunch together in confusion. “Do you think it will be so bad?”
My stomach twists into a knot. “Life has conditioned me to prepare for the worst, so that’s exactly what I’ve done this week. I squashed every instance of hope, trying so hard to keep my wits about me.”
His lips tip into a wonderfully handsome smile. “Don’t you think it’s time to put away sense? I’ve flown to Paris, Elizabeth. I came here to talk to you. Do you think I would have done that if I were bringing bad news?”