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My time in Paris allowed me to become the woman and person I wanted to be. I made art, I made friendships, and I made love—lots of it. I found myself in Paris. And now I was leaving for good.
I did not know how to feel about leaving the girls behind. They were the foundation upon which I had built myself, and I had fallen back on them for support more times than I could count. They were closer than family, and now I had to leave them. I hadn’t told them my real reason for returning, but I figured they already knew.
There was an undertone when we spoke these days: unspoken words of loss and a melancholic vibe. There was nothing I could do about that, unfortunately. There comes a time in a woman’s life when she has to make a decision, leaving everyone else to live their own lives. Still, I felt guilt occasionally.
I walked out to the bedroom balcony. The sun had set, and the bright New York lights illuminated the night sky like paint on canvas. The view from Michael’s Upper East Side apartment building definitely beat the one from the hotel. We had moved out here when it became clear that my stay was not going to be a short one. It was also closer to Michael’s business interests and Thale’s home.
The last two weeks have been confusing for me, in a sense. On some days, it felt like we were the most compatible couple in the world. We spoke and laughed easily, and the sex was amazing. On other days, there was an imaginary wall that towered between us. On such days, we felt worse than strangers. I hated such days.
Michael tried to be home as much as he could, pushing most of his work off to his assistants. Even on the bad days, when our relationship seemed strained, he tried to always stay close by and see it out.
My biggest frustration was a lack of knowledge of where the relationship was heading. I knew the biggest reason for the uncertainty was my adamant refusal to tell my family what was going on. In Michael’s opinion, he did not see us as capable of going anywhere serious if my family did not know about my pregnancy.
It did not help that Enzo was his best friend, and he felt he was betraying his trust the longer we kept the pregnancy from him. He tried hard not to bring it up or speak about it, but I could tell it weighed heavy on his mind. There were moments when he had a vacant look, and I could tell that was the only thing going through his mind.
He sprung at the idea of me moving in with him suddenly. He had returned from Thale’s and Ivanna’s very excited.
“Why don’t you move in here?” he asked after a long pause. “I mean, I know you’ve been practically living with me for weeks. You still have your main life back in Paris; however, I want you to move in with me. Full time.”
I did not know how to respond to the request, so I stared at him silently. He went about his work without forcing the matter or making a fuss over my silence. I watched him as he worked and wondered what I was so afraid of. He seemed so sturdy. So reliable. So strong.
“I would love to do that,” I replied, breaking the silence. “I’m ready when you are.”
Michael looked up from his laptop, and I could see the gratitude in his eyes. He nodded silently and returned to work. It was going to be infinitely difficult to avoid Lorenzo if I lived here in New York, but it had worked out well so far.
As the night grew chilly, I stepped back into the bedroom and headed downstairs to look for Michael. He entered the living room as I descended the stairs. Walking toward him, I exclaimed, “I didn’t know you had stepped out.”
“Had to take care of an emergency,” he replied, setting down the box and grabbing me close. “I wasn’t gone long. Miss me?”
“You wish,” I said with a chuckle. “I was just hungry.”
We settled down to eat, turning the TV on for company. I had gotten used to living easily. Michael insisted on doing everything for me, even the most basic tasks. All I did now was make sketches, eat, and catch up on all my favorite shows. It wasn’t the worst way in the world to live.
“I spoke to my pilot today,” Michael said through a mouthful of pasta. He swallowed before he continued, “Skies look good; we can leave for Paris first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah? That’s amazing.” I did not know how to feel about what Michael said.
“You’re ready?” he asked. “Were you able to finish packing?”
I shrugged. “I decided not to pack anything. I figured I was returning to my house, anyway. I have everything I need there already.”
He nodded, taking another bite from his pizza. “Do you need anything else? I’m heading up to bed now. I’m pretty exhausted.”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m fine. I’ll just watch some TV for a little longer.”
“Don’t stay up too late?” he said as he stood up.
“You’re not the boss of me,” I replied haughtily, turning up the volume.
Michael laughed loudly, making me smile as well. He leaned forward and kissed softly on my forehead. “Good night, Alessia.”
“Sleep well,” I replied as he walked tiredly up the stairs. I thought about returning home again. I was excited about him meeting my friends. Unfortunately, the life we shared was ending. Even if we stayed in touch, it was never going to be the same, and slowly, I would become the one distant friend they spoke about in the past tense. I drifted off to sleep, hoping the price I would pay for being with Michael was not too steep.
The flight down to Paris was as easy as Michael’s pilot had promised. Endless blue sky stretched out all around us as the jet was spirited across the Pacific. The flight was a whole hour shorter than my initial flight, and once again, I was reminded of the endless benefits of being stinking rich.
Michael planned for a cab as we waited in the private jet lounge. I took the time to call my friends and inform them I was back in town. The cab ride back to my apartment was a silent affair, with Michael’s eyes watching the street the entire time.
“I’m sure my entire apartment is a mess,” I said as we walked up the stairs.
