Being alone sharpened everything. Sounds. Smells. My own thoughts. There was no one to buffer them. No one to hand things off to.
At night, I came home to my apartment and let the quiet hit me like a second wave. I unpacked slowly. Hung clothes. Reorganized drawers even though Frankie wasn’t there to comment on my knife placement.
I missed her in weird flashes. The kind that didn’t make sense. When I saw a dumb sign. When I needed a second opinion. When I realized no one was going to steal my socks anymore.
But missing her didn’t mean I wanted to go back.
That part surprised me.
By the end of the week, my legs ached, my memory cards were full, and my brain felt louder—but clearer. Like something had been stripped down to its bones.
Paris wasn’t asking me who I was.
It was watching to see what I’d do. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like I had to answer to anyone but myself.
I lifted my camera, focused, and clicked.
The first textcame while I was sitting on the edge of a fountain, camera resting against my thigh, watching a couple argue in whispers like it was foreplay.
Dominic:
So. Paris.
I stared at my phone like it had personally offended me.
Of course, he knew. Dominic always knew things before I was ready for him to. He had a talent for timing that felt less like coincidence and more like a threat.
I didn’t answer.
I tucked the phone back into my bag and lifted my camera, refocused. The woman’s jaw was tight now. The man’s smile had gone brittle. I snapped the shutter and felt that small, familiar thrill—the one that came from catching something honest.
My phone buzzed again.
I sighed. Loudly. Like that might scare him off.
Dominic:
How’s the light? Still making everyone look like they’re starring in a movie?
I smiled despite myself. Traitor.
Still, I didn’t reply.
I stood, slung my bag over my shoulder, and started walking. The city folded around me easily, like it was used to people changing their minds mid-thought.
The third buzz came as I crossed the street.
Dominic:
You look beautiful.
I stopped.
Actually stopped. Like an idiot.
I glanced around, instinctive and ridiculous, scanning faces, reflections, windows. Men on bikes. A woman smoking. A kid licking ice cream. No one looking at me. No one paying attention at all.
My phone chimed again.
