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At the end of the day, though, I am taking her somewhere special, and I want to tell I love her.
I hope it won’t be a surprise, I hope my actions have spoken the sentiment repeatedly. In case they haven’t, though, I want to make the first time I utter those words to a woman to be something both of us will never forget.
November 29, 2014
My morning stretch on Saturday is delicious. I start with my toes and work all the way up to my neck.
Yesterday was the most glorious day. Cara and Louis’ news was so exciting and unexpected. There was something so special about being with Simon when they told us. Our eyes met during a moment of unadulterated happiness and we seemed to reach an understanding, making me feel weightless.
We drank champagne with them and stayed at their apartment until well after midnight, talking and laughing.
Cara seems at home with Louis and in Paris. This move has been great for her. Her position with the Paris ballet has given her an international spotlight. She is at the height of her career. Dancing the best ballet of her life and at the same time she has found the love of her life.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence.
I roll to my side and watch Simon sleeping. His beautiful, perfectly bowed lips are parted as he snores softly.
I stare at him.
He was in such a romantic mood last night. I think he was caught up in the moment of Cara and Louis’ news.
When we got home, he stripped me slowly. When we had sex, it was tender and slow, and while the passion between us always flares hot, he took his time. It felt like making love.
He murmured words in my ear that were building monuments of hope in my heart. I am so head over heels in love with this man. I can hardly stand it.
I want to tell him, but I also feel like I need to tell him about my father. I don’t want any lies between us.
I can’t bring myself to tell him though. A groan, involuntarily, escapes me as I contemplate my self-created dilemma.
Simon’s lushly lashed eyes flutter open and meet mine in a remarkably clear gaze. “Good morning, Adelaide,” he mumbles sleepily.
“Nobody calls me Adelaide unless I’m in trouble.” I scoff at him, but lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips.
I glance at the clock, it’s almost 9:30am and breakfast should be delivered any minute. This hotel is incredible. It is by far the most unique and luxurious place I have ever stayed.
We have a butler assigned to the room, but he is almost invisible. He appears immediately when we dial his number and then like a ghost, he’s gone.
Yesterday, when we got back I dialed his number to ask about breakfast. He showed up at our door in his full uniform less than a minute later with the breakfast menu, took our order, including the time we wanted it delivered, and he was gone.
And just as I am having these thoughts, our room’s phone rings. I pick it up and it’s our butler asking whether breakfast can be brought in. I say yes, and the door to our suite opens and we hear a cheerful, “Bonjour mes bon gens.”
I scramble under the covers and pull them up to my chin. A troupe of people walk in with their eyes averted and bright smiles in place.
A rolling tray is brought to each side of our bed and Simon I and sit there as our breakfast is laid out on the trays in front of us.
Scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, a basket of croissants, brioches, pain au chocolat, and other freshly baked breads steam up at us from their artfully designed plates.
Fruit salad, yoghurt, and granola round out this smorgasbord of mouthwatering delights.
A beautiful china cup, the same green and gold as the decor in our suite, is placed in front of me and the beautiful aroma of espresso assails my senses as it’s poured from a silver percolator.
I glance at Simon and we grin at each other like kids who have broken into a palace and are waiting for someone to realize we don’t belong. It’s all so decadent. They serve our breakfast and leave quickly.
We eat at a leisurely pace before we get out of bed and shower. The shower here is too small for us to even think about fucking in it, but when we’re done, Simon throws me up on the counter and eats me out until I come twice.
Soon, we are in a taxi headed to Saint Germain des Prés. It is the most quintessentially “Parisian” part of the city. It’s also my favorite place to visit. Loc
ated on Paris’ Left Bank, it’s home to the best shopping and food— my two favorite things in the world.
