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I still couldn’t get over how easily he spoke French. It was the only language I took in high school. I gave up after I fulfilled the requirement. But Vaughn—he sounded like a native. He didn’t hesitate. I wondered how many years it took him to speak fluently.
I wished it would come back to me more quickly. I was going to have to immerse myself if I was going to be able to function in the city.
The waitress seemed mesmerized. I tried to ignore her stares at my boyfriend.
“Don’t you love Paris mornings?” He smiled wolfishly.
There was an energy in the city that was entirely different from DC. I wanted to explore the museums. Walk along the Seine. Try all the pastries I saw in the patisserie windows. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was for culture. For a new type of freedom.
I had spent months studying law, teaching law, and practicing law. I wouldn’t exactly call it steeped with rich art, music, or prose. I had barely seen a movie. The only reason I went out was because of Vaughn. He was the highlight of my DC experience. The night he showed me the Jefferson Memorial had brought us closer. It was hard not to think about it and wonder if it was truly his favorite spot in DC.
I replayed parts of that night every now and then. How easy it was to be drawn to him. How beautiful the night was. How the lights bounced off the water. How his words tugged at something I needed.
“I thought with your appreciation for law it might be meaningful to you.”
I whipped around. “You did?”
“Aren’t you the girl who’s going to change the world around here?”
I closed my eyes. “I’m the girl who used to think that.”
“What happened to her?” The deepness in his voice held me.
“She’s trying to figure things out,” I admitted. “Trying to start over.”
He shoved his hands in the front of his pockets. “Then maybe you need a place here where you can think in silence.”
I smiled. “Maybe I do.”
It was those small conversations. Those glimpses of his intensity that made me crave more of his insight. More of his perspective.
“Em?” He brought me out of my fog.
I inhaled deeply. “Yes, yes of course I do. It’s weird it’s not a holiday weekend here. It should still feel like Thanksgiving, but of course that’s not a thing in France.”
Sometime before the sun rose I had finally fallen asleep. Vaughn let me sleep in this morning.
The couple at the table next to ours was huddled together while their dog rested at their feet. I didn’t know what they were saying, other than picking up the words for party and food. I needed to find a good app I could download and refresh my French.
“Did you finish the entire crossword?” I stared at him in disbelief.
“All but two.” He held up the folded paper.
“How did you do that?”
“Practice.” He smiled.
“I can’t even finish the ones in English.” I grinned at a man who left the café with a small poodle on a leash. It was white and fluffy with a studded collar. He held a paper bag and a coffee. The contradictions made me laugh. “Do you like dogs?” I blurted out.
“What?”
“Dogs? Do you like them?” I asked.
Vaughn shrugged. “I guess so. I can’t exactly have one in my line of work. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“But if you could, would you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess so.”
