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I make it to the hotel in record speed. I've booked the Four Seasons, because once again, it's my last three months, so I might as well enjoy it. The ride flew by, there was so much to see, and I feel less sick and more invigorated. There's an energy to this city that I've never felt before.

The hotel is also the prettiest I've seen, and my jaw drops when I walk into the lobby. I find myself wondering about the way humans as a whole think. We save and save for a retirement that we'll only get to if we're extraordinarily lucky. How much life do we miss by playing it safe for a future that we're not promised?

I laugh at myself. I've never been one for introspection, but I guess dying has changed that.

I walk into my room and immediately get to work getting ready.

I pull out the long red dress. It's far too fancy for just touring a city, but this moment feels like the most important moment of my life. My mother used to refer to her clothing for the day as her armor. And standing here, staring at myself in my red dress as I carefully apply my red lipstick, I finally understand that. I'm preparing myself for a battle, because if anyone's ever truly been in love, then they know that that's what it is—a battle to the finish.

It's time now. And I float through the lobby, garnering stares as I glide to my taxi. I'm in a haze, not really seeing anything as we make our way to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower. The sun's starting to set, just like I imagined it, and the tower lights blink on almost the second I step out of the car. It's like magic, except I'm looking around and I don't see them.

I walk numbly to the spot that I'd looked up and written about exactly in the letter. I stand there in my red dress, the wind stirring my hair, and I try to be brave and not cry. It's as if every emotion I've ever felt has decided to run rampant through my body at the same time. My hands are trembling at my side.

I turn and look up at the tower, wondering how I’m going to get past this moment of utter disappointment. Because it honestly feels worse than dying.

And then I feel a hand at my waist, and I turn, and Logan's standing there. And he lowers his mouth to mine and gives me everything I've never known I needed, and then some.

In this moment, I realize that our love story never really ended like I thought, because I love him, maybe more than I did even before.

And I've missed him.

And his kiss feels a little like hope and a lot like redemption.

I kiss him, and we're spinning into oblivion.

And I don't even remember to worry about what happens next.

Logan

I'm running late.There was a storm that delayed takeoff by an hour, and I'm actually considering punching the cab driver if he doesn't start to go faster. I don't have any way to contact Valentina here if I miss my window.

All I have is her return address on that envelope, and what am I going to do with that, sit on her doorstep and wait for her to return from the European vacation she talked about?

Yep, that sounds like something I would consider doing, actually.

I rub my chest for what seems like the thousandth time since I received her fucking letter. I forgot what feeling something…anything actually felt like, but this anxious ache in my chest is a harsh reminder of every other feeling I’ve lived without for so long.

The cab finally gets us to the Eiffel Tower, and suddenly, I'm frozen in my seat, not sure that I can get out. A few minutes tick by, and the driver mutters something in French that sounds a lot like "asshole." I square my shoulders and step out of the car on that note.

The Tower is lit up in front of me like some kind of fucking movie, the one in those rom-coms that Valentina always wanted me to watch when we were growing up.

I walk, looking for her, wondering if she looks the same. Ten years is a long time.

Will she recognize me? Would I recognize her?

It's crowded, I'm sure this part of the city never really goes to sleep.

Suddenly, I see her. She's standing there in a red dress, like she's going to some kind of fancy fucking ball.

She's facing away from me, and I allow myself one small moment to take this in. This moment where I see the love of my life once again.

I've been so fucking furious at her for years. I thought I hated her.

But this feeling I have right now, it feels a lot less like hate, and a lot more like love.

Or maybe obsession really.

Love just doesn't seem strong enough.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com