DEAR PARIS | ✓ (Short Story)

DEAR PARIS | 2

Little did I know, my first day in Paris was going to be the worst.

I was on a mission. On a mission to meet my "ex"-bestfriend and understand what went wrong. We just stop talking. I mean, she stopped talking to me all of a sudden. I don't know what went wrong and I needed explanation. Though she told me nothing had happened, I did not believe her. We promised we would not let anything break this friendship up and that we would try to keep in touch. Well, we used to talk every single day, even if it was just to say hello sometimes. We checked on each other.

She was alone in Paris, pursuing a Masters degree. Alone, away from home. She did have some friends, but she always seemed so homesick. We would often talk about how hard it was.

I wiped the little tear which managed to roll down my cheeks before entering the first coffee shop I saw. I bought a "mille-feuille" pastry and sat on the far corner of the coffee shop. Somewhere no one would see my face if the tears threatened again. 

Putting all hopes of bettering my mood in the "mille-feuille", I felt a shadow next to me.

"Your coffee," said the shadow warmingly placing the coffee in front of me.

I lifted my face to thank the waiter.

My eyes widened at my sight and a big excited "Ellie!" came out of his mouth. 

"Laurent?" I tried to mimic some kind of excitement in my tone and on my face. "What a coincidence!" There serving me coffee was my plane seat neighbour. The annoying person I started my morning with.

He grabbed the chair in front of me and sat down. "Is everything alright?" He asked, studying my face.

"Yeah." I faked a smile. But I could tell he was not buying it. But I was too down and tired to think of something. I just wanted to enjoy my pastry alone. In my sadness.

"I see," he mumbled. "I'm finishing my shift in five minutes. Do not move."

I squinted my eyes at him.

Winking at me, he mouthed, "stay."