Sometimes Goodbye Is A Second Chance

It started out as just another Saturday in Paris.

Chloe had some errands to run while her daughter, Angeline, was at gymnastics practice with her friends. Angeline's birthday was on Sunday, and Chloe was going to pick up the cake she'd ordered for her, as well as some last-minute gift wrap, but, as always, some supervillain had arrived to wreak havoc on the city, and she'd been forced to stay home until was all over. Thankfully, the French miraculous team had taken care of the threat quickly, and two new heroes had appeared to help them; Blue Scales, and Otter Girl. They claimed to be visitors from New York, and they were the holders of the salmon and otter miraculouses, respectively. Chloe didn't know where those miraculouses came from; the only ones she knew of were the Chinese ones, and the Japanese ones, one of which was owned by her daughter. She supposed that there must be miraculouses somewhere in every country.

She stepped into the patisserie she'd ordered Angeline's cake from—It was miles away from the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie Patisserie, as she didn't want to risk running into anyone she used to know, and she doubted that Tom and Sabine would serve her, anyway. The list of terrible things she had done to them, and their daughter was long, after all. Locking them up when they had asked her to pay for the chouquettes she had bought was one thing, but the years of bullying their only daughter was what had really made them hate her. She doubted that they would ever forgive her, even though it had been twenty five years since they had seen her.

"Madamè?"

The man at the counter brought Chloe back to reality. "Ah, yeah. I'm here to pick up my order. It's under Chloe Bourgeois."

"The decorator's just putting the finishing touches on it now. It'll be five minutes," he responded, "Can you wait?"

"Yes, of course," She moved aside and pretended to look at what was in the display cases as other customers came and went, while she waited for Angeline's cake. A group of high schoolers came in, and each bought a different flavour of macaron. The patisserie had seven rainbow-coloured macaron flavours on display-Raspberry and white chocolate red, lemon yellow, cherry pink, blueberry blue, orange blossom orange, lavender purple, and pistachio green. Another woman came in to pick up a birthday cake for her son. A gaggle of American tourists, about five or six, came in, had a taste of a chocolate and cherry millefuille, and then complained that there wasn't enough chocolate in it. And then, when the next customer came in, Chloe's heart skipped a beat. It was Sabrina.

She shook her head. Maybe it wasn't. There were hundreds of redheaded women in Paris, but none matched the appearance of her former best friend more than the woman walking to the counter right now. Her hair was the same shade, even though it was longer now, and in a crisp ponytail. Her eyes were the same shade as Sabrina's too, even though the thick frame glasses she used to wear had been swapped out with dainty half-frame ones. She was crisp, cool, and professional, not the mousy lapdog Sabrina had been in middle school.

When the crisp, cool professional woman opened her mouth to place her order, Chloe couldn't deny that it was Sabrina any longer. She recognised her voice instantly.

"A fraisier cake, please, and a dozen blueberry macarons," Sabrina said, "Oh, and two strawberry mille feuilles. I promised my daughters that I'd get them some."

"That's quite a big order, Madamè. Is it for something special?" the man at the counter said as he used tongs to grab the macarons from the display case.

"The cake is for my father, and I'm bringing the macarons to a party tonight. I'm meeting up with some old friends from middle school," she responded, "Those friends are very important to me. I wouldn't be the person I am today without them."

"They sound like very good friends," he responded, "I'll be right back with a box for your fraisier."

"Thank you," she too pretended to look at the display cases while she waited for her order. She looked at Chloe, and then instantly looked away like she couldn't stand the sight of her. Chloe wondered if she knew who she was. It had been twenty five years since she had seen her, but something about Chloe's appearance must have given her away. She couldn't tell what it was, though. Maybe it was simply her face.