PARISIAN HEARTS

Chapter 4

Adrien sat at the corner table of a private dining room, his gaze distant as he stirred the wine in his glass. The soft murmur of conversation filled the room, but he barely heard it. His mind was still on Isabelle, the artist by the Seine. There was something about her—something raw, unfiltered—that had drawn him in, despite his better judgment.

Across the table, Sophie was talking to someone, her perfectly manicured hands waving as she told a story he wasn’t paying attention to. Adrien had learned long ago to tune her out when she started speaking about her social circle, but tonight, it felt even more difficult to stay present.

“Adrien,” Sophie’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Are you listening?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, trying to mask his disinterest.

“I was saying,” Sophie continued with a forced smile, “that the gala next week will be a perfect opportunity for us to make our engagement official. My parents are eager to set a date, and the press will be all over it.”

Adrien’s grip tightened around the glass. He knew this conversation was coming, had been avoiding it for months. The engagement had always been more about appearances than love—an alliance between two powerful families, designed to keep everything neat and controlled.

But the thought of it now, after meeting Isabelle, felt suffocating.

“I’m not ready to make it official yet,” he said, his voice colder than he intended.

Sophie’s smile faltered. “Not ready? Adrien, we’ve been together for years. What’s there to wait for?”

“I need more time,” he replied, setting his glass down. “It’s not about us—it’s about business, and the timing isn’t right.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed, a flash of anger breaking through her composed exterior. “This isn’t just about business, and you know it. You’ve been distant for months, and now you’re talking about ‘timing’? What’s really going on, Adrien?”

Adrien opened his mouth to respond but stopped. How could he explain the growing emptiness he felt, the sense that his life was slipping further and further away from him? Sophie wouldn’t understand. She thrived in their world, embraced it in a way he never could. And now, after meeting Isabelle, it was becoming harder to ignore the widening gap between them.

“I’ll make a decision when I’m ready,” he said firmly, ending the conversation.

Sophie didn’t push further, but the tension between them was palpable. She turned back to her guest, her smile quickly reappearing, but Adrien knew this was far from over.

As the night wore on, Adrien’s thoughts drifted back to the river, to the moment he’d seen Isabelle standing there, lost in her art. She represented everything he’d been missing—passion, authenticity, freedom. Things that no amount of wealth or power could buy.

He stood abruptly, ignoring Sophie’s questioning glance as he excused himself from the table. The air outside was cool, and Adrien breathed in deeply, feeling the weight of expectation ease from his shoulders. He needed to clear his head.

Without realizing where he was going, Adrien found himself walking back toward the Seine, the place where their paths had first crossed. He stopped at the river’s edge, staring out at the water, wondering if Isabelle was somewhere nearby, painting in the quiet of the night.

And for the first time in years, Adrien felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—hope.