Isabelle replayed the scene in her head countless times after Adrien left the café. She had sensed a shift in the air between them—a tension that felt almost palpable. But there were too many unknowns, too many unanswered questions.
For days, she buried herself in her work. The gallery showcase was approaching, and her paintings were coming together, but there was an emptiness she couldn’t ignore. As much as she wanted to push the thought of Adrien aside, her mind kept wandering back to that moment in the café. He had seemed so distant when he walked away, yet the look in his eyes said more than his words ever could.
One afternoon, as she was walking back from the art supply store, Isabelle’s phone buzzed in her pocket. For a brief second, her heart skipped. But it wasn’t him. Of course, it couldn’t be, she reminded herself. He didn’t have her number. She hadn't called him, and there was no way for him to reach her—unless he got it from Marie.
That thought lingered in her mind longer than she expected. Why hadn’t he reached out? Had she read too much into their encounter? Or was he simply giving her the space she seemed to need?
Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and continued her walk. However, she didn’t get far before the honk of a car pulled her from her thoughts. Glancing up, she saw a sleek black car rolling up beside her. Her heart leapt when the window lowered to reveal Adrien’s familiar face.
“Isabelle,” he called out, his voice warm despite the surprise in his eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She approached the car, her heartbeat quickening. “I could say the same. What brings you to this part of town?”
Adrien glanced at the bustling street around them. “I had a meeting nearby. What about you?”
“Just picking up some supplies for the gallery showcase,” Isabelle said, lifting the bag in her hand.
“How’s that going? The paintings, I mean,” Adrien asked, his expression softening.
Isabelle hesitated, shrugging. “It’s... going. Could be better.”
Adrien looked at her for a long moment before speaking again. “Can I give you a ride? I’ve got some time before my next meeting.”
She paused, unsure if she should accept after their last encounter. But something in his tone told her this time would be different.
“Sure,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat.
YOU ARE READING
PARISIAN HEARTS
عاطفيةUnder the shimmering lights of Paris, Isabelle, a struggling artist, is drawn into a world she never imagined. When she meets Adrien, a powerful businessman with a guarded heart, their lives become intertwined in a dance of passion and longing. As t...
