Always Have Paris

Epilogue

"Fade me away, I will never be the same"

Carry You // Novo Amor

***

"So . . ."

"So . . ." I playfully copy his questioning tone and he rolls his eyes.

"So, how was the coq au von?"

Finishing my last bite, I take a napkin to cover my mouth and I reach for my glass of water. After I take a sip to wash it down, I let out a satisfied breath.

"It was magnifique. I've had authentic coq au von before and I must say, I much prefer yours."

His proud and somewhat relieved smile makes me smile and I realize that my little fib was for the best.

It was good, but nothing compares to this dish being cooked by an authentic French chef. Aw, but look at that sparkle in his eyes. God, I love him.

"You're too kind," he humbly waves off my compliment like he always does. "So dessert. Would you like to have it now o-or wait a bit?"

"Depends on what it is," I slyly reply.

"Well, if tonight were just a regular night together, I'd say a box of chocolate biscuits on the couch while we watch a footy game, but since it's our three-year anniversary, I thought it should be special."

Because our anniversary fell on a Sunday night and we have work in the morning, we've decided to have a stay-at-home romantic and dressy dinner together.

And the reaction I got when he first saw me in my little black dress was worth it.

"Oh you did, did you?" I tease, playing with the hem of my dress. "Well, I'd say you aced this dinner and the ambiance of candles around our flat. Thank you for cooking and for the gorgeous bouquet of flowers, and happy three years together, Aaron."

"Happy three years, Abigail," he reaches across the small table and holds out his hand for mine. "Right, uhm . . . so, dessert?"

"Y-yeah, sure, but is everything okay? You seem, I dunno, jittery or something."

"What? No, I'm fine. Dessert!" he quickly says, standing from the table and taking our dishes with him. "I made it especially for tonight."

"You even made dessert?" I ask in awe. "You spoil me too much, babe. Not that I'm complaining," I joke and he looks over his shoulder at me with a smile. "Oo! Can we do gifts now? I kinda want to do gifts now. I can't wait any longer."

"Yeah, sure, no problem, darling," Aaron rakes his hand through his sandy blonde hair and walks back over to his seat. I happily clap and reach down beside me for the wrapped giftbox to hand to him. "Me first? Okay."

I watch with anticipation as he rips the blue striped paper practically to shreds and he opens the box. His reaction is exactly what I imagined, so putting away a little bit of my paycheck for a couple months was definitely worth it.

"It's the jersey I've been wanting," he holds up the autographed number five jersey. "Thank you, Abby. I love it."

"I figured you'll need something to wear to . . ." I trail off, piquing his interest. "There's more in the box. An envelope."

Aaron shakes his head with a smile, lifting the tissue paper and he opens the envelope.

"Christ! These are printed tickets for the World Cup Finals. Midfield? I don't believe it. Abby, these must've cost you a fortune."