The woman spoke rapidly in French, gesturing to the display case. Jack responded in kind, his accent sounding surprisingly authentic to my untrained ear. After a brief exchange that I couldn’t follow, he guided me to a tiny table in the corner.
“I ordered for us,” he explained. “Trust me?”
“With pastries?” I grinned. “Absolutely.”
Moments later, Madame Rousseau brought over a basket of still-warm croissants, two pain au chocolat, and two café crèmes in delicate porcelain cups. The first bite of buttery, flaky pastry nearly made me moan out loud.
“Oh my god,” I mumbled through a mouthful of croissant. “This is... I can’t even... Jack, seriously.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched me, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Worth the flight?”
“Worth every second,” I confirmed, taking another bite and closing my eyes to savor it. When I opened them again, I found Jack still watching me, the intensity in his expression sending heat pooling low in my belly.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious. “Do I have crumbs on my face?”
“No.” His voice was lower, rougher. “I just like watching you enjoy things.”
The double meaning wasn’t lost on me, and I felt my cheeks flush. To distract myself, I reached for my coffee, taking a careful sip of the rich, creamy brew.
“So what’s the plan for today?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded steadier than it felt.
“We’ll walk back through the Tuileries Gardens first. Then we can walk along the Seine for a bit, which will get us to Notre Dame. After that, lunch, and the Louvre in the afternoon.”
“Sounds perfect.” I finished the last of my croissant, already mourning its loss. “I’m ready when you are.”
We wandered back down the street and into the gardens, hand in hand. We’d stopped at a particularly pretty fountain when Jack’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen.
“Sorry, I need to take this.”
“Of course.”
He half turned away from me as he raised the phone to his ear. “Hey.”
Within seconds, his whole demeanor changed as his shoulders bunched up and he ran his hand through his hair, taking a few steps away from me.
“What do the doctors say?”
The gentleness in his voice was so different from anything I’d heard from him that my curiosity flared. Eavesdropping wouldbe super rude, though, so I moved away to give him privacy. Still, fragments of his conversation floated to me.
“...can change the prescription if it’s not working...”
“...of course I don’t mind...”
“...should have told me sooner...”
“…I can come to you…”
He was quiet for a few moments, clearly listening intently. Then, “Why on earth are you worried about me at a time like this?”
More silence from Jack before he said, “How about we shelve that for now and focus on finding out what’s going on with you?”
Someone he loved was sick, that much was obvious. The fact that I knew so little about his personal life suddenly felt more significant than it had before.
After a few moments, his voice warmed again. “I love you too. I’ll call tomorrow to check in.” He ended the call and stood motionless for a moment, staring at nothing, his hand still gripping the phone too tightly.
I gave him a moment before moving to his side and slipping my hand in his. “Jack? Everything okay?” I asked cautiously.
I waited, giving him space to elaborate if he wanted to. When he didn’t, I squeezed his hand gently. “You know, if you need to head back to the hotel to make more calls or... anything, I completely understand.”
