“That sounds like the best idea,” I say with relief. Serious discussions can wait; Paris cannot.
Ben navigates the city with such ease it makes me wonder how many times he’s visited. When I ask, he answers with a vague, “A few times.” He also warns me about pickpockets and is careful to keep me close. My favorite part of the day is renting bikes and riding them on the gravel paths in front of the Eiffel Tower. From our room, it’s a massive structure but up close it’s downright intimidating.
“Do you want to go up,” Ben asks with an encouraging smile.
I lift my head and gulp. “Nope. I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll be back,” I tell him confidently.
For most of the day, what Ben said about our relationship not having a deadline has replayed in my thoughts. I’ve realized he’s right. Ben and I love each other so we’ll have to make this work because even after six months, I don’t think I’m ready to give him up for a very long time.
I love spending the day with him, meandering through a city I used to dream of visiting. When we leave the Eiffel Tower, Ben and I weave in and out of shops, boulangeries and patisseries. But, he spends quite a bit of time in a store specializing in antique jewelry. I love looking at all of the pieces, wondering about the former owners, but after catching a glimpse of at a few price tags, I’m ready to leave.
Just my stomach starts to rumble, Ben finishes his transaction and turns to me. “I heard that,” he teases. “Are you ready to go back to the hotel and have some dinner?”
After convincing him to take a taxi, we arrive back at Avenue Gabriel and our luxurious accommodations. I want to ask him about paying for our suite; the question is on the tip of my tongue when he grabs me by the waist and surprises me with a hard, searing kiss.
I grab hold of him, steadying myself and my trembling knees. His tongue is hot and demanding and I open for him. He swallows my breath and any doubt I have about our relationship.
We break apart after what feels like a lifetime, both of us breathless. “I have something for you.” His voice is raspy but soft. He turns to pick up the bag from the jewelry store and hands it to me.
I take it from him, but don’t open it. He’s given me so much already; I don’t need anything but him.
“Open it,” he encourages, placing a hand under the bag, thrusting it forward slightly.
I walk over to one of the plush, velvet couches and sit down. Ben occupies the spot next to me and places one arm along the back of the sofa. I reach inside the bag and pull out a fairly large box. A part of me breathes a sigh of relief it’s not a ring box.
The lid creaks slightly as I lift it. My mouth pops open when I get my first glimpse of the watch inside. The face is small and rectangular and flanked on either side by a row of diamonds; the band is a thick golden rope. Ben plucks it from the box and holds it between his fingers. It looks so small and delicate.
“Do you want to see if it fits?” My hand shakes as I hold it out toward him. He unclasps the band and slips the cool metal around my wrist. It’s a perfect fit.
“Oh Ben,” I breath out. “This is so beautiful.”
He twines our hands together and tugs. I fall against him but his arms are there to hold me tight.
“You’re the most important person in my life, Milly. I wanted to give you something to represent our time together and to remind you the love we share isn’t going to end.”
His fingers graze my chin and I lift my face slightly. He kisses me softly, letting his hand brush through my hair and then trail lightly down my back.
“This is forever, Milly,” Ben whispers against my lips.
He’s absolutely right. What we have is definitely forever.
Wanderlust Wedding
Ben
“Honey, I’m home,” I shout in my fakest American accent the moment I enter the flat.
Milly looks up from the kitchen table, perfectly bathed in the warm sunlight streaming in from the windows.You’re really turning on the charm, London, I think to myself. My gorgeous girl smiles as she scrambles from her seat before she launches herself at me, throwing her arms and legs around me. She assaults me with delicious kisses and for once, I’m the one stunned. What’s gotten into my American beauty?
“You’re in a mood,” I tell her once she’s given me time to breathe.
“You’re back early,” she says breathlessly. “And pretty soon, these moments will be gone. I want to make every one count.”
I set her down gently and try to hide my frown because Milly’s time in London is almost over. She’s already extended her visa once; if she wants to come back to London, she has to go back to America.
