You're the One: a Contemporary Romance Novella Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème) by Alix Nichols Read Free Book Online Page B

asking if you love him.”
    “I
think love is overrated,” she said, a note of irritation in her voice.
    “Maybe,
but what’s underrated is that we don’t live forever to waste a lifetime on
someone we don’t love. Especially if our main reason to stay is that we’ve
already wasted a few years on that person.”
    Her
nostrils flared. “I will waste my life however and with whomever I chose.”
    He
threw his hands up in defeat. What a shame, he thought. What a big fat stinking
shame.
    “Suit
yourself,” he said. “I’ll be off, since my services are no longer required.
Have a good life, Natalie.”
    ***

FOURTEEN
    “Coffee or
tea?”
    Natalie
blinked as her consciousness slid from her ruminations into the airplane cabin.
    “Nothing,
thank you,” she said to the air hostess.
    “Coffee,
please,” Fred said.
    He placed his
beverage in the cup holder, turned to Natalie, and squeezed her hand. Since
their big talk and his proposal three days ago, he’d been the most attentive of
men. He’d taken her out to dinner and bought her flowers. Now he was taking her
on a weekend trip to Rome. For the first time in three years he’d made all the
travel arrangements himself—bought the tickets, booked the hotel,
researched the sites to visit. She should have been happy.
    Instead, she
was unsettled. She couldn’t shake the feeling something had happened during
that surreal week when she wore a wig and tailed him. Something significant.
Something that made her see everything in a different light. Was it the knowledge
that Fred had slept with another woman? Or was it something else? It was vital
she figure this out.
    Through her
haze, she heard Fred’s voice. “And after that we’ll visit the Aventine Hill.”
    She tried to
sound excited. “What’s special about it?”
    “The guidebook
I bought highly recommends it. Great gardens, great views. And a keyhole
through which you can see three countries: Italy, Vatican City, and Knights of
Malta that’s apparently the smallest sovereign state in the world.”
    “Wow,” she
said, her voice flat.
    He took her
hand in his again. “Natalie. You’re still shaken up and upset. I can feel it.
And I don’t blame you.”
    She couldn’t
look into his eyes.
    He patted her
hand. “Just give it time. Holy crap, if I were in your place, I’d be reeling
for weeks. Months maybe.”
    He was right,
she thought. She should just give it time.
    “Just remember
how great we are together.” He gave her a wink. “I’m the man of your life. Your
future husband and—who knows—maybe the father of your child.”
    He’s right, she told herself. They were great together. And he loved her.
He must love her, even if he’d never actually said the words. When she’d
declared her feelings during their first year, he’d looked away. When she’d
asked him if he loved her, his answer was I’m
dating you, aren’t I? When she asked again a year ago, he said, I moved in with you, remember? She
didn’t bother asking now. He had proposed, hadn’t he?
    The plane
jumped and shook violently.
    “Shit!” Fred
looked at his thighs covered in coffee.
    The air
hostess grabbed the mike. “All passengers are requested to return to their
seats and fasten their seatbelts.”
    “Buckle up,
folks,” the pilot said over the intercom. “A bit of turbulence ahead.”
    Turned out to
be a lot more than a bit. The plane was jostled up and down and left and right,
like a featherweight toy aircraft caught in a gust of wind. As cups, books and
bags started rolling down the aisle, Natalie closed her eyes and tried to
concentrate on her breathing. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Fred still held her hand,
his grip painfully tight.
    “It’s just a
bit of turbulence. We aren’t going to die,” she said.
    But what if
they did?
    She’d never
see Adrien again.
    She’d never
feel the sweet caress of his gaze, never have the chance to kiss him again, get
drunk on the taste of his tongue. She wondered what his skin would