Dancing with Paris (A Paris Time Travel Romance)

by Juliette Sobanet

  “Titine!” I rushed over to her, but she flung me off and continued on her rampage.

  “This is all your fault, Ruby. If you wouldn’t have sent Robert to me, nothing would’ve happened to him. You should’ve just spent the night with him. You should’ve just fucked him like you fuck everyone else! And now I have his baby. I have his baby, Ruby. What am I going to do? What am I supposed to do without him?”

  Titine crashed into my arms, a heap of despair in the aftermath of loss. I stroked her head as I brought her down to the floor with me. “Shhh. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re going to get through this.”

  But just as the words came out of my mouth, Titine’s head slumped farther into my chest, her arms going limp at her sides.

  “Titine? Titine, wake up. Wake up!”

  But her body stayed as limp as a rag doll.

  I hoisted her up and onto the couch, and when I pulled my hand out from under her legs, I noticed a dot of red, silky liquid gleaming on my finger. I peered back over to where Titine had just been lying, and there, on the ground, was a small red puddle.

  I quickly rolled Titine onto her side and gasped as my worst fears were confirmed.

  It was blood. It was Titine’s blood.

  And if I didn’t act fast, she was going to lose her baby.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  After what felt like hours, the strange, piercing sound of French sirens blasted underneath Titine’s apartment window. Knowing the paramedics were here didn’t calm the panic surging through me, though. I wouldn’t feel calm again until I knew for certain that my young grandmother was going to be okay, and that the baby inside of her—my mother—would survive this ordeal.

  Because if there was no more Titine and no more baby, that meant I would lose my mother, my grandmother, and ultimately, my entire future as Claudia.

  And I refused to let that happen.

  I swung the door open before the paramedics had a chance to knock then led them over to Titine, who was lying on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness. The emergency workers carefully lifted her onto a stretcher, the bloodstained towel I’d placed beneath her spilling to the floor—a reminder of what could be lost if they didn’t get her to the hospital fast enough.

  I rode beside Titine in the ambulance, squeezing her limp hand in my shaky palm as the paramedics worked swiftly around me, taking her vital signs, hooking her up to an IV, doing their best to stop the bleeding. They fired questions at me about what had happened, and while I barely heard myself or noticed I was speaking French, I still managed to tell them about Titine’s pregnancy. The murder. Titine’s hysteria. And finally, her blood on the floor.

  Once they’d heard the whole story, they continued to work on stabilizing her. I remained quiet as I focused on Titine’s pale skin, which had turned a sickening shade of gray, the freckles that dotted her nose, and the long locks of red hair that sprawled out from underneath her head and cascaded along the edge of the stretcher.

  I pressed her hand to my forehead, willing her to hang on. Willing her to keep this baby, and to stay strong.

  And in that moment, with my young grandmother’s clammy palm pressed to my head, I felt her pulse speed up and beat in time with mine. I didn’t notice the ambulance racing down the bumpy Parisian boulevards any longer, nor did I hear the siren wailing just overhead.

  Instead, I heard my grandmother saying Ruby’s name back at the dance studio the night I’d passed out in Édouard’s arms. Somehow, she’d known that I’d been Ruby in my past life. That we’d been best friends.

  And here, in the ambulance, as her heart continued to beat with mine, I felt as if our souls were merging, as if there was suddenly no separation between our two beings, between time and space and past lives and future lives.

  In this silence, I knew I could speak to her. I could communicate with her. And although there was no rational explanation, I knew she would hear me.

  I lowered Titine’s hand to my chest and placed it over my heart. With my eyes closed, I told her that she needed to stay strong. I told her that she needed to keep this baby because someday, she would have a granddaughter named Claudia, and that we would be the best of friends. I told her that our bond would withstand the test of time, and that if she could just hang on a little bit longer, everything would be okay.

  It had to be.

  The ambulance came to an abrupt stop, and while the fast-working paramedics wheeled Titine away from me, I hoped that my presence here hadn’t somehow messed with fate or changed the way things were originally meant to happen. What if my actions here had actually led to this moment? What if they had led me to losing my grandmother, my mother, and my future all in one blow?

  The old woman had told me that I’d already begun to change things from the way they’d originally played out. What if this was my fault?

  I shook my head and snapped myself back to reality. There wasn’t any time for speculation. Titine and her baby would be okay. They had to be.

  Not wanting Titine to be alone, I plowed through the double doors, hoping to follow along wherever they were taking her, but a woman clad in a crisp white polyester dress and a pointy nurse’s hat stopped me.

  “You cannot go in with them, Mademoiselle. You will have to stay here in the waiting room until they stabilize your friend.”

  Her French words whistled through my head, automatically translating into English, but only some of them stuck as I glanced around the pale-blue walls of the waiting room, the smell of stale hospital air, medications, and plastic pitchers of water so familiar to me I could hardly keep my balance.

  I’d been here before.

  If this had happened to Titine the first time around in this life, then of course I’d been here before.

  But as I turned back to the nurse, I knew I’d been here for another purpose.

  Antoine.

  I needed to know which hospital this was. “Excusez-moi, dans quel hôpital sommes-nous?”

  “L’hôpital Hôtel-Dieu,” she answered, completely unaware of what those words meant to me.

  “Merci,” I called over my shoulder before slamming through the doors marked For Patients and Staff Only. No visitors allowed.

  “Mademoiselle!” she shrieked after me. But I was already down the hallway, winding through the hospital from muscle memory, heading to the one man who I knew could save Titine and her baby.

  “Ruby, what are you doing here? Are you okay?” Antoine stared at me with wide eyes as he rustled some papers around on his desk then shoved them into the top drawer.

  “It’s Titine. She’s here—and her baby. You have to help, Antoine.” I knew I wasn’t making any sense, but after sprinting across the entire hospital and up three flights of stairs, my lungs starving for anything resembling fresh air, I didn’t care. I needed Antoine to come with me.

  Antoine met me on the other side of his desk and placed his warm hands on my trembling shoulders. “Ruby, what is going on? What happened to Titine?”

  “I don’t have time to explain, but something horrible has happened, and you are the only one who can save Titine and her baby. I need you to come with me now.”

  Antoine grabbed my hand and led me out of his office.

  As we raced to the emergency room, I gave him as much information as I could about Titine’s pregnancy, the murder, and the bleeding that had started after she’d found out about Robert’s death. Antoine didn’t miss a beat. He located Titine’s room in the ER, then turned and kissed me on the forehead.

  “I will take care of Titine for you. You don’t need to worry.” He squeezed my hands then pushed through the double doors, leaving me alone in the hallway, with nothing but spots of memories flashing through my dazed mind and a cold draft on my palms where his hands had been.

  As I steadied myself against the wall, I remembered standing outside this room once before, feeling just as terrified and alone as I had back then. I tried to picture the outcome—Antoine walking out of the
hospital room telling me that Titine and the baby were both healthy, that everything was going to be fine. But I couldn’t see the future. Whether bad or good, I couldn’t see it. I could only grasp those vivid moments of déjà-vu as they passed through me like a hot summer rain pouring down so hard I couldn’t ignore them, then coming to an abrupt halt before I could see what would happen next.

  I slid down to the cold tiles of the hospital floor, a wintry draft whipping through the hallway, leaving a chill on the back of my neck where I’d been sweating. I thought back over everything that had happened since I’d arrived in this life a couple of days ago, and Madame Bouchard’s mention of fate popped into my rattled mind.

  I’d never believed in fate before. In my practical existence as a therapist, I’d counseled people on rational ways to improve their relationships, their careers, and their lives. I hadn’t saved any room for fate or what it might hold for us. I’d believed that if you made good, solid decisions and nurtured your relationships with clear communication, compassion, and hard work, you would see positive results. Things like trusting in fate and following your gut instincts were not things to pay attention to, let alone to live by.

  But ever since I’d been zapped back to the past, all I’d had to go on were my instincts and the overwhelming gut reactions I couldn’t have ignored if I’d tried. There was no reason to the madness of this situation, no practicality. Nothing here made sense.

  Yet when I thought of the bond I had with my grandmother in my life as Claudia and the close friendship I shared with her here as Ruby, somehow it did make sense. And when I thought of how amazing I felt with Antoine—as if I’d known him forever, as if our souls were meant to be together—I realized that I did believe in fate.

  I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t explain it. I just suddenly believed.

  And if fate was guiding this course, I could only hope that it would be kind enough to replay itself one more time and save my grandmother’s life.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  An hour later, Antoine emerged from the double doors of the emergency room and spotted me curled in a ball on the scuffed tile floor.

  I stood and grabbed on to his arm as the blood drained from my head. I refused to give in to the urge to throw up, to pass out, or to collapse into a heap on the ground. Titine was going to be okay. She had to be.

  “How is she?” I asked. “And the baby?”

  “We’ve stabilized Titine for the moment, we managed to stop the bleeding, and the baby still has a steady heartbeat. We will have to run several more tests and monitor both Titine and the baby over the next few days to rule out any serious conditions, but it looks as if her body went into shock after hearing the news. A reaction this strong can put severe stress on the baby and can cause major complications. We will do everything we can to make sure they are okay, but unfortunately, I cannot give you any guarantees at this point.”

  “You mean there’s a chance she might not make it? And the baby too?” I asked as tears rimmed my eyelids.

  Antoine blinked a few times, but his gaze never faltered. “I will do everything I can to make sure that both of them get through this, Ruby. I know it will be difficult for you, but please try not to worry. They are in good hands.”

  I felt myself collapsing into Antoine’s arms, his strong embrace more comforting than I ever could’ve asked for.

  “Thank you so much, Antoine. Thank you.”

  He lifted my chin and wiped the lone tear that had streaked down my cheek. “It was smart of you to come to me. The doctor on staff in the ER doesn’t have as much experience in this domain as I do. How did you know where to find me?”

  “Oh…I asked one of the nurses and followed my instincts the rest of the way.”

  Antoine arched an eyebrow, his smoldering gray eyes piercing through me just as they had the night before. He ran a finger down my cheekbone then tucked a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve never met anyone like you before, Ruby. And I know I never will again.”

  Despite the grim circumstances for me being here, I still felt my lips relax and even smile as Antoine leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.

  “Can I see her?” I asked as he kissed me once more on the cheek and then at the corner of my mouth.

  “Yes. She is still very tired, but I’m sure she would like your company.”

  “Thank you again, Antoine. You saved her. Thank you so much.”

  He squeezed my arm and ushered me into the pale-white room, where my young grandmother lay in a metal hospital bed, tubes poking out of her arms, a steady beeping noise emanating from a rickety machine next to the bed.

  “I’ll be right out here whenever you’re finished, okay?” Antoine squeezed my hand one last time and left me alone with Titine.

  I walked up to her bedside, placed my purse on the ground, and took a seat next to her. The sight of her sunken eyes and her pale skin frightened me, making me fear the worst.

  But she was alive. She was still here, breathing, and her baby had a heartbeat. My mom had a heartbeat.

  I clasped Titine’s hand and watched as her tiny chest rose and fell, her breath blowing lightly out of her mouth, her eyelids fluttering open and closed.

  Amid the distinct sense that I’d been here before, that I’d held Titine’s hand just like this in these exact circumstances, Madame Bouchard’s voice came flooding back to me.

  Certain events are supposed to happen, no matter how negative they may seem to you, but there is one event that you are here to change. And that is your ultimate purpose for coming back.

  If you follow your instincts, you will know the time and the place. You will know what actions to take. Don’t let your intellect get in the way. Trust your gut, and you will succeed.

  Once again, I felt Titine’s pulse beating in time with mine, our hearts, our bodies, our souls completely in sync with one another.

  And it was then that I knew with absolute certainty, this wasn’t the event I was here to correct. And Robert’s death, no matter how untimely, no matter how horrible, no matter what it meant for my grandmother’s, my mother’s, and my own future, was not the event.

  Because as I ran through the decisions I’d made the night before, I was certain that at the time, I had done the right thing. I’d straightened out the misunderstanding that Jean-Pierre had created, and I’d sent Robert off to explain things to Titine. To the woman he loved.

  I’d followed my gut instincts. And at the time, there’d been no way to know what was going to happen to Robert. As much as I didn’t want to accept his death, and as easy as it could’ve been to blame it on myself and think that I’d already failed to accomplish what I’d been sent here to do, I knew that it wasn’t my fault. That wasn’t my event.

  Madame Bouchard’s words continued to resound in my consciousness, their meaning finally taking hold. For the first time since I’d woken up as Ruby, I felt certain that my presence here in this life was vital. And while I hadn’t a clue what awaited me, I knew I hadn’t yet accomplished what I’d been sent back to do.

  “Ruby.” Titine’s scratchy whisper cut through my thoughts as she gave my hand a light squeeze.

  “Titine, you’re awake.” I smiled down at her, feeling immensely grateful that she was here. She was going to be okay. I knew she would be okay.

  “The baby?” she asked, the fear in her eyes palpable.

  “The baby is okay, Titine. And you’re going to be okay too. They just have to run some tests to make sure that there’s nothing more serious going on, but Antoine thinks it was just your body going into shock.”

  The pained expression from earlier returned to her face with a vengeance. She must’ve momentarily forgotten what had happened—that Robert was gone.

  I leaned forward and hugged her before she had a chance to say anything. “I’m sorry, Titine. I’m so sorry.”

  She rested her head on my shoulder and gripped my arms with her shaky, frail fingers. “What am I going to do?” she whispered. “I
can’t raise this baby by myself, Ruby. I can’t.”

  I pulled away from her and rested my hands on her shoulders. “You can, Titine. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

  “No, Ruby. You’re wrong. I’ll make a horrible mother. I’ve never even wanted children. I’m a dancer. I like to drink and stay out late. I want to stay in Paris and live in my studio apartment and not have to worry about taking care of someone else all by myself…” She paused, her green eyes void of their characteristic sparkle, her flame momentarily doused. “I’ll have the baby, and I’ll give it to my parents to raise back in the States. God knows they were never proud of anything I’ve done, so maybe this will give them someone else to be proud of for once.”

  I stared at Titine, speechless, my words caught in my throat. So this is what had happened. Titine had given the baby to her parents. My mother had been raised by them in the United States, not by my grandma Martine. No wonder my mother and my grandma had never had a good relationship. And no wonder my mom had always lacked the warmth of other mothers, and had so easily abandoned me after my father was killed.

  Her own mother had abandoned her.

  And I couldn’t let it happen again.

  “Titine, you have to listen to me. You have to keep the baby and raise her yourself. I know under these circumstances that that seems unfathomable. It seems like your entire world is crumbling. But I’m here for you, and I’ll help you. You can’t give her away, Titine. You have to promise me you won’t give her away.”

  Titine’s green eyes flickered just the tiniest bit. “Ruby?”

  “Yes?”

  “How do you know it’s a girl?”

  I smiled at her, feeling a warm tear bubble up under my eyelid. “I just know. You can trust me on this one. And she’ll need her mom. You will be the most important person in her life. You can’t abandon her.”

  “But how will I afford a baby? I barely make enough money at the club to get by on my own, let alone support a child. Plus, we work nights. Who will watch the baby while we’re at the club?”