by Paige Elwood
“Sophie!” she called.
Sophie turned, to see her holding a new envelope. This one was manila, but the sloping writing was the same, albeit in biro this time.
She shook her head. “I don’t want it, Helene. Just put it in the trash.” She hurried toward the elevator before Helene could object.
She wasn’t fast enough. Helene maneuvered around the desk quicker than Sophie had anticipated and pushed the envelope into Sophie’s hand before she’d even pushed the elevator button.
“You must take it,” she said. “Please.”
Sophie looked her in the eye, and this time she was absolutely certain that her instincts were right. “Why, Sabine?” she asked.
The other woman flinched at the sound of her real name, but it passed quickly, and her impenetrable expression settled back over her features like a mask. “Please, just take it.”
The elevator arrived with a loud chime, and the doors opened. Sophie swallowed hard, closed her fingers over the edge of the envelope pressed to her palm, and got into the elevator. Sabine, or Helene, or whoever she really had held her gaze as the elevator doors shut. Sophie thought she saw something like remorse in her eyes.
In her room, she perched on the edge of her bed, the envelope still in her hand, not quite daring to open it or to move. She tried not to dwell on it, and eventually, she tucked the envelope in her purse and ran a hot bath.
She luxuriated in the bath a while, sucking in deep, steamy breaths and trying to focus on just the present moment. The feel of the hot water on her skin, the humid air that she inhaled, the sound of the light dripping from the faucet that she hadn’t quite turned all the way off.
It took a while for her racing heart to calm down and her mind to stop rebelling, but eventually she managed to push all thoughts of Edouard from her mind, and just concentrate on the small, mundane task of getting ready for bed. She climbed under the covers, calmer now but not quite relaxed enough to sleep.
She checked the time on her phone. Claire would probably be awake, she thought, dialing her. She picked up on the first ring.
“Sophie? Is everything ok?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” she asked.
“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re supposed to be enjoying Paris and so far you’ve put nothing on Facebook and you call or text me almost every day.”
“Not everybody documents their whole lives on Facebook, and you’re my twin!”
“Umm. Yeah, but you do, I can’t remember the last time you went somewhere and didn’t tag yourself there. I was kind of expecting a crazy newsfeed full of Paris, and pictures of every croissant you ate, but it’s been quiet and I’m getting worried.” Claire’s voice held only a slight hint of teasing, and Sophie felt bad for worrying her.
“Have you considered that I’m just having such a great time that I’m too busy for that?” She tried to sound jovial.
“No. I considered that the Wi-Fi might be terrible, but I doubted it.” Claire quipped.
“The Wi-Fi’s fine.” Sophie sighed. “I’m just having an existential crisis,” she admitted.
“Sounds heavy. Why now?”
“The whole love thing. What if it’s possible, but you can’t have it anyway?”
“What are you talking about? Oh my gosh, Sophie! Have you found someone you really like in Paris?! More than a fling? You know, you could run the business remotely if that’s what you’re working up the courage to ask?” Claire said breathlessly.
“I haven’t met anyone,” she lied, “and I’m not working up to ask you anything! Aren’t twins supposed to be able to read each other like psychics? You’re not doing a great job!”
“Bite me,” Claire said. “I know you better than you think.”
“Maybe.” Sophie paused. “Claire…”
“Sophie…”
“Do you think that real, true love is possible?” She pressed the phone to her ear and twisted the corner of the covers with her other hand.
“I’ve been telling you it is for years.”
“But what if you found it and they were a liar? Or you just couldn’t be together?”
“A liar, as in a cheater?” Claire said. “That’s not love. You’re not seeing a married man, are you?”
“No, I am not!” Sophie exclaimed. “And I mean liar as in not telling you something you should know, but not cheating.”
“You’re talking in riddles here, Sophie, but seeing as you obviously don’t want to tell me the whole story yet, I’ll try and read between the lines. People mess up. Every day. They make bad choices about food, about work, about all manner of things. There’s no black and white answer. It’s a combination of were the intentions good, or at least understandable, and are they truly sorry. If you can deal with the answers to those questions, you can forgive someone.”
“I suppose so. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You always talk sense into me whenever I’m having a moment,” she said. “That’s what sisters are for. Now, make sure you do some crazy fun stuff tomorrow. Paris is supposed to be a fun trip and you’re too young for a midlife crisis, so get some sleep and have a fantastic time!”
Sophie lay there silently in the dark room contemplating Claire’s words. Were Edouard’s actions understandable? She supposed they were. If she were cursed, wouldn’t she do everything she could to break it? Even if it meant a whole lot of inconvenience for someone else? She was never in actual danger, he’d made sure she was cared for. He knew she could get back to her time and wasn’t stranded. It hadn’t been malicious.
It had hurt her, though, and her fear had been real. He could have just told her. But then, what would she have done? She would have come back to her own time immediately, and he would have lost his one chance at breaking the curse. He didn’t have a whole lot of options. Could she really say she’d have done anything differently in his shoes? The truth is no matter what he had done, somehow Edouard continued to pull at her heart. Ugh!
The drapes were closed, but she felt as though Notre Dame were still watching her, that it could see into the room, into her soul. Weary of the revolving questions in her head, she turned the bedside lamp on and flicked through the travel guide. She hadn’t yet visited the Eiffel Tower, so she read the book’s article about the Tower’s history. Eventually, her eyes began to feel heavy. She leaned over and flicked off the light, but sleep still eluded her for a while. Eventually she drifted off, but it was a fitful sleep filled with memories.
Chapter 34
The alarm sounded, unceremoniously ripping her from sleep. Sophie sluggishly moved to turn off the blaring noise. Memories of her dreams clung to her. It had been almost three a.m. before she finally dozed off, exhausted from fighting the image of Edouard's handsome face every time she closed her eyes. But even sleep had given her no respite, with dreams showing the best of the times they'd spent in Paris haunting her. She flung back the covers and rolled to the side of the bed, grinding the heels of her hands into her tired eyes. She checked the time.
Eight thirty a.m. It was time for breakfast, but she didn’t feel much like eating. Last night’s dreams kept replaying in her mind, reminding her how she had felt when she spent time with him. Alive. Free. Wanted. Secure. She wondered if she’d been too hasty in not giving him a chance to talk. He’d made a mistake, but hadn’t she made those in her life too?
She dressed in her trusty jeans and baby blue sweater and left the hotel without going for breakfast. She rushed through reception, not stopping to see who was on the desk. She just wanted to be outside in the fresh air and take some time to think about what to do. She wanted to be somewhere as neutral as possible and unconnected to her and Edouard. Leaving Paris was a bit extreme, so she opted to go to see the Palais Garnier, as it was built long after her visit to the past and was in the opposite direction from Notre Dame.
She chose to walk rather than hop on the Batobus or get a taxi. It would help to clear her mind, she thought. It was less than
an hour’s walk, and she enjoyed the leisurely stroll through the streets filled with cafes, restaurants, and stores. She treated herself to a small box of truffles from Godiva on the way, saving them for a later date when she could stomach food.
She took some pictures on her phone of the opera house and uploaded them to Instagram and Facebook, aware that she’d been in Paris for days and had yet to really post any touristy social media updates. She’d barely logged onto her accounts in the last couple days. When you spent a couple of weeks in medieval times, you soon lost the modern addiction to all things internet related. Although she couldn’t deny that Google Maps had been a definite necessity in getting around Paris without stopping to ask for directions every few minutes. At least medieval Paris was small, and you could navigate easily by the enormous landmarks like the Louvre and Notre Dame that dwarfed everything around them.
She meandered up and down unfamiliar streets with no real destination in mind, turning over the situation in her head. Technically impossible or not, she had time travelled to medieval Paris, she was sure. She was also sure she wasn’t crazy. Edouard then, was very real, and he was here as the old man again to try and speak to her. Would he try and convince her to come back? Would she go?
She decided it was time to open the envelope, but before she broke the seal, she hesitated, worried about what was inside. It could be a note saying goodbye forever, she realized, although her instincts said otherwise. If she read the note and understood what he wanted, she might be able to make a better decision on what to do.
A tiny café tucked away down a backstreet beckoned to her and she entered, noting the rustic décor. There were only a couple of other people in the café, also on their own. and Sophie felt relaxed and at ease in the little place off the beaten track. Sophie ordered herself a glass of Chardonnay and carried it to one of the many empty tables. After taking a large sip, she set the glass on the table and opened her purse. She removed the note that Helene had given her and, with trembling hands, opened the envelope.
She didn’t read it straight away. The idea that it hadn’t been a dream was terrifying to her, not just for the time travel implications. Edouard had hurt her more thoroughly than anyone ever had before. That was the sharp side of love—it gave your lover the ability to cut you deeper than even they knew.
A feeling of defeat riveted through her as she thought about how she had built her hopes around him, trusted him with her most tender emotions. and allowed him to see her vulnerability. He had lied in order to deceive her into falling in love. Or did he? Wouldn't they have fallen in love anyway? Why did she feel somewhere deep down inside that the love she had felt for this man couldn’t be stopped?
She tried to keep her face calm, but it barely concealed the turmoil boiling inside her, the well of tears that threatened to spring to the surface at any moment. She was tired, more exhausted than she had been in a long time. The strain on her sanity was taking its toll and holding a letter from Edouard in her shaking hands wasn't helping her to keep her emotions under control.
Feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to help matters. Still, she hesitated. She felt an urge to throw away the letter, never read it. She should throw it away. She wanted to throw it away. She belonged at home, here, in this time. She didn't throw it away.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the sheet of paper over and began to read. Once she reached the end of the letter, Sophie rose from her seat, sipped the last of the Chardonnay, and headed for Notre Dame.
She stood at the main entrance to the cathedral, turning in a slow circle, studying the landscape for a familiar figure. It didn’t take long for her to spot him, shuffling slowly towards her. His wizened features were almost grotesque, but now that she’d known the handsome young man underneath them they were no longer repulsive to her.
He approached slowly, cautiously, and she lifted a hand in a slight wave. He smiled at the gesture and picked up the pace a little. When he was in front of her, neither of them spoke. Silence stretched between them like an ocean, the tension rising around them like waves that might crash down at any moment and engulf them. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
Finally, he broke the silence. “You read my note. I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
“I’m glad you waited,” she said.
“I would have waited forever.”
“Shall we walk?” She gestured to the bridge over the Seine. She didn’t want to go inside Notre Dame. It was still too painful.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said.
“I know. I read your letter.” She looked over his shoulder, avoiding direct contact. She could see the dome of Sacre-Coeur rising above the rooftops in the distance.
“I’ve never been sorrier for anything in my life. Do you accept the apology?” Hope shone in his eyes, and she didn’t have the ability to snatch that away, even if she wanted to.
“I suppose we can be friends,” she said, giving him a wan smile.
“I would like that very much,” he said.
“Perhaps we can see some of modern Paris together. It will be nice to have some company.” As the words came out, she realized that she truly meant it.
“I would be honored,” he said, bowing his head.
They crossed the bridge and strolled along the left bank of the Seine, both lost in their memories for a short while.
“Do you remember when I arrived in your Paris and got horse manure on my feet?” She wrinkled her nose at the memory.
He laughed, and it reminded her of the young Edouard. “Yes, I remember. How could I forget? You were so… hot messy? Is that how you say it?”
She threw her head back and laughed helplessly. “You mean a hot mess? Where did you learn that?”
“I remember you saying it. I remember everything like it was yesterday,” he said sadly.
“It was only last week for us,” Sophie said, her own tone reflecting his sadness. It felt like years had passed, and yet at the same time it was all still fresh and raw.
“So, what shall we see first?” she asked him.
“I have not seen the Tower up close,” he said, gesturing towards where the Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance
“The Eiffel Tower! It’s so strange that it wasn’t there in your time. It’s probably the most famous landmark in Paris now.”
“Then we should see this famous tower properly,” he said, offering his arm. She took it, once again surprised at the strength that remained in his aged body despite his frail appearance.
They hopped on the Batobus and visited the Tower. Standing at the bottom of it, Sophie felt incredibly small. “Let’s go all the way to the top!” she said.
Edouard looked unsure. “It is so high! Is it safe?”
“Yes,” she laughed, and she pulled him into the queue for tickets for the elevator to the top. The lift had windows so that they could look out over the city and beyond as they rose. Edouard shuffled his feet and kept his eyes mostly on the floor. “Are you claustrophobic?” she asked him.
“I do not understand.” His brow creased in confusion.
“Are you afraid of small, enclosed spaces?” she clarified.
“Not particularly, I just do not like these moving boxes,” he said. A couple that were just behind them sniggered at his description of an elevator.
The top of the Eiffel Tower was breathtaking. They were too high to be able to see Paris in any real detail, but they could see out beyond for miles and miles. The wind was strong up at the top of the Tower, and she held Edouard’s arm tightly in an irrational fit of fear that his feeble old body might blow away, despite the strength she felt coiled in those frail looking arms.
“The view is incredible,” he whispered as they stood together looking out across the landscape. It felt like they could see to the very ends of the world. Seeing the vastness of the open land spread out before them made her feel particularly small.
“It really is,” Sophie agreed.
Chapter 35
Onc
e they had seen the view from several angles, and the wind whipping at her hair was becoming an irritation, they got back in the elevator. This time, Edouard kept his eyes up and looked out the window, and Sophie squeezed his arm as they watched the Paris rooftops come into view.
They got off the elevator on the second floor, which turned out to be Sophie’s favorite. She’d enjoyed seeing all across the open land from the top, but here on the second floor there were amazing panoramic views across the city, and she could pick out every landmark. She pointed out the ones she’d already visited to Edouard.
“The museum,” she said, pointing out the Musee National du Moyen Age. “The tapestries from Madame Petellier are in there. They’ve added new ones since I stayed at her home, ones that showed you and me, and then just you after I left. It was when I saw them that I knew I hadn’t just dreamt it all.”
He smiled wistfully. “I asked my father to have them made and to gift them to Madame Petellier to go with the others.”
“You looked so sad,” she said. “Was that just because I left?”
He nodded. “I knew that you might leave if I told you the truth. I thought I was prepared for it, that doing the right thing would make it worth it.” He paused and looked at her. “I was wrong, I wasn’t prepared.”
“I wish things had been different.”
“But they are not.” Edouard’s eyes captured hers, understanding and sadness melded in those amber depths.
“They are not,” she agreed.
Edouard preferred the first floor—the glass panels in the floor terrified him at first, but once he realized they were safe to walk on without plummeting to the ground, he was mesmerized by watching the people walking below. “They look like tiny insects,” he marveled.
Sophie agreed that it was pretty surreal to see the people walking below you, but when you’d time travelled and fallen in love with a medieval Duke who’d popped to the future to see the Eiffel Tower with you, it was pretty hard to be totally impressed by anything anymore.
