by Paige Elwood
“Oh,” he said, nodding sagely.
They’d discussed the internet briefly yesterday when she’d been uploading pictures of the Eiffel Tower to her Instagram and Facebook, to pacify Claire.
She took him down familiar streets as well as new ones, a peculiar sense of déjà vu clinging to her. Eventually, she spotted it, and they stopped outside the building. Today it was a modern, state-of-the art-clinic rather than a hospital.
“We can’t really go inside without a reason to visit,” she explained. “It’s not exactly a hospital now, but it is a clinic that treats people with medical conditions.”
“I am just proud it is still standing and helping the people of Paris in some way,” he said.
“It’s interesting. Your hospital actually became renowned for having the lowest death rates in France in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance.”
“The constant cleanliness,” Edouard said, his eyebrows raising as he remembered her instructions to him.
“Yes,” she grinned. “I told you.”
“You did.” He smiled. “Thank you. Your advice will have saved many lives.” Sophie beamed with pride. Both at being able to help, and at knowing the amazing man who had founded this hospital.
He seemed so genuinely pleased that his hospital had continued to help people, and she remembered the times he’d said he wasn’t a good man. Sophie thought he was too harsh on himself. He’d opened a hospital and she’d witnessed time and again his willingness to help others. He wasn’t a bad person, he just had never respected the idea of love.
Realization dawned on Sophie then, as neither had she. She had always dismissed the idea of love, too quick to see the failures around her and close herself off as a way to protect herself from the hurt. She and Edouard had been very similar in their approach to love.
The problem with their laissez-faire attitude to love was that you just couldn’t stop yourself from falling in love when it happened. And people were fallible. Inevitably they would fail, it was just the way of the world. What mattered were intentions and a willingness to make it right. Like Claire had said.
And he’d done what he could to make it right. She’d seen his sorrow and his pain sewn into the tapestries, and in his eyes at Notre Dame yesterday. Hadn’t they both made each other suffer enough? The love was still there. She cared about him, so much, even now.
She knew deep in her soul that she loved Edouard for exactly who he was. Even without any of the physical attraction that they’d both been guilty of chasing in lieu of love with other partners. It didn’t matter. That attraction had certainly been there when they were both their young selves, but something deeper connected them, something that couldn’t be broken, no matter what.
He’d never knowingly betray her now, she knew. Besides, it must have taken great courage for him to tell her the truth. His mistakes had all been in his plans before he met her, before he understood love—before she understood love. Perhaps she had needed him to open her heart just as much as he had needed her to break the curse.
Now, there was no question that they would both put each other first, cherish the other. Wasn’t that the whole point? Is this what unconditional love feels like? All she could see in the man standing before her now was someone honest, kind, and generous. The man she loved with her whole heart.
Why was life never simple? She’d rediscovered what he meant to her beyond the physical attraction, and they were unable to share a love that was quite what they’d shared before because of their circumstances.
“I wish we could go back,” she said.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Back to your time, where we could be together properly. I wish I knew in the garden what I know now.” She gazed down at her hand, at the space where the ring used to be.
“If you put the ring back on it will take us back. But that would mean leaving your life here again.”
“I need a little time to think,” she said. “Let’s walk a while.”
She took his arm, and they strolled yet again along the Quai. It could be the last time they ever made this walk together. Sadness rose in her like the tide, and she struggled to quell the waves of regret that threatened to drown her.
She took him to the Ile de La Cite. “I think it’s time we revisited Notre Dame,” she said. “It’s fitting I see it in this time with you by my side.”
He beamed, and they entered the cathedral arm in arm. Sophie was amazed at how the atmosphere had barely changed inside the great landmark. The same hushed silence hung in the air, and even as tourists walked the aisles and corridors there was still an air of great reverence.
The sun streamed in through the incredible stained-glass windows, and the raised altar looked over them as they approached. They made their way to the reliquary, which held some of the same relics she’d seen with Edouard, including a shard of the cross. There were also some new ones, listed as the relics of Sainte-Chapelle, and many others in ornate display cases, heavily protected.
He pulled her over to a case holding some smaller relics and pointed out a set of rings that were just like theirs but with rubies. He pulled on the chain around his neck, where both rings nestled together like lovers. “They are like ours,” he whispered, touching a finger to the glass case reverently.
“They are. Do you think they hold magic powers too?” she asked, gazing at the rings. They seemed to be gazing back at her, somehow recognizing her. She blinked. She was being silly, they were inanimate objects. Magic or not they didn’t watch people.
“Perhaps,” he said. “For the ones they are meant to work for they may hold great powers.”
“Were those rings meant for you and me?” she asked. She felt the absence of her ring now, missed the warmth it had always given off when she was close to Edouard. The warmth in her heart still lingered, she realized.
“Of course,” he said, taking hers off the chain and handing it to her. “It will only work its magic for you,” he said.
She gave it back to him. “Keep it safe for just a little while,” she said. She had to be certain—this time, she could not change her mind. If she put the ring on one more time, she would not be taking it off again. Her heart beat faster in her chest. She needed more time to think!
They walked and talked in the gardens of Notre Dame, reminiscing on their time spent together in his century. Sophie enquired about the Pelletier ladies, but Edouard was unsure as only days had passed in his time before he came to see her. He did not know if Delphine married Jean-Pierre, or if Isabeau’s marriage had developed into love.
“Hang on,” Sophie said, pulling her phone out of her purse. She did a little Google research and was thrilled to discover that all of the Petellier girls had apparently gone on to have several children and live happy lives as far as she could tell. She hoped they’d experienced something like what she felt for Edouard at some point in their lives, but she knew that what they had was so rare and special only a chosen few would ever come close to experiencing it.
He was as delighted as she was to hear that all seemed well for his friends, but a sadness still clouded his eyes.
“If you go back without me, will you marry?” she asked. He winced at her question and she regretted asking it.
“If I go back, I have a duty to provide an heir.” His brows furrowed, and he was deep in thought for a moment. “I did not leave on good terms with my father. He was angry with me.”
“Why?” Sophie asked.
“I wanted to marry you, and he felt you were not a good match.”
“He didn’t even meet me!” Sophie said, offended that the Duke had deemed her unworthy.
“He didn’t need to. He knew you were not a noblewoman, and that was the only thing he cared about. He said he would disown me.”
Sophie gasped. “I’m sorry,” she said. How cruel of the Duke to do that, Anger and indignation on both her and Edouard’s behalf swelled inside her. How dare anyone try and keep them apart. This was love,
real love, and nobody had the right to come between that. As she thought it, she knew her decision was made. Nothing and nobody could come between them. Not family, not time, not anything.
“I chose you anyway.” He took her hands in his, holding them gently. “I would always choose you.”
She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Let me see what happened after you left.” Sophie tapped the Duke’s name into Google and found more detail about him than she had about the Petelliers, due to his royal blood.
“It says he had two more sons. Oh, Edouard, you will be a brother!” she said, beaming.
“It also means I will not have to marry, if I did return” he said. “Nobody can replace you, and it is not fair to take a wife that I know I cannot honor.” She understood. After her disastrous date, she didn’t think she could ever have a proper relationship with another man.
In medieval Paris, he had seemed to her a man of unshakeable self-confidence, occasionally crossing the line into arrogance when they first met. Yet, there was always an air of vulnerability to him that she had sensed, and it had only ever drawn her closer to him.
Here, as an old man, he seemed stripped of some of that confidence, and the vulnerability was magnified. She wondered if it was the lack of wealth, recognition and title that caused it, or just plain age. Still, the more time they spent together, the more she stopped seeing the old man so much as she just saw Edouard.
She enjoyed their time together, and although his withered appearance didn't ignite her passion like his younger self, there was a pureness to the love they shared that had survived both his betrayal and his aged appearance. She wanted to spend time with him, be in his company. Hear him talk and laugh. Every moment they spent together reignited that deep, unconditional love that she'd felt.
And that was it. Their love really was unconditional. She'd felt betrayed, and she'd left, but the love itself remained. Her ego put conditions on staying with him, but her heart refused to truly leave him. She couldn't stop loving him any more than she could stop breathing. He was breath to her, just being with him brought her new life and profound joy.
Her choice was clear now. She was fooling herself if she thought she could go on and have a comfortable existence without this man. Or that he could go back to his time and resume his life as normal. She would go back with him.
Now that she’d been back and experienced the dullness of life without him, she was even more certain. He was worth it. They were worth it. Knowing that they would be without the security of his father’s title and land only cemented her resolve. She wanted him, Edouard. If that was in a chateau or a tin hut it didn’t matter one bit.
“I want to come back with you,” she said, the words leaving her in a rush of excitement.
“Are you sure?” He gripped her hands tightly, and tears made his eyes shine bright. “We will have no money, but I have good friends who may help us.”
“I’m certain. I don’t care about wealth. Let’s do it, let’s be together, forever.” She hugged him, full of joy and happiness.
When she pulled back from his embrace he took her ring from his pocket and poised it at the tip of her finger. “Last chance. Are you sure?”
“YES!” she said, laughing. She pushed her finger forward, forcing him to place the ring on her hand. The ring heated up, and a breeze swirled around them, rustling her hair and whipping at her clothes.
She closed her eyes as the breeze got faster and kept them squeezed shut until it stopped. She could still hear the sound of chattering and modern music, smell the food from the cafes. Her heart sank. Had it not worked? She opened her eyes, and the old man was gone. She was still in modern Paris. But she wasn’t alone. In front of her stood the young, handsome man of her dreams. Edouard.
Astounded, Sophie turned her face upwards to his, and her mouth was instantly captured in a searing kiss that stole her breath and set her pulse to an urgent drumming. Her fingers gripped his waist, and when their lips parted, an audible sigh escaped her. She lifted her gaze to stare into Edouard's dazzling amber eyes. That vibrant, intelligent gaze still made her heart leap with giddy excitement. Edouard cradled the side of her face, his thumb gently brushing away the single tear that traveled down her cheek.
The ring she now wore again twinkled on her finger as she raised a hand to his face, stroking the smooth, unwrinkled skin. “How?” she whispered.
“Love,” he said, gathering her up into another urgent kiss that she never wanted to end. He was always the only choice, she thought, before the kiss deepened and all of her thoughts melted into nothing.
Epilogue
LAX thrummed with people when they finally made it through passport control. Travelers jostled around them, and Sophie was very glad she was wearing ballet flats for the return flight home. She glanced over at Edouard, whose face was now a slightly healthier shade than it had been when they’d taken off from Charles de Gaulle. The concept of airplanes had fascinated him, but watching through the window as the ground got smaller and the clouds got closer had been a little too much for him. He’d played it as cool as he could, but Sophie hadn’t missed the look of terror in his eyes at take-off and landing.
As a frequent flyer, Sophie had no fears about flying, but her own nerves had been on edge when they approached passport control. She’d held her breath as Edouard had shuffled along the queue and slid his passport underneath the window. She’d been certain that immigration would detain him, and then what would they do?
Luckily Sabine’s charm on the fake passport worked… well, like a charm. Sophie felt a bit nauseous at the thought of having possibly just assisted in a pretty serious felony. But then, they could hardly apply for a real visa or passport when Edouard had no record of his birth, or any jobs or social security. Nobody just appeared in this day and age, there was always a trace. Tax bills, social media, credit files, voting registers. They couldn’t even tell the truth about how he got here, as that was just as likely to get them locked away in the crazy house.
She still half-expected immigration officers to chase after them, having realized something was wrong, but she relaxed as they entered the arrivals area and were swept up in the crowds. She wheeled along her new luggage with one hand, her other firmly in Edouard’s grasp. With a new haircut and a sharply tailored suit, he looked like a male model arriving in LA for a shoot, and Sophie couldn’t help but feel a little smug at all the jealous looks she was getting.
She guided him through the swarms of people and out to the pick-up point, where she spotted Claire’s car almost instantly. Claire and Amie were sitting in the front seats chatting, and Amie glanced over at her briefly and then looked away. She didn’t recognize me! Sophie thought. Probably because they were expecting her to be alone.
As she got a little closer to the car, Claire looked up and waved. At least my twin can always spot me, Sophie thought. As Claire took in the scene and the gorgeous man next to Sophie, her hand froze mid-wave. Sophie couldn’t help but giggle at the stupefied expression on her face. Amie looked like her eyes might fall out of her head.
Sophie opened the trunk, and Edouard heaved her case inside for her. “You don’t mind that there’s two of us to pick up, do you?” she asked Claire as she pulled open the passenger door and climbed inside, followed closely by Edouard.
“I definitely don’t mind!” Amie said, looking Edouard over. “Sophie! I know it’s traditional to bring souvenirs back when you travel, but holy smokes, you’ve surpassed yourself this time.”
“Ah, well,” Sophie said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a miniature Eiffel Tower keyring. “I didn’t forget something for you,”
“Thanks, I love it. But next time, I’ll take one of those.” She pointed at Edouard, whose mouth tilted into an amused smile.
“They only had one of these,” Sophie said, laughing. She was pleased it was her for a change turning up with a surprise boyfriend. That was usually Amie’s party trick.
“Maybe I should book my own trip
to France right now!” Amie pulled her phone out and started tapping away. “Where did you get him again?”
“Notre Dame,” Sophie and Edouard said in unison. If only Amie knew how much I went through to find him, Sophie thought. If only it had been as simple as finding him at a tourist attraction and arranging a date.
“So, is this... your mystery man?” Claire asked.
“The man I mentioned briefly on the phone, yes.” Sophie said. She didn’t want to get into a long discussion about Edouard yet. She’d still not decided if she should tell Claire the true story or give her the same one she’d tell everyone else—they met outside Notre Dame and became inseparable shortly after.
Claire raised an eyebrow approvingly. “I see you sorted out your crisis, then.”
“I sure did.” Sophie beamed. Amie shot them both a quizzical look, but neither twin explained it.
“Well, in that case, this calls for celebratory dinner,” Claire said.
“Are you making tacos?” Sophie said hopefully. Claire made the most amazing tacos. Her mouth was watering at the thought of them.
“What is… tacos?” Edouard asked.
Claire and Amie stared at him, mouths agape again. “You’ve never had tacos?”
Edouard shook his head and looked at Sophie to see if he’d said something wrong. Sophie squeezed his hand. “You are going to love tacos,” she grinned.
“Is it as good as the barbecue chicken you made for me?” he asked.
“Yes!” came the chorus from all three women.
“Wait!” Amie said. “She made you barbecue chicken?”
“Yes,” Edouard said.
“Sophie doesn’t cook!” Amie exclaimed. “She’d burn toast if she made it herself.”
“I’m not that bad!” Sophie protested. She could make toast.
“Well it tasted very nice, and it was definitely not burned,” Edouard said, smiling at Sophie. “I think she is a very good cook.”
