Choices

The soft sand is warm under my bare feet. The sun is on my shoulders, heating my already brown skin. A breeze, cool and teasing, rolls off the ocean, filling my nose with the smell of salt and brine. I make my way close to the water line, trying not to burn my feet. My hair is getting tousled in the breeze. I finally find a spot and shake out my towel, laying it down. I sigh as I get my feet off the sand. I relax, gazing over my shoulder towards the mountains. They’re purple against the azure blue sky, the tops hidden behind white, puffy, cotton candy clouds. Sighing again, I pull my knees up to my chest and gaze out over the ocean. It’s a darker version of the sky, clear and blue. Except for the waves. They crash against the beach in a steady rhythm, calming. Another breeze comes off the ocean, pulling at my hair and cooling my sweaty skin. The sun isn’t all that brutal today, but it’s still fairly warm.

Kids are running around, covered in sand or dripping with ocean water. Their laughs and giggles, shouts of excitement, all fill me with joy. Parents, teens and other adults lounge, talking and tanning. Some groups of people have coolers and bags full of lunch and are reaching for them, ready to feed their hungry families. Some pack up, putting shirts or shorts on, and head to the beachfront stores and restaurants.

I’m happy just staying where I am. The restaurants will be packed for the next hour or two, hungry locals and tourist who are enjoying themselves, eating and relaxing. The stores are full of tourists. I want to enjoy the beach while I wait for people to come back to the beach or move on.

I know, I’m kind of an outsider. But I’ve been here long enough to have a repartee with some of the hires of these places. They know me. All I do is walk up to the front of the ice cream shop next to my favorite restaurant and they look up, smile and say “Hey! It’s the American Parisian!” before starting my order, or go to the restaurant – I swear, they have the best mussels for several miles and because they’re always fresh – and the waiters and waitresses take the time to say hello and have a conversation.

Even my accent changed since I’ve come here. My dad noticed. He’s Parisian, through and through, with his Northern accent. I’ve picked up the accent here, throwing in more vowels and elongating words. He laughed when I talked to him for the first time in a few weeks.

It’s really starting to feel like home again. I’m happy. I smile as another breeze gently wraps around me and brings me back to now. I lay out now and feel the sand shift under me as I lay down. The warm, sunny day keeps me relaxed and mellow. I pull my book close and read. For hours. Until I realize the beach is packed again. I pack away my things and pull on my shorts again before heading to the stores and restaurants – flip flops on this time, although they don’t help keep my feet cool.

I don’t even bother with the over-touristy shops. I head for my favorite store. It’s owned by the aunt and uncle of a good friend of mine. Anne smiles when I walk in. She has a half liter of house sangria waiting for me. She kisses me on the cheeks – two on each – and she asks how I’m settling in. I live down the street from her and I go down to their house once a week for dinner. But these conversations are saved for when I come to the store on her shift. I am honest and say that I am good. Enjoying my Saturday, everything finally unpacked. I know what she’s really waiting to hear – if I’m settling with my long-term boyfriend, who is coming here to stay next month. I tell her that I’m hoping he’ll seal the deal as soon as he gets here, but who knows? I move around the store as she helps another customer. I hear them chatter away about family and work. That’s what I love about Anne – she gets to know her customers, even though half her profit comes from regulars in the summer. They usually bring most, if not all, the profit in the off-season.

Moments later, Anne comes up to me again and we talk about family and life as I pick out postcards to send home, another beach towel, and a new bag. She rings me up and I’ve easily spent 40 euros. I thank her, confirm our dinner plans tonight – I’m meeting her back here when the shop closes at nine and her husband is meeting us around here for dinner – and I leave. I find myself walking to my favorite restaurant and sit down at a small table. One of the regular waiters smiles at me from a table he’s taking an order at.

I put my stuff under my table and relax as I listen to the chatter around me as people eat. People watching is also a favorite pastime.

Moments later, the waiter comes up with a glass of my favorite rose – with a bottle in a chill bucket – and asks me how I am. I laugh and tell him I am alright and finally settled. I say that whenever he as the time that he can come over and hang out. He thanks me and leaves to put in my order for mussels and fries – the mussels in a white wine sauce.

Sipping the sweet, fruity rose, I relax and pull out my book again. It’s a twenty minute wait, at least, until my food comes and sometimes the tourists are boring. So I get lost in the world of Harry Potter and don’t pay attention to the time anymore.

Before I know it, my waiter coughs sarcastically and I jump. I look up and smile, setting my book aside as he puts my plates down.

Thanking him, I dive into my food. The mussels are divine. The white wine sauce flavors the meat deliciously and the mussels are cooked just the way I like them. I am in foody heaven and I melt. I finish my mussels slowly, enjoying them. After I finish, I shovel my fries down with no inhibitions. I enjoy another glass of wine before I ask for my check.

My waiter comes back and flirts while I pull out my card and hand it to him. He knows I’m taken but it’s nice to know he wants to flirt.

I leave after I drop a tip on the table and walk next door for my ice cream. Two scoops of coffee ice cream in a cone, my usual. The server behind the counter greets me in the usual way and hands me my cone within moments. I hand her cash and ask her to keep the change. I grin and walk down the street slowly, enjoying the delicious confection. The sun is about halfway between the middle of the sky and the western horizon. There are still a lot of people around; there always is until about two or three a.m.

My ice cream finished, I walk into a clothing store. I am looking for new shorts and these stores always have nice things. Finding a cute blue pair, I nab one in my size and purchase them, putting them in my beach bag.

Glancing at my watch, I see I still have four hours before I meet Anne and Michel for dinner. I decide to go home to change and drop my things off.

I quickly walk home. All my stuff lands on the floor just inside the door. I grab my new shorts and head to my room. I find a cute white tank that matches the shorts. Changing, I throw my old shorts and bathing suit into the dirty clothes bin.

I slide my silver gladiators on before grabbing my bag and leaving again. I head back to the strip of restaurants and stores I was at not half an hour before. The energy has changed slightly. There are more teens and young adults, more party people. It’s almost five thirty and nothing is going on yet. But it feels like they’re waiting; waiting for the night to start, for the freaks to come out. I feed off the energy and feel more vibrant and alive. It’s nice.

I don’t think, I move. The breeze rushes around me and I am enjoying it. I hear music closer to the beach and head that way. People are dancing. I join the fray. I’ve always enjoyed dancing; the live music just adds to the atmosphere.

Before I know it, there’s a small group of people dancing with me. I laugh and get my dance on for real. It’s so nice to let loose and be myself. This is exactly how I enjoy my Saturdays – great day at the beach, having plans with friends, awesome food and somewhere I can show off.

This is the lifestyle I wanted to show my boyfriend. A nice, easy-going one, one where we can enjoy ourselves as much as we want, even if we have to work hard to support ourselves.

The song changes and it’s another upbeat tune. I keep my groove on, happy to just show off for the people around me. Laughing, I trip over my own feet. A hand grips my waist before I have the chance to fall. The hand feels strong, yet gentle. I tense for a moment before I straighten and turn to thank the person attached to the hand. I pause, at a loss for words, when my eyes make contact with familiar chocolate brown eyes. Eyes that I haven’t seen in ten years. My heart skips a beat, then stutters, before it calms into a regular rhythm again. My chest flutters as I take short, quick breaths.

“Hi,” he says, in his beautiful, deep voice, his accent more pronounce as he smiles.

“Hey,” I manage, my own Parisian accent showing through.

He grins and I blush. I thought that my own accent was on its way out; I guess not. His hand releases my waist after a moment.

“I saw you walk down this way and I wanted to see how you’ve been doing,” he says sweetly. “It’s been awhile since I saw you.”

“I’ve been good, Adrien,” I say hesitantly.

“May I?” he asks. I nod.

He wraps an arm around my waist and grabs my hand, pulling me towards him. We start dancing. I can’t help but relax and start laughing again as we dance in quick circles. He grins down at me. I forgot how beautiful his smile is; my heart soars and I get butterflies in my stomach. I smile back at him. It’s so easy to be happy with him. Even if there has been ten years since we last saw each other.

“So, I hear you’re having dinner in town with Anne and Michel,” Adrien says as we quick step to the edge of the dancing area.

“Yeah; Anne decided she didn’t want to cook dinner tonight and we decided to stay out in the town instead,” I respond easily.

“I’d like to stay and have dinner with you.”

I pause a moment to think before I respond. “Are you sure?” I ask. “Don’t you have other plans?”

“I don’t,” he responds. His eyes lose the twinkle they had only a moment before. “My girlfriend broke up with me last week.”
Oh. Well, doesn’t that change things? My heart aches for him. Yes, we haven’t seen each other in years. But we have been keeping up with each other through social media and phone calls. We’ve gotten to know each other and become great friends. He knows my current situation with my boyfriend and my being here. But Adrien is … is that sadness in his eyes?

“Oh… Well, sure, you can join us tonight. I’m all settled in my house, so you can come by with me later, too,” I respond, hoping to cheer him up.

It works; he grins again, the light back in his eyes. My heart flutters again. I’m glad I can make him feel better, even if it is a dinner date with his aunt and uncle.

He lets me go and we wander down to the beach. All of a sudden, I long for being close to him physically, for his warmth and gentleness. I yearn to hold him, even if it is just for a moment. I wonder where it comes from before I let the thought go. I shouldn’t want him like that; I am taken, and I’m sure my boyfriend and I will be closer to tying the knot when he gets here.

But there’s something about Adrien. He’s always been patient with me, even when I’ve been a complete witch and on an emotional rampage. He was comforting when I called him after my grandmother died, sending me care packages for months on end until I felt better, and helping me through my problems.

I mentally shrug and enjoy our silence as we walk down the beach. We have these moments of quiet understanding, happy with just each other’s company. It happened a lot on the phone, too. We’d get through one conversation and have a few moments of pause before we started talking again. He glances down at me.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks me.

“Nothing,” I respond.

He laughs. “Come on, you keep looking at me.”
“I’ve just been thinking about when my grandmother died. And every month, for like six months, you sent me care packages. Each and every one of them filled with chocolate, cookies, cards, little trinkets... It was like you knew exactly what I liked and what would make me feel better. And the conversations we had about her. You always knew what to say,” I respond.

He gives me a sad smile and wraps an arm around my shoulders. A hand runs down my arm and he lets me go. As soon as he lets me go, I instantly ache for his touch again. I dismiss the need nearly as quickly as it comes.

“How’s your boyfriend?” he asks.

“He’s doing well,” I say. “He’s just finishing up some projects before he leaves his job to come here. He’s already got a job lined up here.”

“That’s good. What are you up to?”

“I have a job in Paris. I only go to Paris for two weeks a month; I actually just got home two days ago from a six week trip up there. I’m working from home for the next three,” I say, grinning.

“We have time to hang out then.”

I smile, happy that my friend wants to spend time with me; I am happy that we found each other again, even if it was a chance meeting tonight.

It’s quiet again. Adrien reaches for my hand, squeezing it, and lets it go. Just with that gesture, I know he feels the same way.

I glance down at my watch, only just realizing how late it is.

“Adrien, we’re almost late meeting Anne,” I say, turning around and almost running back up the beach. I hear him chuckle as he catches up to me.

“What are we doing for dinner?” he asks.

“I don’t know; Anne said she wanted pizza,” I respond.

We reach the store just as Anne is closing it down. She grins as we walk up. I smile back. She finishes locking up before turning back again.

“Adrien found you,” she says. “I’m glad.”
“Of course we found each other,” I respond with a giggle. “You can’t keep friends apart for long.” I throw a smile up to Adrien. He grins back down to me.

“Michel will be here in a few minutes. Let’s go to the restaurant,” Anne tells us.
We head down the street and grab a table at the restaurant I was at earlier. I grin at the same waiter who waited on me earlier. He smiles and greets us. I introduce him to Anne and Adrien before he grabs us menus and a bottle of rose. He knows me only too well.

Anne decides on a cheese pizza. Adrien and I are going to split a pizza with ham and cheese. We put in our order before relaxing and sipping on wine. Anne and Adrien take a moment to catch up. Adrien has MIA recently, I gather, and Anne wants to know what he’s been up to.

Michel meets us halfway through their conversation. I stand and cheek-kiss him. We sit down and start up a conversation. We talk about work and menial things – he’s just as up to date on my life as Anne is, but not about the more in depth as she is – as Anne and Adrien finish their conversation.

Our waiter comes back and takes Michel’s order. With that, Anne and Michel talk about the day as Adrien and I share jokes and laughs. I tell him what’s been going on with my family and friends, giving him a snapshot of my life. I hear my Parisian accent come back, thick and strong. I don’t try to stop it. I know it will come when I talk about home and things I miss. I can feel Adrien’s grin before he actually smiles at my accent. I shove at his shoulder before glaring at him and getting back to my story.

Adrien laughs at something my best friend did two weeks ago. I can’t help but laugh with him; I mean, she went out and got drunk, got into the wrong car and thought she was flying to the moon. It’s a bit unlike her to do that, but it was a funny story.

I’m so happy that I have my friend back. I feel calm and content, completely at peace, for the first time since I moved here. I didn’t realize it’s his presence I needed to feel this. I just thought I was anxious to have my boyfriend here. But there was an ache in my chest I didn’t realize was there until Adrien ran into me, and I don’t know if my boyfriend coming down would cure it.

Two hours later, we finish dinner. We split the bill three ways and paid. I leave another decent tip. It has been a lighthearted, happy evening spent with great friends. I am happy that it happened the way it did.

We all walk home together, happily chattering about nothing, enjoying the cool night air. I gaze up at the sky, amazed all over again at the amount of stars I can see. I smile.

I come back to reality when I feel Adrien’s arm around my waist. I blink. We’re in front of Anne and Michel’s house.

“I’ve got to get some stuff from inside. Come in with us while I get what I need,” Adrien whispers in my ear. I nod and follow them into the house.

“Would you like some wine? Coffee?” Anne asks.

I shake my head, sitting on the couch as I wait for Adrien. She gives me a questioning look. I shrug and shake my head – saving the conversation for another day when she’s at work.

Moments later, Adrien is back, a bag slung over his shoulder. He smiles at me before kissing his aunt goodbye, giving his uncle a hug. He follows me out the door and shuts it behind him.

We walk down the street to my house. I fumble with my keys until I find my house key. I let us in and Adrien stops just inside the door.

“It’s a nice place,” he says. I grin over my shoulder as I walk into the kitchen,

“Would you like some coffee or anything?” I ask.

“Sure,” he responds as he follows me into the kitchen.

I start brewing the coffee in my coffee maker. I lean against the kitchen counter as I patiently wait for the coffee to finish.

Adrien is sitting at the table, looking his hands. I know there’s something on his mind – it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, but I know him. This hesitant quiet means that he’s got something that he wants to talk about. I don’t push it. I just wait.

Waiting patiently for him to talk, I check him out. His face looks more sculpted and grown up. His nose still is slightly large for his face, but it works for him. He let his dark brown hair grow out a little bit. I can see muscles under his t-shirt. He’s grown up to be a fairly handsome young man. I smile at his good looks before he looks up.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I… um… Listen, it’s going to sound… I don’t know,” Adrien says as he gets up from the table. I wait. He walks up to me. “But, for some reason, I …” He can’t finish his sentence, for some reason. His hands land on my hips. I blush and look down at our feet. I look back up and his face is only a few inches from mine.

“Adrien…” I say.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers. His words hurt. They hurt because he knows I’m in a relationship. They hurt because tonight showed me a different future; one with him in it, one in a different way that he would be otherwise. Because, in the interim of the evening, I realized the same thing.

The years of conversations, of being there for each other, even though we weren’t in the same country, let alone on the same continent, keeping up our friendship this long. It couldn’t have stayed like it was without some sort of longing, of mark. We’ve shared deep moments with each other, moments of pain, of happiness, of calm and contentment. Even though we lived so far away. I didn’t realize that it had such an impact on him, let alone me.

I gaze into his dark eyes. Instinctively, without giving myself time to think, I wrap my arms around his waist and stand on tiptoes and kiss him. My eyes close as he kisses me back. His hands cradle my face as we kiss tenderly, gently. My hands come up from his waist and rest on his chest. Adrien pulls away first, but only long enough to look into my eyes with contentment. He kisses me again with passion and joy. One of his hands comes down to my waist and pulls me to him. My eyes close again as I fit myself against his body, my arms going up to wrap around his shoulders.

We stand in my kitchen, fit against each other perfectly, kissing. The moment we separate, we look into each other’s eyes. It’s at that moment that I realize I’m stuck. I’m in love with the man standing in my kitchen, his arms around my waist. But I’m in a steady relationship with a man who’s dropping his life at his home to come life here with me.

Adrien watches my face, looking into my eyes, as all of this goes through my head. He looks puzzled as my mind races to make sense of what’s going on. One of his hands cups my cheek as I sort through it.

“Talk to me,” Adrien says.

“I’m stuck… I am in love …” I say.

“With your boyfriend,” he says sadly.

“No. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I were in love with him,” I respond. “But the problem is he’s dropping his life at home to come live here with me, Adrien.”

I look up at him as his face drops. It pains me to see him like this, it really does. I can almost see his own thoughts race through his head. He looks at me again, gives me a gentle, quick kiss and turns to walk out of the kitchen. I feel cold without him standing in front of me; my heart is breaking.

“Adrien!” I call. I run to keep him from leaving. “Adrien, please stay here tonight. Please.” I give him a pleading look before adding, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight knowing you’re upset and not here with me.”

He nods. Forgetting the coffee, I take his hand and lead him upstairs. I show him to the guest room and leave him to his peace. At least now I know he won’t do something stupid. Before I can leave the room, he grabs my hand and pulls me to him. He sits down on the bed as he pulls my hand. I sit down on his lap and he holds me.

“I love you,” he whispers in my ear.

“I know. And I love you,” I respond. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, though.”

“Follow your heart.” It’s all he says before he lets me go. I get up and start to walk out. At the door, I glance over my shoulder. He’s lying on the bed, facing the wall. My heart breaks.

I head to my room. Shutting the door, I sigh, leaning against it and sliding down to the ground, sitting on the floor. I rest my forehead against my knees, my arms around my chest. I think about the situation I’m in. I don’t know what I’m …

I stand up and head back to the guest room. Opening the door a crack, I see that Adrien is laying on the bed, just in a pair of shorts. He’s beautiful. I smile and open the door all the way, letting myself in. He looks at me and smiles. I lie down next to him and he wraps his arms around me, smiling. I smile, too, as I snuggle close to him.

Moments later, I fall asleep, content, lying in the arms of the man I love. I have a difficult phone call to make tomorrow. I have to call home and break it to the man I thought I was in love with that I can no longer be with him. But right now, I’m savoring the moment with Adrien. I breathe in his delicious, musky smell, sighing, just before I am out, dreaming happy dreams.