Page 61 of It Happened In Paris

“Yes, it is. And you’re beautiful,” I replied, nuzzling into her neck. My words brightened her cheek with a rosy hue.

After snapping countless photos—and even letting Paris try her hand at using my phone—we eventually descended, promising her we would come back again.

We strolled through the Champ de Mars gardens with Vivian’s hand in mine while Paris skipped ahead. Near the base of the tower, beneath its iron framework glowing in the sun’s golden light, I quietly pulled Vivian to a stop.

She turned toward me, the soft light in her eyes reminiscent of the spring sky. Her lips parted slightly as, beneath the monument that had witnessed our very first night together, we shared a kiss. Slow and deep, full of meaning. Her fingers curled into my coat, and my heart pounded out of its cage.

This was exactly as it should have been—from the very beginning.

“I love you, Vivian,” I whispered, gazing deeply into her eyes.

“I love you too.”

“More kissing?” Paris interrupted, head tilted inquisitively. I laughed and swept her up in my arms as her giggles filled the air.

“Well, they call Paris the City of Love, and it is rather romantic. And I love your mother, and I love you, my darling girl.” What was this feeling taking over my body? My heart light, I couldn’t remember a time when I ever felt this buoyant. The heavy despair that had enveloped me for years after my breakup with Janet seemed like a distant memory.

I wasn’t naïve enough to think that challenges wouldn’t arise as Vivian and I worked through our situation and parenting, but I was overly confident we could overcome them—together.

“Okay, who is ready for lunch in the Montmartre?” I asked, and off we went, continuing with our itinerary for the day.

Our car left us at the base of the stairs leading to the streets of Montmartre. Paris attempted to count each one, but soon lost track on her way to one hundred. I carried her the rest of the way, pretending I wasn’t out of breath. Scaling all of those steps wore Paris—and us—out enough that she sat nicely through a leisurely meal at a sidewalk café Vivian fondly remembered from her previous time here.

We dined on French onion soup, steakfrites, croque-monsieur,and finished with chocolate crepes topped with Chantilly cream. Throughout the meal, Vivian’s soft moans of content set me on edge—in a good way and stirred something wild in my heart.

Paris immediately fell asleep in my arms as we met our car and driver onRue Lepic.But the day was far from over. In the afternoon, we visitedParc Zoologique de Paris,where I had arranged a private tour so that Paris could marvel at the wild animals. Once she realized where we were, her energy renewed—her eyes wide with wonder as she absorbed everything.

While the tutor and nanny answered her endless questions about each creature, Vivian and I strolled hand in hand.

“This trip with you has been so different from my life before,” she said, looking up at me. “Will it always be like this?” Pride swelled in my chest, knowing I could offer her and Paris experiences no one else ever could.

“If by that you mean surprises at every corner and spoiling you both, then yes. Nothing makes me happier, cupcake.” I kissed the back of her hand. “Do you love it here? We could live in Paris, you know.”

“I’ve always loved Paris, but I also miss home. Holly Creek, my shop, Paris’ school—a sense of normalcy. I feel like the charmed life we’ve been living since the hospital has been agrande voyagewith you, and none of it is real. In New York, living in your penthouse, and getting to see plays and museums once you two felt better, was lovely. And now Paris? I’m waiting for life to pinch me and make me wake up from a dream because I know this can’t be our real life forever.”

“Sure it could. I can give you any kind of life you want, Vivian. Just tell me what it is and I’ll make it happen.”

She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Even if I want to go back to Holly Creek for a while? I’d love to return to my shop, to see Paris play with her little friends. Her birthday is in July, and she wants a slumber party. And you could be there with us—the dad at the barbecue.” Her eyes sparkled, and I knew how much it meant to her.

“Well, I do have a house to build there anyway, if that’s what you want.”

“I do. After this trip, Paris should return to her class at school and finish out the year. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for us, but I’d love to see you live in our world for a while. I think Holly Creek could do wonders for you, Richard.”

“If that’s where you two are, then that’s where I’ll be. Pleased to be the Master of the Grill.” I winked, relieved to get on the same page with her. “And of course, I’ll be planning our next adventure with Paris somewhere new.”

“Of course,” she laughed.

We wrapped up the day at Angelina’s for their famous hot chocolate. By the time we finished, Paris had a bit of a chocolate smear on her nose.

“Come here, my little explorer,” I said, dabbing at her with my napkin to clean her up.

She declared, “This was the best day of my whole life, Daddy.”

Vivian glanced across the table at me with eyes that said just as much.

“Well, guess what? I have a feeling this will not be our last best day.”

Back at the hotel, Paris was sound asleep long before the elevator reached our suite. I gently carried her in, while Vivian pulled back the covers in the adjoining bedroom.

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