One Summer in Paris(115)

“I’m sorry.” She pressed her lips to his cheek, speaking in French. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I wanted so many things. I had so much ambition, it burned inside me like rocket fuel and I knew that if we—”

“Hush.” He covered her lips with his fingers. “I knew what you wanted. And I always knew who you were.”

“If I’d been a different type of woman—”

“—then maybe I wouldn’t have loved you. You needed to leave. You needed to do all those things you wanted to do. Why would I have stopped you from becoming who you wanted to be?”

Her eyes filled. “You’re so unselfish, and I’m so selfish.”

“No. I loved who you were, Mimi. You were fierce and fearless, in love with the possibilities of life. Just tell me one thing—” he searched her gaze with his “—has your life been everything you wanted it to be?”

She thought of all the adventures she’d had. And then she thought about the bad times. Judy’s addiction. Judy’s death. Those moments where you were sucked so deep into darkness you thought you’d never surface.

But that was life, wasn’t it? If her work as a photographer had taught her anything, it was that pain was part of being human.

“My life has been interesting,” she said finally. She should tell him, of course. And she would, but first she wanted to enjoy this moment.

He cupped her face in his hands and she gazed up at him, thinking how strange it was that age didn’t change a person inside. The packaging might change, but the product was the same.

He was still handsome. Even with gray hair and weathered skin, he was handsome. Strong bones. Calm, kind eyes. That slow smile.

The bell clanged again, but Mimi didn’t pay attention until she heard Grace’s voice.

A moment later her granddaughter appeared and she looked at Mimi and Antoine in astonishment.

“Mimi? Toni?”

Mimi swallowed and eased out of Antoine’s arms. It had to be now.

“Antoine, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Grace.”

“We know each other well.” Grace stepped forward, smiling, but puzzled. “How do you two—?”

“She was the love of my life,” Antoine said. His hand gripped Mimi’s tightly. “This was where we met. We spent a glorious summer together.”

One summer in Paris, Mimi thought. The best summer of her life.

Grace looked bemused. “And what happened?”

Antoine gave a tired smile. “If you know your grandmother well, you’ll know she has an adventurous spirit. Committing to one man felt like securing herself with a padlock, am I right, Mimi?”

Mimi nodded. She couldn’t speak.

Should she make excuses? Should she apologize for the person she’d been then?

No. A person should never have to apologize for who they were.

“I wasn’t ready,” she said. “I wasn’t ready for the life we would have made together. I needed something different. So I ended it.”

“She left me a note and a photograph.” His mouth twisted. “I carried that photograph with me for years. I put it inside a book for safekeeping. I had hundreds of books. About six months ago I moved from my house to a small apartment. An old friend helped me move and clear some of the books. He brought them here. When I went to look for the photograph, it wasn’t there. I realized I’d muddled up the book. My memory isn’t what it was. Or maybe it fell out when my cleaner was dusting and she put it back in a different book. I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t find it. I’ve been looking for the photo ever since.”

Grace looked stunned. “Every day, you go through each book on every shelf. That’s why?”

“It’s lost.”

“What? No! No, it isn’t.” Grace opened her purse and scrabbled around in it. “How could I have forgotten something so important? Oh, where is it? I know it’s here—” She tugged out a map of the Louvre, followed by some stray receipts and a printed email. “Aha! Here it is.” She pulled out a photograph and waved it, triumphant. “I found it when I was sorting through the books. I meant to give it to Mimi the other day, but I forgot. I think I was a little distracted.”

Mimi had no doubt David was the cause of the distraction.

She took the photograph and felt a sudden pressure in her chest.

She remembered the day it was taken. They’d been standing on Pont Neuf with the sun blinding them. She’d known then that she had to make a choice. The most difficult choice of her life.

“This was all I had left of you.” Antoine took the photo from Grace. “This and the note. This was the end of it.”

Now. She had to tell him now.

“It wasn’t the end.” Mimi swallowed. “I had a daughter. We had a daughter. Judy. I was already in New York when I discovered I was pregnant.”

Antoine was silent for a moment. “And you had no way of contacting me.”

She could lie, but that time was past. “I didn’t try to contact you. You would have wanted to marry me and I couldn’t be a stay-at-home wife, Antoine. I just couldn’t. I wasn’t ready for any of that. I made the choice that was right for me at the time.”

He was silent. There was a sheen in his eyes. “A daughter?”