Chapter Three - Lost in Your Absence

The next four days in Paris were a whirlwind of work and presentations. My days were filled with back-to-back meetings, conferences, and networking events, leaving me little time to think about anything else. But no matter how busy I was, she was always there in the back of my mind.

Every morning, as I got ready, I found myself glancing out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Each time my phone buzzed, a small part of me hoped it was a message from an unknown number, but it never was. The city was huge, and the odds of running into her again seemed slim, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that we were meant to see each other again.

During my presentations, I forced myself to focus, delivering my points with precision and confidence. The audience responded well, and my colleagues congratulated me on a job well done. But as soon as the applause faded and the rooms emptied, my thoughts drifted back to that night.

I remembered the way she laughed, the warmth of her touch, and the intensity of our kiss. It had been so real, so electrifying, that it was impossible to forget. Each evening, after the day’s events had concluded, I walked through the city streets, hoping to stumble upon her in a café or passing by on her motorbike. But each night, I returned to my hotel room alone, the sense of disappointment growing stronger.

On the fourth day, after my final presentation, I found myself wandering through a small park near my hotel. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the trees, and couples strolled hand in hand along the paths. I sat on a bench, watching them, and felt a pang of longing.

Why had that night affected me so deeply? I had known her for only a few hours, two at most, yet she had left an indelible mark on my heart. It was more than just physical attraction—though that was certainly part of it. It was the way she made me feel, alive and seen in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.

I sighed and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my messages and emails. Work had gone well, and I should have been feeling accomplished. But instead, I felt a growing sense of emptiness. She had sparked something in me, and I couldn't let it go.

That evening, I called my mom again. She answered on the first ring, her face lighting up with a smile.

"Hey, sweetheart! How's everything going?"

"Hi, Mom. Work is going great, but..." I hesitated, not wanting to sound like a lovesick teenager or a broken record.

"But you can't stop thinking about her, can you?" she finished my sentence for me, her smile turning sympathetic.

I sighed. "Yeah. It's crazy, right? I barely know her mom, I mean, I don´t even know her name but I can't get her out of my head."

"Not crazy at all," she said gently. "Sometimes, it is what it is. I've been where you are with my high school sweetheart and it took everything to get over her. It's understandable because it sounds like you felt something that night."

"I did, weirdly," I admitted more to myself than to her. "But what if I never see her again? Or worse what if she felt nothing and that´s why she´s not even looking for me? Oh God I haven't thought about this."

Mom's eyes softened. "Then at least you had that one perfect night, and stop thinking like that, if you both had fun then she felt some connection too. But don't give up hope yet since you still have time there. Paris has a way of bringing people together. Just be glad that even if you meet again, you will never see each other after Paris."

We talked a bit more, her familiar voice comforting me. I asked how she was doing and told her I was ready to come back home again, because Paris gave me a taste of something I can't even have. After we hung up, I felt a bit better, though the ache of not seeing this woman lingered. My mom was right, we were never going to see each other again after here, so maybe not seeing her would not be bad after all.

As I lay in bed that night, the city sounds drifting up from the street below, I made a promise to myself. I would continue to enjoy my time in Paris, focus on my work, and let things unfold as they would. Also, I remembered that she said something about a coffee shop that had the best view. Maybe I should visit that place too before I went back home.

The following day, with my work commitments finally behind me, I decided to take some time to explore more Paris. I had always heard that the city was best experienced on foot, and I was eager to see for myself. I set out early, the morning air crisp and filled with the promise of adventure.

The city had a certain magic to it, a charm that was impossible to resist. As I walked through the bustling streets, I found myself marvelling at the beautiful architecture, the quaint cafés, and the street artists capturing the essence of Paris on their canvases. I was regretting not doing this earlier.

I found myself captivated by the effortless elegance of the Parisians. I stumbled upon a small bookshop and spent an hour browsing through old volumes, the scent of aged paper and ink enveloping me in a warm embrace.

I strolled through the Jardin des Tuileries, the lush greenery, and blooming flowers a stark contrast to the busy city around it. Children played by the fountains, and couples sat on benches, whispering sweet nothings to each other. I took a deep breath, savouring the scent of fresh flowers and the distant aroma of freshly baked pastries.

As the afternoon sun climbed higher, I made my way to the Eiffel Tower. The iconic structure loomed above me, more magnificent than I had imagined. I joined the throngs of tourists, snapping photos and soaking in the grandeur of the scene. Standing beneath the Eiffel Tower, I felt a sense of awe and wonder that made me fall in love with Paris all over again.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of my daydream. I glanced at the screen and saw a message from one of my colleagues.

Nick: “Hey! A few of us are going out for drinks tonight. Want to join?”

I stared at the message for a moment, weighing my options. The idea of socializing with my colleagues was appealing, but my heart wasn’t in it. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the woman I had met, and the thought of spending another night out, possibly meeting new people, felt like a good idea.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket without responding, deciding to think about it later. I continued my exploration, wandering through charming neighbourhoods and finding myself in little boutiques and patisseries, tasting delicious pastries and sipping on rich, aromatic coffee.

As the evening approached, I found myself meandering back towards my hotel. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light over the city. I felt a sense of contentment mixed with a lingering disappointment, still hoping for a chance encounter with the woman who had left such an impression on my mind. A small thought hit me that maybe I could distract myself by going out with my colleagues.

Passing by a flower stall, I decided to buy myself a bouquet of fresh flowers—vibrant peonies in shades of pink and white. The simple act of treating myself lifted my spirits as I strolled back to my hotel, the flowers in hand adding a splash of colour to my day.

Turning the corner to my hotel, I stopped in my tracks. Standing at the entrance, holding a single red rose, was the familiar figure I had been dreaming about all week. My heart skipped a beat, and a broad smile spread across my face. I couldn't help myself but smile.

She saw me and smiled back, her eyes lighting up with the same warmth and intensity I remembered. I walked towards her, feeling a mix of relief and excitement.

She looked up as I neared, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Hey." She said, holding a rose towards me. "Do I have competition?" she nodded toward the flowers in my hand.

I laughed, feeling a rush of joy. "Just a little something I got for myself. You're a hard woman to find, you know."

She stepped closer closing the gap between us, her expression softening. "You're not the easiest to track down in a city this big too."

I felt a flutter in my chest. "I was starting to think you were a beautiful made-up memory, something I imagined to make myself feel better because I got stood up by my blind date."

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving mine. "I assure you, I am very real." She reached out and pulled me into a tight hug, whispering in my ear, "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

The feel of her arms around me was comforting and thrilling all at once. I hugged her back, burying my face in her shoulder and inhaling her scent.

We pulled back slightly, our faces inches apart, and I could see the same longing in her eyes that I felt in my heart. "I've missed you," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I've missed you too, you kinda messed me up," she replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I'm sorry for showing up like this, I tried to remember your hotel name and when I got here, I didn't know your name, so I just waited."

I nodded, unable to stop smiling. "I hope you didn't wait long."

"I was going to wait 45 minutes to an hour, then after that I'd have known you stood me up." She joked and we both laughed since we knew exactly what the message behind that was.

"Shall we?" I asked, pointing inside the hotel. She looked hesitant for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. My heart sank, and I felt a wave of doubt wash over me. Had I misread the situation? Had I been too forward? I released her hand and took a step back, creating space between us, feeling a bit foolish. Why did I assume she wanted to possibly have sex?

"I'm sorry if that was too straightforward," I said, my voice tinged with embarrassment.

She shook her head quickly and took my hand again, squeezing it reassuringly. "No, it’s not that," she said, her eyes softening. "I actually thought we could go out and enjoy each other's company. There's plenty of time for us to come back here."

Relief washed over me, and I felt my heart lighten. "Oh, I see," I replied, smiling. "That sounds like a great idea."

We stepped out into the Parisian night again, this time with a sense of purpose and a shared excitement. She led me to a bar, where we found a cosy corner table. The atmosphere was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses.

"You know," she said, her eyes searching mine, "as sexy and mysterious as it is to be anonymous, I think it's also the reason we missed out on a whole week together. I'd like to know your name. I'd love to have your numbers so I can call you. If you don`t mind."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, and I realized she was right. For all the excitement and thrill of our anonymous encounters, there was something missing—the intimacy of knowing each other's names, of sharing our stories and our dreams. God! I was getting ahead of myself. What were the chances of us seeing each other again? I took the phone that she handed me and typed in my numbers before calling myself with her phone.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling my heart flutter a bit as I handed her the phone back. "My name is Lizzy, short for Elizabeth. What about you?"

She smiled, her eyes softening with affection. "It's nice to officially meet you, Lizzy. I'm Alex Mayer, short for Alexander."

As Alex and I sat together in the cosy corner of the bar, our hands intertwined, I couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of happiness that washed over me. After five days of uncertainty and longing, we were finally together again, and it felt like everything was falling into place.

"So, Alex," I began, a smile playing on my lips, "what have you been up to these past five days besides being miserable from missing me?"

She laughed, a melodic sound that filled the air around us. "Well, I won't lie and say I wasn't thinking about you constantly," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I did manage to keep myself busy. I explored more of Paris, visited some museums, and even took a day trip to Versailles."

I nodded, impressed by her adventurous spirit. "Sounds like you made the most of your time here. I wish I could say the same, but work had me."

Alex reached across the table, her fingers brushing lightly against my cheek. "Hey, you were busy with work. You can't blame yourself for that."

I smiled gratefully, feeling a warmth spread through me at her touch. "Thanks. But now that work is done, I plan on making up for lost time."

"Oh?" she said, a playful glint in her eye. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

I leaned in closer, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Well, for starters, I thought we could pick up where we left off."

Her gaze softened, and she reached up to cup my cheek, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

Before I could say another word, she closed the distance between us, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both familiar and electrifying. It was as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the two of us in our own little bubble of bliss.

As the kiss deepened, I felt a rush of emotion wash over me—a mixture of desire, longing, and a profound sense of connection. In that moment, I knew without a doubt that Alex was someone special, someone I wanted to explore this newfound lust with further. I knew I only had a few days here, which was probably why I was almost rushing her to my hotel, I didn't want to waste time. I wanted her in all sorts of ways.

When we finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, I looked into Alex's eyes and felt my heart swell with affection. "Did I tell you how glad I am that my blind date never showed up?" I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," she replied, her voice equally soft. "I could hug her right now, but this is so much better, I don't want to stop."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at her words. "Then don't."

With that, we leaned in for another kiss, our connection deepening with each passing moment. In that bar, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of Paris, we found something magical—an undeniable bond that neither time nor distance could break. And as we kissed, I knew that this was only the beginning of something extraordinary for me. I deep down knew it would kill me having to go back to South Africa and be far from her and possibly never see her again, but I wasn't going to stop myself from having fun because I was starting to like someone and how they kissed me.