LOGINWe stepped out into the cool Parisian night, the city lights casting a romantic glow on the cobblestone streets. She slid her arm through mine, and the simple touch sent a shiver of excitement through me.
"So," she began, her voice light and teasing, "what's the most adventurous thing you've ever done?"
I thought for a moment, the warmth of her arm against mine making it hard to focus. God! How were we so comfortable with each other yet still strangers? "Well, I once took a spontaneous road trip across the country back home. No plans, no reservations, just me and the open road. But I guess I felt a little lost or out of place then."
"That sounds incredible, not the lost part, I hope you found your best version on that trip," she said, squeezing my arm gently. "I love that kind of freedom."
"What about you?" I asked, genuinely curious. "What's your most adventurous experience?"
"Besides coming to Paris on a whim and meeting a charming stranger?" she teased, her eyes sparkling.
I laughed, feeling more at ease with every step. "Yeah, besides that."
The way we were walking hand in hand you'd swear we knew each other or that we were here together. You couldn't tell that we had just met in there over an hour ago.
She thought for a moment, her expression playful. "I once rode my motorbike through the Alps. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. The views were breath-taking, but there were moments when I wasn't sure I'd make it through."
"That sounds incredible," I said, admiring her even more. "You're braver than I am."
"Maybe," she replied, her gaze softening. "But I think it takes a different kind of bravery to put yourself out there, like you did tonight."
That made me laugh because she had no idea that I didn't even want to be here, " actually, my mother convinced me to go out. She called me out for always being indoors and going out only with my colleagues. Told me that I'll probably never get a chance to come here again, so I should make the best of it. Even if it's sleeping with a stranger one time and never seeing them again."
She chucked, "your mother said that?"
"I can't put it right, but yes she meant exactly that. Sometimes I wonder who's the parent between me and her. But hey, I have to thank her today because now I'm taking a walk in Paris with a beautiful stranger."
She squeezed my hand as we walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, the night air filled with the distant sounds of the city. I felt an increasing desire to be closer to her, to feel her warmth and share more than just words.
As we turned a corner, she stopped and looked at me, her eyes full of an intensity that made my heart race. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
"I've been wanting to kiss you again since we left the bar," she confessed, her cheeks flushing slightly.
I felt a rush of heat and leaned in, unable to resist any longer. Our lips met again, this time with more urgency, the kiss deepening as our desire intensified. Her hand slid up to my neck, pulling me closer, and I wrapped my arms around her, losing myself in the moment.
When we finally pulled back, it was because of the sound her helmet made when it hit the ground. God it slipped off her hand. We were both of us were breathless. "I can't believe how much I want you right now," I admitted, my voice husky. If she was going to be direct, I could also be. I mean she was probably going to be my one night stand now.
"Me too. Same, same," she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the line of my jaw. She planted a small kiss on my jaw line before whispering, "so much."
We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms and kissing like there was no tomorrow, the rest of the world fading away. It felt like we were the only two people in Paris, and I wanted nothing more than to take her back to my hotel and see where this night could lead. Was I crazy? Yes! I could later blame my mother.
But just as I was about to suggest it, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen, her expression shifting from desire to frustration. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," she said, pulling away slightly and picking up her helmet.
She answered the call, her tone shifting to something more serious. I watched her, feeling a pang of disappointment as the magical moment was interrupted.
"Yes, I'm still out," she said into the phone, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of regret and longing. "Fine, I was lost but I can go back now. Yep, soon. okay then. "
She ended the call and sighed, turning back to me with an apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go. Something came up."
I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. "I understand. It’s okay."
She stepped closer and kissed me softly, a lingering goodbye that left me wanting more. "Tonight was incredible. I wish we had more time."
"Me too," I said, my heart aching a little. There goed my one night stand. "Maybe we can pick up where we left off another time?"
"I'd like that," she replied, her eyes sparkling with promise. "I'll find you, okay?" Then she kissed me again before letting go.
As she walked away, I watched her go, the night feeling a little colder without her already. Despite the abrupt end, I couldn't help but smile. The connection we had felt insane and intense, and I hoped this wouldn't be the last time we saw each other. For her, I would break my rules.
As I walked back to my hotel alone, the night's chill seeped into my bones, amplifying the sense of disappointment gnawing at me. Some reality settled in soon. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t gotten her number or even her name. The memory of her touch, her laughter, and the warmth of her kiss lingered, but it felt like a dream slipping away.
Back in my room, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The frustration of not being able to take her back with me, coupled with the realization that I might never see her again, weighed heavily on my mind. I pulled out my phone and decided to call the one person who always knew how to make me feel better, my mom.
I hit the video call button, and after a few rings, her cheerful face appeared on the screen. She was in the kitchen, her favourite place, and I could see her hands were covered in flour.
"Hey, sweetheart! How's Paris?" she asked first thing, a big smile on her face.
"Hi, Mom. Paris is... it's something," I said, trying to master some enthusiasm.
She raised an eyebrow, sensing my mood. "Uh-oh, what happened? You look like someone stole your croissant. Was the blind-date that horrible?"
I laughed despite myself. "Well, I got stood up by your blind date tonight."
Her face fell into a mock horror expression. "No! Who would dare stand up my beautiful daughter in the City of Love?"
"I know, right?" I said, rolling my eyes. "It was pretty embarrassing, sitting there for almost an hour, looking around like a lost puppy. I blame you for all this. If it wasn't for you, I'd have stayed here in my hotel and watch some movies."
"You cannot blame me for trying to spice up your boring life," she pointed out, her eyes twinkling. "But something must have happened if you just got back now. Why haven't you taken off your bra?"
I couldn't help but smile wider before laughing at the bra comment. I was about to ask how she knew that I just got home, but this was my mother. She knew me like the back of her hand. "Yeah, something did happen. After I realized I was stood up, this other woman came over. She thought I was someone else at first, but we ended up talking."
"Oh? Do tell!" Mom leaned closer to the screen; her curiosity piqued.
I told her everything, from our conversation to the first kiss in the bar. I didn't get into details about it because my mom was going to mock me about it later. As I spoke, I felt the excitement and happiness of the evening return, despite its abrupt end.
"She sounds amazing, am I going to get credit for letting you meet this woman?" Mom said when I finished, her expression thoughtful. "Also, do you think you’ll see her again?"
"I hope so," I admitted. "But I don’t have her number or even know her name. I just have to hope our paths cross again. And no mom, no credit for you because your date wasn't there."
"But I advised you to get out and you did. You ended up finding someone to make you smile. Which was my goal. So, this is all my doing."
I couldn't help but laugh at what she was saying. Even if I could loudly tell her she had nothing to do with this, truth was she kind of did have everything to do with it. If she hadn't suggested I go on out, I'd have never met the beautiful stranger.
"I'm like the love guru or something." She kept going making me laugh even more. "Okay, you can take some credit for this. If it weren't for you pushing me to go out, I would have spent the night in my room, sulking."
"Exactly," she said with a triumphant grin. "Just remember, life's too short to play it safe all the time. Live your life my child."
"Thanks, Mom," I said, feeling genuinely grateful. But then I remembered something about the mysterious woman, she looked a bit older than me. I mean she was sexy and she took care of herself but she definitely was not 29 years old like me, worse since she said she has lived in the US for 30 years. So, I decided to give my mom a little bit of a heart attack, "Oh mom, she's actually 40 years old."
I watched as my mom almost dropped the phone, I could see the shock on her face, "what?"
I laughed, "I just had to mention the age in case she was older. I don’t know how old she is, I just said 40 to give you a heart attack or just to make sure that you don't get shocked if she's that old."
She rolled her eyes, "will see who your cheerleader will be when I'm gone."
Oh my God! I forgot she was dramatic, "I am so sorry mother. I love you so much and please don't be gone. We both know you always know how to make me feel better."
"That's my job," she replied more seriously, brushing flour off her hands. "Now, promise me you won't give up. Paris is a big city, but if it's meant to be, you will find each other again. Or find someone else."
"I promise not to run to every woman I see." I said laughing. "And thanks for listening. You always know what to say."
"That's because I know you so well," she said with a wink. "Now, get some rest. You have more adventures waiting for you tomorrow."
We said our goodbyes, and I ended the call feeling lighter. Despite the disappointment, the night had held a spark of something special, and my mom’s words gave me hope that it wasn't the end.
As I drifted off to sleep, I replayed the evening in my mind, focusing on the way she made me feel—giddy, excited, and alive. I knew that no matter what happened next, I wanted to see that stranger again and do more than just kiss her this time.
Starting the new week, I threw myself into work, trying to focus on my tasks and keep busy. Between meetings and projects, I texted my best friend and my mom, keeping up with the usual banter that made the day go by a little faster. But by Wednesday, a nagging thought settled in—Alex hadn’t responded to my message. In fact, she hadn’t even read it since I sent it on Sunday.I couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong. Had I come off too strong? Or maybe something had happened that was keeping her from reaching out. I wanted to see her, to check in, but I knew showing up at my mom’s house in the middle of the week without a good reason would look suspicious, maybe even desperate.So, I decided to text my mom instead, hoping to get some indirect information about Alex without giving away too much. I asked her casually about her week, trying to keep the conversation light. But when her reply came, it shocked me to my core:Mom Dearest: I have been alone in the house this week, so I’m being
I was woken up by a slight knock on my door. For a moment, I had no idea where I was until I remembered I was at home. Then it all came flooding back: the kiss with Alex on the couch downstairs after my mother went to bed, how we had held each other, talked softly, and shared dreams until sleep overtook us. A smile crept onto my face, and I bit my lower lip, relishing the memory.The knock on the door brought me back to reality, and the door suddenly opened. I jumped up in bed. "Mom!?"My mother smiled apologetically. "Sorry, honey. I made breakfast for us. Wanna join me?"I furrowed my brows. "Just us?"She nodded. "Yes, just us."I went to the bathroom to do my morning routine, feeling a pang of disappointment that Alex wouldn't be joining us. I laughed at what I sounded like. Just last week, I would have given anything for time alone with my mother, but today I was sad that Alex wasn't there. It was funny how quickly things changed. I headed downstairs to join my mom.The dining ta
I loaded the dishwasher slowly, my eyes fixed on my mother and Alex. They were laughing at something on my mother's phone, completely engrossed in their shared moment. My mother rested her hand over Alex's shoulder and said, "It was really funny."I watched as Alex cleared her throat and then stood up. "Maybe we should help her in the kitchen," she suggested.My mother snorted. "What is she? 6?""With how you yelled at her when I first arrived, she might as well be 5," Alex said, taking the rest of the dishes and walking to the kitchen. She handed me the dishes, making sure our hands touched. "Here. Do you need help?"I smiled and decided to joke. "What am I? 6?"Alex turned to look at my mother and then took a step closer to me, leaning in to whisper, "don't you dare, last I checked you were 29 charming a 48-year-old?"The proximity of Alex, her warm breath against my ear, sent a shiver down my spine. My heart fluttered, caught between the playful banter and the deeper, unspoken conn
I couldn't stop thinking about what my mother had advised me. Life was about taking chances, and how would I know if something was worth it without giving it a try? I wasn’t confused about how I felt; I knew I wanted Alex in more ways than one. The problem was that my mother also had feelings for her and seemed to be giving her time to heal. How could I follow my heart when it led me to someone my mother loved too? I needed to know more about their breakup, if there was a chance they could rekindle their relationship. The thought of finding out the truth made me uneasy.I tried to take it easy as the new week unfolded. The weather was good, no rain to deal with, which made everything a little easier. I planned on going back home this weekend to ask my mother why she and Alex broke up. I needed to know if there was any chance of them getting back together.By Saturday afternoon, I was driving to my mom's place, hoping to get some answers.When I got inside, the house was quiet. My mom'
I sat on my couch, staring out the open window. The rain poured down relentlessly, a constant patter against the glass. What the fuck just happened? Did I hear everything right, or was I out of my mind? Alex had told me she wanted me, that she couldn’t stop thinking about me all this time, that she probably called my name during sex with her fiancée. That we can't push Paris under the carpet.It all seemed so surreal, so crazy.I got up and picked up my phone, noticing three missed calls from Lena. She was probably worried because of the message I left earlier. I sighed before I decided to go to bed, promising myself that this week, I would focus solely on work.The days dragged on, the weather refusing to improve. Grey skies and endless rain mirrored the storm inside my mind. I buried myself in work, taking on extra tasks and bringing projects home, hoping the distraction would help. And for a while, it did. The steady rhythm of work provided a temporary escape from the chaos of my t
On Monday, I was grateful to be back at work. I needed to focus on something, anything, that wasn't Alex or Paris. The weekend felt like an awful nightmare, with the disturbing realization that my mother's ex was the same woman who had taken a piece of me in Paris. And despite everything, I still felt something when my eyes landed on Alex, worse when she tried to touch me, which made me furious. I didn't want to feel anything for her. I just wanted to move on and live my life.Finding out that Alex had ended a twelve-year relationship cut deeper. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had something to do with that. Or maybe the other girl she hooked up with after meeting me. Again, Alex had cried in Paris after we made love. You don't just cry after an orgasm unless something profound has happened. And then there was that text where she said she felt everything in Paris the same way I did. Did that mean something?Today was raining, a true December downpour. Normally, I disliked the rain







