Paris The Memoir นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The grey skies continued to let down an endless drizzle, and I stared out the window for a moment, my expression flattening. I had left Paris for this. Paris, with its warmth and movement and life. Paris, where the air felt lighter and the nights carried a kind of energy that made everything seem possible. I had walked away from all of that for Richard… and somehow ended up here, stuck in a city that felt like it had been painted in shades of disappointment. The least both of them could have done was be worth it. But neither of them were. I took another sip of wine, then reached for my laptop and pulled it onto my lap, opening the folder I had been working on for weeks now.

I stood on the small stone bridge over the Seine, watching the water slide black and glossy beneath the arches, and I let the cold ground me the way nothing else could anymore. The city didn't care why I was here. That was the thing I loved about Paris. A million people rushing past with their own secrets, their own sins, and not one of them looking twice at the pregnant woman standing alone on a bridge at noon. I found comfort in being invisible. God knew I'd spent enough of my life being seen. A barge slid beneath me, its single running light cutting through the gray like a dying star. My breath came out in white plumes, and I pulled my coat tighter around my body, though I knew damn well

We laughed, took pictures, and for the first time in a long time, I felt alive. Paris was everything people said it was. A city of romance, of lights, of memories. The air was always soft and cold, filled with laughter from strangers who looked like they had no pain in their world. And somehow, I wanted to feel that too—just for a little while. But even paradise had ghosts.

And when he had finally inched his way inside of her … Furina shook her head as if that motion alone could wash away all the memories from last night. Looking down at her own body, Furina stared at her own nudity in pure terror. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at the man beside her. It was said that Paris was the city of love however no one told her that it could be a city of pure madness. Because that was all she could come up with as an excuse for her behavior. Evidently, she’d been careless and way more reckless that it was so out of her character. She didn’t have the bravery to take a peek under the duvet to see the evidence of her recklessness. Gosh, for one single night, she ha

Elizabeth's Point of View "Everything ready?" Black asked me as I snuggled my new puppy closer to my chest, feeling her little body warm and soft against my skin. It’s been a month now since we left everything behind and went on our little escape to Paris. The memories we made here were unlike any other, and I cherished each moment. The Eiffel Tower, the cafés, the romantic walks under the Parisian sky—it had all felt like a dream. But all good things must come to an end, and now, it was time to go home.

Paris held painful memories for her—both success and fear mixed together. “Will you go?” Mrs. Matilda asked as she poured the coffee calmly. “I don’t know,” Sophia said honestly. “Part of me wants to go. I haven’t done anything like this in months. But another part of me…” “Another part remembers what happened the last time you were in Paris,” Mrs. Matilda said softly. “That’s normal. But you can’t let painful memories stop you from living.”

Coming to Paris was great at first, but it turned out to be one of the worst decisions ever. The ride felt longer than it really was. I stared outside the window, my jaw clenched so hard that it hurt. Paris was supposed to be a distraction. An avenue to clear my mind from all the chaos, but instead, it dragged me deeper into the mud. The image of Madison in that lingerie made my skin crawl. Her smug look, her confidence that I’d give in to her — it all replayed like a bad movie in my head. I hated that I’d even given her a sliver of opportunity by walking into her hotel room.

I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach as I wondered if I had somehow missed something important. Paris took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her confession. "You were so drunk, and I was trying to take care of you. But you... you thought I was someone else, and you kept calling me by a different name," she explained, her voice trembling with the memory. "You were so insistent that you wanted to be with me, and I was afraid that if I rejected you, you'd get angry. So I..."...I let you think I was someone else," Paris finished quietly. "I knew you were too drunk to remember, so I figured it wouldn't matter. But I guess... I guess I should have said something sooner."

When she resumes her life, she begins to question why she was so unhappy in her marriage. Will her feelings change while she couldn't remember the past? Or do the secrets run deeper than she ever realized? ====================== Dear Readers, Good day! This is La Tigresa and I would like to thank you all for stopping by. This story is written in English. If you're a Filipino and wants to read the Tagalog version of the story, please search for Fragments of Memories 1: Married at Seventeen. The whole series talks about and focuses on self-love, self-worth and self-forgiveness that I hope you'd all be able to relate to and learn from it. Please also check out my other stories. :) Thank you in

So, she “Let’s get down.” Malachi’s voice came, and she looked at him, making a surprised-questioning sound, “hun?!” “Are we getting down here?” She asked. “Yeah.” “This is Brook’s restaurant.” She reminded him. “I know.” “It is the biggest restaurant in the city.” She worded. “Everyone knows that.” He shook his head. “Thing are very expensive here.” She said. “I know. Let’s just get down.” “Okay.”