“Yes, I love her very much.”
“She must love you. Pas de petit ami. Um, no boyfriend.”
“Really?” I asked as I watched Linnzi start down the cobbled walk.
“No. Never. It is as if she waits.”
I stepped out of my hiding place and took in the older woman. She was pretty, late fifties, maybe. “What do you mean?”
She gave me a knowing smile and then called for someone. A younger man walked over, maybe in his earlier twenties. She fired off rapid French to him as she pointed at me then over at Linnzi’s flat and then back at me. Even with how well Linnzi spoke French, I still had a hard time with it, especially when spoken fast. The young man smiled and nodded and then said, “Ahh.”
I lifted a brow as I watched them both. Then he walked closer to me and reached out his hand.
“I am John. This is my mother. She was trying to say that Linnzi, across the street. Her heart belongs to another.”
I felt my heart racing. “She’s dating someone?”
He laughed. “No. No. That is why she does not date. Um, how do you say, she has already given her heart to someone, she simply does not know who he is.”
This time I frowned as I looked between them. “What do you mean, she doesn’t know who he is?”
“She tell my mother she feels like her heart is missing someone. She has a great love but cannot remember him.”
It felt like every emotion rolled through me. Longing, sadness, excitement. Hope. Christ, it was all there in one ball.
“Elle rêve de lui,” he said with a smile.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means.”
“She dreams of him, this man she is missing.”
I swallowed hard and took a few steps back as he pointed at me and said, “You are him, no?”
With a nod of my head, I moved my focus back down the street where Linnzi had gone. “God, I hope so.”
He frowned.
I tried with all my might to pull up the little bit of French I knew. “Je l`espère. I hope so.”
He smiled then patted me on my arm. “Good luck, my friend.”
“Merci,” I said as I set off after Linnzi. I knew she was heading to work at the museum, so it wouldn’t be hard to catch up with her. I also knew I would plant my ass at a table outside the coffee shop across the street and wait for her. I always went to the same café during each visit, and every time the owner would smile and wave at me. This time was no different. I had already told her a shortened version of the story, and she found it terribly romantic. Her words not mine.
“Ah, Nolan! Comment avez-vous été?”
I kissed her once on each cheek. “I’ve been good. You?”
She waved her hand in the air. “Living.”
I laughed.
“Go. Go, I bring you café.”
“Thank you, Amélie.”
As I settled in and drank my coffee, I took in the people walking by. I loved Paris. I hated the reason I kept coming, but that didn’t deter my love for the city. My phone buzzed on the table, and I looked down to see Linnzi’s mother’s name.
I slid my finger over my phone to answer. “Hey, Amy.”
“Nolan, how are you?”
“Fine.”
“Liar,” she said with a weak laugh. “How does she look?”
“Good. She looks good. When are y’all planning on coming to visit her?”
She sighed. “Next month. When I talk to her on the phone, it breaks my heart. There are so many times I want to tell her, Nolan. I think it makes it harder that she doesn’t ask questions. Nothing. Never.”
I closed my eyes and remained silent. Not even breathing.
“Steve seems to know when I’m at my breaking point; he takes the phone away or turns the computer and starts talking to her.”
It was a few more seconds before I opened my eyes and released a breath. It was almost as if I felt her in that moment. I searched the windows of the museum, even though I couldn’t see anyone standing in them.
“I almost ran to her today, Amy. I came so close to calling out her name, but I can’t. I can’t make myself do that to her.”
“When? When is enough time, Nolan? It’s been five years and she hasn’t dated a single person.”
“There is a reason she’s blocking me from her memory still. She’s not ready to remember.”
Amy cursed. “Sometimes I wish I had never agreed to go along with this. I know it’s for the best, and I know it was the right thing, but at some point, Nolan, you’re going to have to give her the chance to remember. And the only way she’s going to do that is if you let her see you again.”
I reached up and scrubbed my hand down my face. “I know, Amy. I’m just so…”
“Scared.”
“Yes. What if she remembers and then hates me?”
“Oh, Nolan. Are you still blaming yourself for the accident?”
A gut-wrenching feeling hit me hard. “Yes! It was my fault.”
“It wasn’t!” Amy practically shouted. “It was an accident. Nolan, it was investigated, you were cleared. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
My breaths started to come faster and shorter. I couldn’t breathe. Fuck, I couldn’t breathe.
Amy’s voice was calm over the phone as she whispered my name. “Nolan, I want you to take in a deep breath.”
The air…it wasn’t coming. “Can’t. Breathe.”
“Listen to me, a deep breath in, and then out. Focus, Nolan.” Her voice was soft and steady. “In. Out.”
I closed my eyes and did as she said until the pressure on my chest eased and I could breathe freely once again.
Amélie ran out, and I held up my hand. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
She gave me a weak smile and then turned and went back into the coffee shop. I hadn’t had an episode like this since that day in the hospital.
“I’m sorry,” Amy whispered. “Does it happen often?”
“No,” I managed to get out. “It hasn’t happened since that day.”
“Nolan, will you please think of coming for Christmas? Please.”
Knowing damn well I had no intention of going back to Boerne for Christmas, I lied. “Yes, I’ll think about it.”
“Good,” she said, a hopeful sound to her voice. “And Nolan?”
“Yes?”
“Think about what I said, okay?”
I inhaled a deep breath through my nose. “I will.”
We ended the call after our goodbyes, and I once again looked up at the windows before I stood and walked back to the flat I had rented. Suddenly, I was so damn tired.
Linnzi
Paris, France — Five minutes earlier
I STARED DOWN at the man sitting outside the coffee shop. He looked agitated, and at one point, I swore he was having an anxiety attack. For some reason I had been drawn to the windows by the same kind of pull I had felt earlier when I first stepped out of my flat to leave for work. It was a similar feeling that happened every few months or so, like I was being watched. A strange tingle that went up and down my spine. It felt like someone was close by. Someone…important. It was the oddest damn thing.