We Will Always Have Paris

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Eating breakfast the next day, with the sun breaking through the high windows in the lobby, I told him the news I knew he feared to hear.

"I want to go home." I said it softly, so softly I wasn't sure if he had heard me. But he had. His fork froze halfway to his mouth, the little bit of egg fell off of it and he stared at me for a long time.

"Home to Boulder?" he asked, but he knew the truth; I had tasted all that I needed of American college life and I desired no more of it.

"Boulder is not my home." I stated, staring at my cold hashbrowns.

"So...back to Paris?" his voice trembled. Eyes pleading for me to change my mind. My mind was made, I missed Paris with an ache I never thought I would have.

"Yes. Paris." Gerald sighed, turned away with tears in his and nodded his head slowly. We didn't speak while we finished eating. He still held my hand as we went back to our room to pack. We made love quickly, his kisses were harsh and sad; mine were a promise of another day together.

Afterwards while we were packing he blurted, "I'll just go with you!" I blinked at him.

"You're doing a tour right now."

"I'll come afterwards. We can get an apartment with a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower and I can work there, with my muse, and we'll be together and happy. You can write, I'll sing. It'll be perfect Marilyn." he looked at me longingly, "Please say yes."

"Yes." I told him, a smile on my face and joy in my heart. Gerald kissed me sweetly.

We finished packing and headed out, I took my plane back to Colorado and Gerald took his New Zealand, his next tour spot. Once I landed in Colorado I got a text from Michael, Hey, I'm here to pick you up. Emilie sent me. I smiled, thinking of my friend in England who, like me, no longer wanted American living. But Emilie wanted Harry, and Harry was in England. I was making my homecoming alone.

I left the terminal at DIA and saw Michael leaning against his battered pickup truck, toothpick dangling from his lips.

"Hey Marilyn!"

"Bonjour Michael." I smiled, "You look very country today. What's the occasion?"

He grinned, "Cole met a girl who actually likes him. She told me that I could pass as a hick and I'm testing her theory." I laughed along with him as I hopped into the passenger seat.

"So who is this girl? What happened to Raya?"

"Funny story." he scratched at his red-ish beard, settling in to tell the tale. " Raya hooked up with a guy at a party, right? Well turns out the guy was a new professor. She's pregnant by him, supposedly, and so Cole broke up with her and for awhile she was with this other guy, not the professor, and then she ran off with her roommate."

"I thought he was gay."

"So did I." he laughed again, the rich sound filling the interior of his car, "You should leave more often Marilyn, all sorts of crazy things happen." He started the car and pulled forward.

"Actually, I'm going back to Paris."

"Ah, for how long?"

"Forever." the truck jerked to a stop. Michael turned his whole body towards me. His eyes were wide with surprise and sadness.

"What?"

"I miss my home Michael." I said it softly

He turned away and drove onward, not saying a word for a long time. Finally he asked, "But won't you miss Qdoba's? The sun on the Flat Irons?" he rambled on a list of other things strictly available to people in America. "...and won't you miss me?"

The way he said it startled me. He said it as if he was the only he was referring to. I had other friends at CU, but in that moment I saw Michael clearly for the first time. He was in love with me.

"I will miss you Michael. I will. You can visit. I can visit. It'll only be an ocean between us." he chuckled softly at that one. He pulled into a Qdoba's parking lot a little while later and ordered my favorite meal, a chicken quesadilla. I was stunned, not even Gerald knew what my favorite food was at different restaurants.

When we sat down to eat (Michael had two smothered burritos) I explained to him why I wanted to leave. He understood.

"We'll just have to go to Paris for spring break." he said happily as he snatched a quarter of my quesadilla.

"Hey!" I laughed as I slid him another section

"No, you'll make me fat!" he said, sliding it back.

"I'll be gone soon, nobody else will be stuffing you with food like I do."

"Parisians." he sighed and then we left the restaurant and drove on to Boulder.

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I submitted my withdrawal papers and returned to my room to pack. Emilie had packed before she left for London with Harry and all of her stuff was gone. It didn't take long before my life was packed up too. I pulled out my notebook from Jessie, suddenly feeling guilty as I thought about how I had treated him. All he wanted was someone to care about him, and I knew I wasn't the person, but I still felt bad. There were a lot of things I felt bad about.

Gerald had called at some point but I was too immersed in his songs to notice until he called again.

"Salute." I said

"Good evening Frenchie." there was a smile in his voice

"What are you up too?"

"I'm just now transferring flights so..." his voice faded out, "...call you."

"Nice. I'm at the dorm packing up."

"How'd you get home?" he asked

"Michael picked me up."

"Okay." then I heard his flight being called, "I have to go. I'll call you when I land. I love you."

"I love you." And then he was gone.

I sighed, put my phone down, and packed the last few items. My phone beeped again. This time it was Michael.

Where are you sleeping?

My bed I frowned at his question

Sleep in mine. For old times sake.

You won't make a move on me?

NEVER

I left my door only to smack into my neighbor, Jessie.

"Hey." he said surprised

"Hi." I said slightly breathless

He glanced into my room, "What are all the boxes for?"

"I'm leaving." His eyebrows rose

"Oh? Finally decided to run off with your rapper boyfriend?"

"No. I'm going back to Paris." He smirked

"America not good enough for ya?" he went into his room and slammed to door. So much for apologizing. I was just glad that he didn't ask why I had a blanket in my arms. I made my way to Michael's room and knocked softly.

Michael let me in and smiled warmly at me. "Cole's out with his new lady. The room's ours."

"Oh."

"Look Marilyn, I--"

"I know. Michael I know. Please do not say anything to make me feel like I'm cheating on Gerald. You and I are only friends."

His face fell. "I--okay. Okay." He took my hands in his, "But if you and Gerald ever break up, not that I want you to, I don't, but if you do, will you think of me?"

"Yes." I said immediately. "Of course I will. You're the only other one I would want." We climb into his bed and lay silent for a long time.

"Don't the French believe that having affairs is healthy?"

I kicked him in the shin. He yelped a curse. "I see your point." he said, "I'll keep that in mind until next time." we both giggled and lapsed into a peaceful slumber.