𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 | 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

26

[ PARIS, FRANCE ]
JUNE 2021

IT WAS NEARLY midnight when Carlos returned to their shared hotel room. Reina sat awake on the bed, nervously waiting for him to return.

When he finally walked through the door, Reina stood up. "Where have you been?" she asked. "I was worried."

Carlos shrugged. "Out."

"Carlos, can we please talk?" Reina responded.

He sighed, sitting on the bed opposite from her.

"Carlos, I'm sorry for not telling you what happened sooner," began Reina. "But that day, I told Marcello that I wasn't interested. And that's because the only person who I can see myself with is you. And I'm sorry that I will have to continue working with him, but please, if you can, just trust that I will do what's right for both of us."

Carlos fiddled with his shirt. "I just... I hate to leave you so close with... him."

"Please, I hate being with him more than you do," she scoffed. "But Carlos... I..." she muttered.

He looked at her, his eyes puzzled, trying to figure out what she was stammering.

Reina gulped. She took a deep breath in and out. Louder and confidently, she said, "Carlos, I love you. And only you. I will never let anything ruin that, not if I can help it."

Carlos's eyes widened. Was he hearing things? Did Reina... love him? And in that moment, all of his worries washed away. This was the woman that was right for him—the woman he could trust. Even if he couldn't trust the rest of the world, he could trust her.

His lips came crashing onto hers. In between breathless kisses, he whispered back, "Te amo." (I love you)

Reina smiled. The two began to slowly undress each other, and only hours later did they fall asleep.

The next morning, Carlos was practically beside himself with joy. He woke Reina up bright and early, gently shaking her.

"Despierta, mi amor," he said. (Wake up, my love)

Reina, groggy, tired, and still naked under the sheets, muttered, "What?"

"I ordered us breakfast," he whispered in her ear.

Still in a zombie-like state, the idea of food seemed to wake Reina a little. Her eyes fluttered open, greeted by Carlos's own brown, round eyes.

"Good morning," Carlos sang.

Reina giggled. Rolling over, she got up. She headed over to the closet to grab a robe, and while throwing it on, she turned to face Carlos, wanting to ask what he ordered for breakfast. Instead, she was met with a dumbfounded expression—Carlos's eyes were glazed over, staring at her naked body.

"Hey! My eyes are up here," Reina joked.

Carlos blinked. He got up, embracing Reina. "Sorry, Rey, I can't help it. Not when you... you look that beautiful," he sighed.

Reina planted a kiss on his lips, then led him to the table he set up on the balcony. It was beautiful; the food looked delicious and was in view of the Eiffel Tower. The two had a wonderful time eating and talking in the most romantic city in the world.

After breakfast, Carlos led Reina from one spot to the next, wanting to show her everything that he enjoyed about Paris.

A few times Reina noticed people taking pictures of them, but she brushed it off. Carlos was well known—no doubt about it. There was nothing she could do about paparazzi, so she ignored it.