He Said Wait Again And I Waited For The Plane To Paris Chapter 08

He Said Wait Again And I Waited For The Plane To Paris Chapter 08

Adrian didn’t go back.

He stayed in Paris, at a hotel directly across from my apartment building.

Like a stubborn ghost, he hovered at the edges of my life and refused to leave.

Every morning, when I left for the studio, I would see him standing on the corner.

He wore a thin trench coat and held a paper bag of warm breakfast, usually croissants from the bakery I used to love.

He didn’t dare come close. He only watched me from a distance, his eyes both pleading and greedy.

Once, it rained heavily in Paris.

I had not brought an umbrella, so I stood at the studio entrance and waited for the rain to stop.

A black car pulled up by the curb. Adrian got out with a black umbrella and hurried toward me.

One shoulder was already soaked.

“Evie, the rain is too heavy. Let me drive you home.”

He tilted the umbrella toward me, his voice careful and eager to please.

I looked at his pale face, damp from the rain.

“No need. I called a ride.”

“It can’t get down this alley,” he said quickly. “Don’t be stubborn about this. What if you catch a cold?”

As he spoke, a white car slowly drove into the alley and stopped in front of us.

The window rolled down.

It was Julian.

“Evie, get in.”

He opened a transparent umbrella and came over to meet me.

Adrian’s hand froze around the umbrella handle. He stared at Julian, his eyes nearly overflowing with jealousy and resentment.

“Evie, don’t get in his car.”

He suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

His grip was shockingly tight.

“Mr. Whitmore, let go of me,” I said coldly.

“I won’t!” Adrian’s eyes went red.

“You never used to get into another man’s car. And you’re allergic to seafood. The restaurant he took you to earlier is known for seafood.”

“He doesn’t know you at all.”

I yanked my hand free.

“Adrian, did you forget?”

I looked at him, my voice calm enough to be cruel.

“The day before I left, you personally brought home Vivian’s favorite clam sauce and ruined my breakfast with it.”

Adrian looked as if he had been struck by lightning. His whole body reeled.

The umbrella fell to the ground, and rain drenched him from head to toe.

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

The memory he had tried so hard to bury came back at that moment, sharper than any blade.

I turned and got into Julian’s car.

As the car pulled away, I saw Adrian in the rearview mirror, standing alone in the rain.

Like an abandoned stray.

Later, Sophie told me Adrian had fallen ill.

He had stood in the rain all night and come down with pneumonia. His fever would not go down.

“His assistant begged me to call you,” Sophie said with a sigh over the phone. “He said Adrian was delirious from the fever and kept calling your name.”

“Evie, do you want to go see him?”

I looked out the window at the Eiffel Tower.

“No.”

“Love that shows up too late isn’t worth a damn.”

One month later, my advanced program ended.

Julian proposed to me.

On a boat on the Seine, he knelt on one knee and took out a simple, elegant diamond ring.

“Evie, I know you’ve been hurt.”

“But I’m willing to spend the rest of my life helping you heal, little by little.”

“Will you give me that chance?”

I looked into his sincere eyes and nodded.

“Yes.”

When the wedding invitation was sent back home, Sophie said Adrian lost his mind.

He smashed up the south-side house that was supposed to be our first home together until it was nearly unrecognizable.

Then he locked himself inside for three whole days and nights.

When Mrs. Whitmore went to pound on the door, he screamed at her from inside.

“This is all your fault. If you hadn’t insisted on giving the bracelet to Vivian, Evie never would have left.”

“Give me my Evie back. Give her back to me.”

Like a madman, he searched through the wreckage for any sign that I had ever been there.

But he found nothing.

On the eve of my wedding, I received an unsigned package.

Inside was a thick diary.

The handwriting belonged to Adrian.