turning down dark gray streets, I reach across the seat and take Lars’s hand again. He doesn't say anything, but he does wrap my small hand in his big one, squeezing and reassuring me. We get out of the car at the address that Stella gave me.
It's in a nondescript part of the outskirts of Paris, on a block where there are a few little shops on the side. Lars points to the shop that obviously has a giant coffee cup on the window. I think that's the spot we're looking for.
I stand in the street, staring at the coffee shop for a few seconds. Someone on a Vespa honks their horn at me, startling me into motion. Lars leads the way across the street and into the shop.
From outside, I can see Stella perched by the window. Her halo of red curls is on full display as we walk in the door. The coffee shop she's chosen is very small and she's essentially the only customer. She is sitting with a cup of coffee, nervously jiggling her crossed legs. She looks up and our gazes connect.
The fact that I ever doubted that she might be my sister is immediately erased from my mind. She has the same blue eyes that she did when we were kids, the same earnest stare. She stands up, nervously running her hands over her light blue sweater and tucking her hair behind her ear.
Lars steps forward, stretching his hand out to Stella. “Bonjour,” he says. “I'm Lars.”
He uses a hand on the small of my back to propel me forward, so I stick my hand out too, still nervous that my little sister might judge me poorly. She grips my hand and blushes, obviously fairly nervous herself.
When she lets go, she motions to the service counter. “Would you like something to drink?”
The fact that she just offered to buy two of Europe's richest people coffee is not missed by me. I blush and turned to Lars, that he is already waving me down. “I'll get it. You just sit down.”
Stella takes her seat back, leaving three padded chairs facing her in a loose semi-circle to choose from.
I take the closest one, feeling like I have so many questions and so many apologies to make that I don't even know where to begin. Stella pulls out a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and perches them on her nose, wrinkling her face daintily.
“So…” I start, clearing my throat.
She surprises me by leaning over, touching my hand, and looking at me very directly. “You don't have to be nervous. You don't have to explain anything or apologize for anything. I just want to know what's going on in your life, that's all. I hope that's okay.”
I'm instantly overwhelmed, my eyes filling with tears. I glance at her as I wipe away tears from my face, trying to find the words for exactly what I need to say to her.
“I know you said that you don't need me to apologize. But I am sorry. I'm sorry that I ever let you go.”
She smiles a little bit, but her eyes are emotional. “I wish that we had never been separated. I wish that our father hadn't done what he did. But that's not really important, is it? All we can do is try to be better moving forward.”
She glances down at my hand, raising a brow. “Are you married now?”
I nod a little. “Lars and I got married two months ago in a private ceremony. Just friends and family, you know. I wish… I wish that you had been there. But I understand why you said no to my invitation.”
Her cheeks go pink. “It was just bad timing. I have my big move from Nantes to Paris and I was literally in the middle of that. And let’s be honest, I was nervous, too. I'm sorry about it, for what it's worth.”
I clench her fingers, smiling. “I'm glad to see you in person. There's so much I want to get off my chest and clear my head before the baby comes.”
Her brows shoot up. “You're expecting?”
I nod. “Yes. I'm due in about five months. It's going to be a girl.”
She bites her lower lip. “Can I… Would it be okay if I were a part of you and the baby’s life?”
Tears brim in my eyes again. I’m hoarse as I answer. “Of course. I would love that.”
She bites her lower lip. “I want to hug you.”
I nod vigorously and throw my arms open wide. She comes in and hugs me, her body feeling so strange and yet so familiar all at once.
“We have so much catching up to do,” I whisper into her hair.
She pulls back, wiping her eyes, and nods. “I'm going to go get another cup of coffee and then we can really drill down on everything that we've missed. Okay?”
“Okay,” I answer. “I can't wait.”
As she leaves, Lars steps into the circle, holding two steaming cups. He glances backward over his shoulder at Stella. “Is everything okay?”
After he sets the steaming cups down, I grab his shirt and pull him in for a kiss. He goes along with that, clearly not about to resist me. When he pulls away, he cocks a single brow.
“What was that for?”
“Just a way of saying thank you. Thank you for pushing me to do this. I'm so happy to see my sister and I know that without you, I would've been too afraid.”
He crouches down next to me, cupping my jaw in his hand. “You are very welcome, little witch. And remember…” He looks at me, his eyes scanning my face. “I love you.”
I grin, kissing him, knowing that I always have him at my back and on my side. No matter what, forever.
THE END
About Vivian Wood
Vivian likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.
Vivian's lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: "Soulmates never die."
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Vivian’s Works
The Prince and His Rebel
The Wicked Prince
His Forbidden Princess
Royal Fake Fiancé (Winter 2020)
Same World, Different Characters…
Sinful Fling
Sinful Enemy
Sinful Boss
Sinful Chance
Sinful Teacher (2021)
His Best Friend’s Little Sister
His Innocent Fake Fiancée
Her Off Limits Best Friend
Her Off Limits Dirty Boss
Wild Hearts
Addiction
Obsession
For more information….
vivian-wood.com