Sparks - Wendy Higgins Page 0,93

I made a plate. Mini pastries of all kinds. A crusty baguette covered in a towel on a breadboard that you cut fresh yourself. Yogurts. Fresh fruits. Plates of cheeses and sliced meats. This was heaven for me. A woman came up and said, “Bonjour. Café?”

“Bonjour. Oui, s’il vous plaît,” I answered. “A latte?” She nodded, and I asked for a carafe of water, too.

As I sat down with everything, it felt beyond strange to be sitting there alone. I wanted so badly to have someone to talk to about all of it. “Isn’t this awesome?” “This is the best latte I’ve ever had.” “Even yogurt tastes better in France!”

I took a picture of my plate and latte and pondered why it was so hard to be alone. In particular, without a man. Even right now, I was itching to send this picture to Shawn and get his reaction. Why was I like this? Mom and Dad weren’t codependent. It was just my personality—something I had to deal with. As I sipped my latte I realized I’d stayed with Don far too long for this very reason. It was partly because I wanted to make everyone around me happy, and mostly because I didn’t think I could be whole without him. Being his girlfriend had become my identity. And now I was desperately searching for someone else to fill this hole and complete me again.

Silas’s words came back to me. You need to love yourself. And Rhea’s: No man defines you or your worth.

I clenched my teeth against a wave of emotion. Being a sensitive person, I’d always been called “too kind.” Those kinds of comments made me felt weak. Like my personality type was some sort of downfall. Like I wasn’t enough, and I needed to be taken care of. But that was bullshit. I liked who I was, and not everyone was going to understand me, but that was okay. I just needed to understand myself. As far as being too kind, I didn’t buy into that anymore. I did, however, need to do a better job of not letting people take advantage of me. I had to be my own advocate in all things. I had to be brave. I had to fall in love with myself before anything else in my life could align.

No looking online today. No texting anyone. I would give myself a complete day to myself and see how it felt. Adventure awaited.

I left the hotel, happy to see it was sunny today, though still very chilly. The metro station was close by. When I got down there, my nerves kicked in again. It was all overwhelming, people rushing by, signs everywhere in French. Thankfully the ticket machine had an English option. I recognized the name of the pass that Rhea had advised me to get and made my purchase, then followed the hoard of people and copied everything they did, being sure to keep my bag close to my chest and belly.

I had a moment of panic about which train to get on to get to The Louvre, but when I looked at the map I recalled Rhea pointing out landmarks and hints. You can do this. And what’s the worst that would happen? I’d go the wrong way and have to go back. So what? I was in no hurry.

I noticed guys looking at me now and then. I knew if I let myself smile and welcome a conversation, this could end up an entirely different trip. I could have sex and maybe a little romance in Paris. But I didn’t believe I’d find love, and that’s all I really wanted. So, when I caught eyes with a man, I smiled politely and went on my way. Someday maybe my hope for love would return. In the meantime, I needed to love myself again. That was the hard part.

When I made it to The Louvre I couldn’t stop smiling. It was absolutely massive, a series of gorgeous architecture spanning many, many blocks. The theme park of museums.

I made a beeline for the Mona Lisa, as did everyone else in the place. When I was finally in the same room as the famous painting, I had to laugh. I’d imagined a giant piece of art, but she was small. Pushing my way politely to the front, I snapped a picture, and then a quick selfie with her, all the while marveling at how this small painting had become so famous. She was