Vanessa Yu's Magical Paris Tea Shop - Roselle Lim Page 0,86

Evelyn said to me.

Girard bent down and carefully gathered the fallen envelopes.

“So what now? What are you two going to do?” I asked her.

“I’m not sure yet, but whatever it is, it will be together. There’s much to talk about,” she confessed.

“I’ll let you do that then.” I excused myself and gave them their first moment of true privacy.

The blue butterflies clustered around the window as if they, too, wanted to shield the lovers from prying eyes.

There was no question I was happy for Aunt Evelyn, but I also missed Marc. There was room to feel both without invalidating either emotion. My aunt told me there was no cure for heartbreak if I didn’t want to let him go.

Seeing the city on my own seemed daunting and exhausting. I had planned on spending the day with my aunt, but that was no longer an option.

I sighed.

“Vanessa?”

I turned toward the voice. Girard stood beside me. “I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

He showed me one of the envelopes. “Evelyn and I figured you were responsible for mailing these.”

At the time, I didn’t think much of them because I’d been guided by an innate sense of duty. “I found them in the mailbox. I didn’t know they were written by my aunt or that they were meant for you.”

“I’d like to think that you were more involved than that.” He tucked the envelopes under his arm. “Evelyn and I reunited not because of fate, but from human intervention.”

“You don’t believe in destiny?”

“I do. Evelyn is my soul mate and my destiny, but regarding this, no. Our ability to control our fates is what makes life interesting. If everything had been predetermined, don’t you find the lack of free will disturbing?”

Girard’s philosophical side was in line with how Aunt Evelyn’s mind worked. I could imagine them having conversations stretching from dusk till dawn. Marc and I, instead, would be at the night market, eating our way through every stall.

“I don’t know if my aunt told you. I’ve never been one to listen to what I’m told unless I agree with it. I believe that we have the ability to shape our own lives.”

“To me,” he continued, “you are responsible for our happiness. You approached me at my office to advocate for your aunt. Combined with the letters, I see you as a most brilliant matchmaker.” He kissed the back of my hand. “Come to dinner at the restaurant tomorrow night with Evelyn. You are the first member of her family I have met. There’s much to talk about.”

I smiled. “I’d be delighted.”

Forty-Nine

With my aunt receiving her happy ending, I was more determined to get my own. Aunt Evelyn and Girard had left the shop together with my aunt telling me, “I have an important late engagement and will not be back until morning.” The giddiness she exhibited was infectious and made me excited about my own romantic future.

Tonight, I intended to see Marc after work.

I glanced at the antique French ormolu clock on the mantel. There was time for a decent nap before I went to see Marc at the restaurant. I wanted to see him and, according to his notes, he felt the same. Yet I shared Girard’s predicament, the need to see the proof of love for myself.

It wasn’t that I doubted Marc’s love; it was more that I wanted to see where this new relationship would lead. My aunt found her happily ever after. Why couldn’t I get mine too?

Hours later, after a languid nap, I left the apartment and headed for the restaurant. The time apart had increased my anticipation of seeing him. Under the streetlamps, I stood before the blue butterfly mosaic mural and waited. Girard’s love letter to my aunt, made of tile, brick, and mortar.

The restaurant was closed but I could still see the light from the kitchen through the dim windows. They must still be finishing up. I pulled out my phone and killed time until, at last, the lights turned off.

I lingered by the mural and peeked around the corner for anyone exiting the building. The pretty redhead who had escorted me to Girard’s office exited the front door, toting a heavy satchel. She was locking up. No one was with her.

Hoping she might remember me, I emerged from my hiding place and waved. “Hi, I’m looking for Marc.”

A flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes. “He is heading out the back. You can catch him around the corner. I think he’s going out with

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