by Ana Ashley
"Bien sûr."
"How did it feel when I said I wanted to go to New York?"
She stared out to the street through the glass windows and looked thoughtful for a moment before she sat down next to me putting her hands on top of mine.
"I was sad. All of your life it was always you, me, and then Audrey. When you wanted to go to New York I knew I couldn't make you stay. It was your destiny, and it was only a matter of time before you left. To be honest I'd been waiting for that to come for quite a long time, Jean-Paul."
I squeezed her hands. She'd known I would one day want to go to New York? How?
"How did you know?"
"Oh Jean-Paul, you've been in love with that boy since before you knew you liked boys." Her gaze was soft and all knowing.
"He was my best friend."
"Yes, at the time he was, but he became more, didn't he?"
she asked.
"Oui, Maman, he did."
She looked at the clock on the wall, "You're going to be late."
"I'll finish up here soon."
She got up to leave but I stopped her.
"Maman, thank you for all this. The room, the letters, everything."
She squeezed my hands. She knew everything I was thanking her for.
"Well, one thing's for sure, this apartment isn't going to be as quiet any more. And I’m really happy to have you closer to me for the next year."
I smiled, feeling lightness and heat radiating from my chest.
All of the letters, they told a story of growth, knowledge, exploration, conflict, fear, excitement, and love.
Those feelings would be present in my life forever, and would take different shapes as I grew older, that I knew, but I could still draw a line on the sand.
The line that would mark the life before Stephanie, and the life with Stephanie.
I started putting the letters neatly back in the box.
It was time to start the next part of the journey. My whole body tingled with excitement and I felt like jumping to burn the energy that suddenly rushed through my body.
When everything was tidy I got up to leave the room, picking up the box and looking around for any last minute adjustments.
I paused and looked again at the box in my hands. It belonged here, in this room. It had been here all those years ago that I read them for the first time, and also here that I’d written all the replies.
There was a space on the top shelf of the bookcase so I placed the box there and left the room.
My mom was waiting for me in the kitchen with a big smile on her face and a letter in her hand. When I saw it I stopped in my tracks.
It had been years since I received any correspondence of importance to my mom's address. I took the letter, feeling the thick and expensive looking envelope in my hands.
"Open it." Mom said.
"But what if..." I couldn't even finish my thought.
"Just open it!"
"Fine."
My hands shook as I opened the envelope and carefully took the letter out. My eyes zeroed in on the most important words.
"We wish to offer you a position of Head Chef Pâtissier at our Champs Élysées branch."
"Yes! Yes! I got it, Maman. I got the job!"
I couldn't believe it. I'd wanted to work in that same restaurant, where I'd tried my first macarons only aged ten, since I decided to study pâtisserie, and now I was going to not just work there but run it. This was the biggest opportunity of my career.
The moment I thought it my heart sank.
"What's the matter?" Mom asked.
"I can't accept it."
"Why not?"
"Because of Stephanie, Maman. I won't have time. Stephanie is more important than this."
"Jean-Paul, I am only going to say this once. You can do everything you want. You are determined enough to fight for it. You have plenty of support and you have me too. Go home and think it through before you make a decision, oui?"
"Oui, bien sûr, Maman."
I kissed her on the cheek and grabbed my coat to leave.
There was one more stop before I could go home.
11
Dorian
I looked at the clock on the wall and realized I didn't have much time left but there was something I wanted to look for inside the box.
I mentally calculated how much time I needed and ran to the master bedroom with the box in my hands.
The king size bed was perfect for it. I sat down and flipped the box's contents on top of the bed. So many letters, some inside envelopes, some loose, some in packs marking some kind of life event.
"There it is," I mumbled to myself.
When Jean-Paul moved in with me we didn't stop writing to each other, we simply changed from letters to sticky notes.
Everyday we exchanged multiple sticky notes. Sometimes, they were something as simple as saying when we'd be home or that we needed more milk, other times they were random thoughts.
My favorites were the full-blown conversations we'd have via post it notes.
The absolute highlight of my days was finding those sticky notes Jean-Paul left for me in the most random of places, and I loved doing the same to him.
When I was at work I'd wonder if he'd be up yet and had seen it on the bathroom mirror, or inside the fridge as he picked up the milk for his coffee.
I'd totally lived for those little messages, and even when I'd dated other guys, nothing made me happier than finding one of Jean-Paul's notes.
I'd kept all of them, stacking them in a way they were roughly in date order or by topic of discussion.
There were two sets of double doors in the bedroom right in front of the bed, leading to the garden and right in between them there was a wall that still remained empty of any photos. It was perfect for what I had in mind.
JP,
Are you free after work?
Meet me at O’Neill’s at 9.
D
___
D,
Kat is coming over to bake with me.
You may want to stay away for the afternoon.
JP
___
JP,
Those brownies were to die for.
I'm gonna marry you one day so I can eat them forever.
D
___
D,
What the hell are you on about?
Laura is so going to win ANTM!
JP
___
JP,
Venue: O'Neill's
Time: 8pm
Reason: Dorian's broken heart...again
:(
___
D,
Drink the orange juice and take the Advil.
I'll be back soon with ice cream and groceries.
We're staying in this weekend.
JP
___
JP,
Hope you know you're cooking tonight, again lol
And yes, I deserve it if I have to hear you talk about that asshole T.
D
___
D,
Ugh, sorry I was stuck at work last night.
I don't even want to talk about T. I'm done with him.
Can we have a night in? I'll cook.
JP
As I read the notes and stuck them in a pattern on the wall I felt my heart soar with happiness. That had been the start of a new chapter in our life in so many ways and it was all captured in those little notes, in my messy handwriting and Jean-Paul's freakishly neat one.
Baby,
:-D Fuck, I love calling you that.
I'm out to get us coffee and croissants (yeah, I know they won't be as good)
DO NOT leave the bed.
Love
D
I would never forget the day we finally admitted our feelings for each other. Seven years after our first kiss.
Now, looking back I wanted to shake my younger self. How had I not realized that we were both in love with each other?
Even when
we dated other guys, we still spent the majority of our free time with each other.
We travelled to Paris together to spend the holidays with Jean-Paul's mom, had my family round for dinner all the time and even my brother and sister seemed to enjoy hanging out with us. No wonder none of our relationships had succeeded.
That day Jean-Paul had come home from work as usual. As a chef he worked long hours and was always home late, but I'd gotten used to catching up with work while I waited for him.
"I don't want to talk about him, Dorian. He's a cheating bastard who doesn't even deserve us talking about him," he'd said as soon he walked in.
We'd ended up on the couch eating Chinese takeout and wondering why we never seemed to find nice guys. I knew why I hadn't found someone. There was only one person I wanted, Jean-Paul.
He was the only person I had the kind of connection, chemistry and intimacy I wanted from a partner. All the others were poor attempts at finding that when I needed to be physically close to someone.
"I just want a guy that I can talk to, who won't complain about my long hours, who will just get me. I want a guy like..." he'd paused and looked at me.
"Like?" I whispered.
During our conversation we'd ended up getting closer and closer to each other. I hadn't realized how close we really were until his face was mere inches from mine.
"Like you, Dorian." He'd said and then he moved forward to take my mouth in his.
I'd kissed him back fiercely, taking all I could because I wasn't sure it was real, that he really wanted me in the same way I wanted him.
12
Jean-Paul
My hands were shaking as I held up the key to open the front door of the town house we were going to call home for the next year.
I hung my coat on the hanger behind the door, remembering our first night in this house. The movers had been delayed because of bad weather, and we ended up in the big house with no furniture and only our suitcases with some clothes.
We'd gone out to buy a mattress and bed linen and spent our first night there eating Chinese takeout like we'd done that first night we were together years ago.
And just like that night we'd made love like nothing else in the world existed, except this time our moans of pleasure echoed around the empty room heightening our senses further.
I was certain there was no better sound than that of us together.
As I walked through the living room I looked at the fireplace decorated in green, red and gold, with fairy lights weaved through it giving it a magical feel.
Despite all the decorations we had around the house my favorite were the three stockings on the fireplace, the two big ones with a D and a JP on them and the little one in the middle with an S.
I heard light Christmas music coming from the bedroom so
I took the gift I’d bought earlier from the bag and walked toward the sound of Sinatra’s White Christmas.
I found my husband rocking gently to the music, staring at the wall in front of our bed. The wall that had been bare only this morning and was now full of sticky notes I recognized so well.
He turned to face me when he heard my footsteps and his smile took my breath away.
"What are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet at the center."
I walked into his arms and kissed him, loving that familiar feel of his soft lips on mine, and his strong arms around me.
"I was but... I spent the morning reading the letters you sent me since we first started corresponding, it brought back lots of memories."
Dorian pointed to the bed, and then the wall.
"What are the chances?" I chuckled.
"This is us, baby. We were never meant to be like anyone else." He said, stealing another kiss from me.
I took a step closer to the wall to read some of the notes. The first one I read made me laugh.
JP,
Did you know French fries aren't actually from France?
D
___
D,
Did you know hot dogs aren't actually American?
JP
___
JP,
Did you know the English invented French mustard?
D
___
D,
Did you know apple pie first appeared in a British cookbook?
JP
I laughed at the notes that went on and on stating all the things that people assumed about our countries.
D,
If you watch the next episode of ANTM before I get home I'm never going to make you brownies again.
JP
___
JP,
You wouldn't!!
D
___
D,
I would! Try me...
JP
Ahhh, the food wars when I threatened to stop making any kind of food Dorian liked so I could get my way.
JP,
I'm coming home early so we can spend the day together.
Be naked ;-)
D
___
D,
I love you.
That is all.
JP
And that was the most absolute truth.
"Do you think we were made for each other?" he asked in earnest.
"Dorian, look at all those letters, look at the sticky notes. Who else would ever get us?"
"Thank you for not giving up on me when you had the chance. I have forgiven myself for it but I will never stop making up for it."
I knew he wouldn’t, just like I would never stop telling him he had nothing to make up for.
"Dorian, I have a present for you. It was something I was thinking of giving you for Christmas but after today, reading all those letters, I don't know. it feels like this is the right moment."
I reached for the small box I'd laid on the bedside table and gave it to him.
13
Dorian
"Oh baby, you know you didn't have to give me anything,” I said.
"I know, you can repay me later," he winked.
I pulled one end of the red bow. It was silky smooth and expensive looking so I wondered what would be inside the box.
I gasped when opened it and saw inside, nestled on a bed of royal blue velvet a beautiful pen with the inscription "I will always read you."
Happy tears ran down my face.
"I will always read you too, baby," I said taking him in my arms again.
When I looked at the pen closely I noticed that there was a note sticking out from under the velvet. I pulled it out and unfolded the small piece of paper.
The neat handwriting was unmistakably Jean-Paul's.
He put his hands on my face so I could look into his beautiful dark brown eyes.
"Dorian, we are going to start a new chapter in our life. There will be challenges ahead but I wouldn't wish to do this with anyone else but you."
15 December 2018
Dear Dorian,
Twenty years ago a boy from Paris wrote a letter to a boy who lived in New York.
What started as a school project turned into a friendship that has survived distance, bereavement, and stubbornness.
That American boy became my best friend, the keeper of my secrets and eventually my heart.
The day I saw that boy for the first time the world as I knew it changed forever. My heart knew it, even if my mind hadn't caught up with it yet.
When our lips met for the first time it was like all the ingredients for the best recipe in the world were mixed to create something special and unique, just for me.
I have had many great experiences in my life but I always thought nothing would ever come as close to perfection as the day I married my best friend.
I was wrong. Today, the day we get to bring our baby daughter Stephanie home from the adoption center is definitely the best day of my life so far.
Dorian, never be afraid to use this pen to tell me what's in your heart, if you cannot say it out loud. Just like I will alw
ays love you with my heart, body and soul, I promise to always read you too.
Let's go get our baby daughter.
Your soul mate,
Jean-Paul
Thank you for my Finding You series. This series, as it was previously the Made in series, is what kickstarted my writing career so it will always have a special place in my heart.
I hope you enjoyed reading the stories as much as I loved writing them.
If you enjoyed reading the series, please take a moment to write a review on Amazon, Goodreads and Bookbub. If you leave a review David will bake you a dozen custard tarts and deliver them to your hotel when you next visit Lisbon. For real!
For giveaways, sneak peaks, ARC opportunities and general caffeinated fun times, please join my facebook group! Café RoMMance - Ana’s Reader Group.
Did you know I have a newsletter? Yup, I do, and I’m currently publishing a free MMM serial. Sign up to get all the up to date news and catch up with The Resort.
Ana’s VIP Readers - bit.ly/AnaAshleyVIP (with FREE newsletter serial, The Resort)
Also by Ana Ashley
CHESTER FALLS SERIES
How to Catch a Prince
How to Catch a Rival
How to Catch a Bodyguard
How to Catch a Bachelor
How to Catch a Bookworm - Short Story
NOW IN AUDIOBOOK
How to Catch a Prince
How to Catch a Rival
How to Catch a Bodyguard