“Slow down,” she whispered. “I still haven’t wrapped my head around spending the next ten days without them.”
Her earnestness always touched him. “Ah, but Paris will be magic, remember?” Long walks along the Seine, sipping cafe au lait at a sidewalk cafe, and starry, starry nights. “I love those girls with all my heart, but Paris will always be ours.”
She leaned into the dance, rested her head on his shoulder again. “Paris will be ours,” she said. “Always and forever.”