Chapter Four

Sophie sat in front of her laptop, rereading Julien's message for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Good morning, Sophie. I thought of you when I opened the shop today. There's a little café next door that serves a perfect espresso; better than most in Paris. Would you like to join me there this Friday evening? Julien."

Her initial excitement was now laced with hesitation. What if this was moving too fast? What if Julien turned out to be just like Adrien; charming, sweet, and eventually uninterested? But as Camille often reminded her, overthinking was her kryptonite.

But yet, as Sophie typed out her response, a wave of unease crept in. A memory from the bookshop floated to the surface: the way Julien had hesitated when a young woman stopped by the counter to return a book. She'd smiled warmly at him, and while Julien had kept things professional, Sophie couldn't shake the feeling there was something unsaid between them.

Friday came faster than Sophie expected. She dressed in a flowing green dress. When she arrived at the café, her nerves began to fray, compromising her composure. Julien was already there. A warm smile spread across his face as he extended a welcoming wave.

 "You look beautiful," he said, pulling out her chair.

"Thank you," she replied, settling into her seat.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and Sophie began to relax. Julien shared stories about his favorite books and his childhood summers in the south of France, while Sophie spoke about her bakery dreams and her grandmother's recipes.

It was perfect…too perfect.

Toward the end of the evening, as they sipped the last of their espresso, Sophie brought what had been bothering her since her visit in the bookshop.

 "Julien," she started, her tone sounded carefully, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but... the other day at the bookshop, there was a woman who seemed familiar with you. She returned a book?"

Julien's expression faltered for a split second before he recovered. "Oh, that was Claire," he said, smiling faintly. "She's a friend. We've known each other for years now."

"Just a friend?" Sophie pressed gently, trying not to sound accusatory.

Julien hesitated, his eyes searching hers. "It's... complicated," he admitted. "We dated a long time ago, but it didn't work out. She's moved on, and so have I."

But the way he said it felt rehearsed, and Sophie's instincts kicked in. "Are you sure? Because I'm not looking to be someone's... means of distraction."

Julien leaned forward, his gaze earnest. "Come on…Sophie, I promise you, Claire is in the past. I wouldn't have asked you out if I wasn't serious about getting to know you."

Sophie wanted to believe him, but a small voice in the back of her mind still has that little doubt at least not after what happened to her with her ex. 

When they left the café, Julien suggested they take a walk along the Seine. The city sparkled under the moonlight, and for a while, Sophie let herself get lost in the romance of the moment.

They stopped at a small bridge, leaning against the railing as the river flowed beneath them.

"Paris really is magical, isn't it?" Julien said softly.

Sophie nodded, her heart was torn between hope and doubt. "It is."

Julien reached for her hand, and she let him take it, but the warmth she felt was tinged with unease.

"Sophie," he began, "I know we've just started getting to know each other, but I have to say... I feel like I've found something special with you."

Before Sophie could respond, a voice called out from behind them.

"Julien?"

They both turned to see a tall, striking woman standing a few feet away. It was Claire, the woman from the bookshop.

"Claire?" Julien said, his voice tense.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Claire said, her gaze shifting to Sophie. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

The awkward silence stretched between them before Claire added, "We should talk. Soon."

Julien nodded curtly. "I'll call you."

Sophie watched the exchange, her heart began to sink. As Claire walked away, Julien turned back to her, with an apologetic look on his face.

"Sophie, I can explain…"

"You don't have to," Sophie said, forcing a smile. "But I think I need some time to figure out where I stand in all of this."

Julien started to protest, but Sophie shook her head. "Goodnight, Julien."

As she walked away, the city lights blurred through her unshed tears. Maybe Camille was right about one thing; it was really just a numbers game. But Sophie wasn't sure how many more risks her heart could take. It might just be a numbers game but her emotions was on the line.

However, she didn't go straight to her apartment. Instead, she wandered aimlessly along the Seine, letting the cool night air clear her mind. And the romantic atmosphere of Paris, which was usually a source of comfort, felt ironic and almost mocking. Couples strolled hand in hand, laughter was echoing softly, while she grappled with the storm in her heart.

Perhaps I'm just overreacting? She said to herself…. Maybe Claire really was just a friend. 

By the time Sophie arrived at her apartment later that evening, her phone buzzed. She hesitated before glancing at the screen. It was a message from Julien:

"Sophie, I'm sorry about tonight. I understand if you're upset, but I really like you, and I don't want this to ruin what we're building. Please give me a chance, Can we talk? I owe you an explanation."

Sophie stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She wanted answers, but she wasn't sure she was ready to hear them. Instead of replying, she set the phone down and climbed into bed, her thoughts were swirling like a stormy sea.

The next morning, Camille was waiting at Café Belle, her usual place of refuge. Sophie arrived later than usual, her face was pale and drawn. Camille didn't need to ask what happened, she could read it all over her best friend's face.

"Uh-oh," Camille said, sliding a coffee across the table. "What did Julien do?"

Sophie recounted the events of the night, her voice was tinged with frustration and sadness. Camille listened intently, her expression growing darker with each word.

"So, this Claire just showed up out of nowhere?" Camille asked, leaning forward.

"Yes. And the way he reacted... it wasn't just casual. There's something there, he don't want to admit," Sophie said, picking at the edge of her croissant.

Camille nodded slowly. "I mean, it's Paris. Exes have a way of popping out of the blues here. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Sophie admitted. "He wants to talk, but what if it's just the usual; more drama? I don't want to get caught up in someone else's unresolved baggage."

"Fair," Camille said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "But what if he's being honest, and this Claire thing is really over? You like him, don't you?"

Sophie hesitated before nodding. "I do. But I can't ignore the red flags. I've been down this road before, Cam."

"True. But maybe give him a chance to explain. Worst case, you confirm your instincts and walk away. Best case, he clears everything up, and you move forward."

Sophie sighed. "I'll think about it."

That evening, Sophie finally responded to Julien's message:

"Let's talk. Tomorrow at 6 PM, Café Fleur."

His reply was almost instant: "Thank you. I'll see you there."