The Stranger

"Isabella, Cafe blanc plat et danois au fromage à la crème!"

I perked up and stood up from my booth to go grab my order from the barista at the counter. For the first time since my arrival in France, I was enjoying some alone time, and it was honestly very much welcome.

It took some convincing for Henri to drop me off here in the city and go mind his business for a while, but once I reminded him that he had scheduled some time with his friends in a cigar lounge, he didn't think twice about letting me go. He deserved a good time off and my joy was uncontrollable when I finally saw him in a navy button up shirt and khaki chinos. It was the first time I saw him in more casual—albeit still dressy—clothing and it was marvelous. It was also the first time I saw his arms flex casually as he opened the car door for me.