The days leading up to the gala passed in a blur for Lily. Each moment seemed like a careful balance between excitement and dread, as though she was walking on a tightrope strung between the past and the future. The invitation was now tucked safely in her bag, a constant reminder of the decision she had made. She had chosen to go, but every step toward that night felt like a plunge into the unknown.
She spent the days leading up to the event preparing herself, but it wasn't the clothes or the makeup that occupied her thoughts—it was Henri. The man who had left her without a trace, the one who still haunted her dreams and her waking hours, was now waiting for her in the most opulent setting Paris had to offer. The thought of facing him made her stomach twist into knots, yet there was a strange pull, an undeniable force that drew her to him, even after all this time.
On the evening of the gala, Lily found herself standing in front of her mirror, the soft glow of the room casting shadows across her features. She wore a simple yet elegant dress—nothing too flashy, but it hugged her form in all the right places. Her hair cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle, as though she were trying to blend into the night while still standing out. She didn't want to make a statement; she just wanted to blend in with the crowd, to be unnoticed.
But that wasn't possible, was it? Not when Henri was there, waiting for her.
The gala was held in the Hôtel de Ville, a stunning building that looked like something out of a fairy tale. The moment Lily entered, she felt as though she had stepped into another world—a world filled with the glitter of champagne glasses, the rustle of silk gowns, and the low hum of quiet conversations. The high ceilings seemed to stretch forever, and the grand chandeliers above bathed everything in a golden light.
Lily's eyes scanned the room, her heart pounding as she searched for a familiar face. It didn't take long. There, standing near the entrance, was Henri.
He was just as she remembered—tall, dark, and impossibly handsome. His sharp jawline and intense gaze had always made her heart flutter, but tonight, they held something different. Something unreadable. As their eyes met across the room, the air between them seemed to crackle with tension, as though the years had never passed.
He didn't move at first, just stood there, watching her, as if trying to gauge whether she would come to him or walk away. Lily felt her legs go weak, but she knew there was no turning back now. She took a deep breath and began to make her way toward him, each step feeling like an eternity.
As she approached, Henri's expression softened, and he offered her a small, almost hesitant smile. "Lily," he said, his voice low and familiar. "You came."
Lily's breath caught in her throat, and she forced herself to smile back. "I didn't have much of a choice, did I?"
Henri chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. "I suppose not. But I'm glad you did. It's good to see you again."
Her pulse quickened, but she couldn't quite place the feeling. Was it anger? Relief? Perhaps a mixture of both. "It's been a long time, Henri," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Too long," he replied, his gaze never leaving hers. "I've thought about you every day since I left, Lily. I owe you an explanation, if you'll let me give it."
She swallowed hard. She wanted to hear him out. She needed to understand why he had left her, why he had disappeared without a word. But the memories—the hurt, the betrayal—still lingered, raw and fresh in her mind.
"Why did you leave?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Henri's face darkened, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and regret. "It wasn't what you think. I left to protect you, Lily. I thought if I stayed, I would only make things worse."
Lily shook her head. "You left me without a word. Without any explanation. How could you think that was protecting me?"
Henri reached out as if to touch her arm, but he stopped himself, his hand hovering in the air. "I'm sorry, Lily. I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I should have stayed. I should have told you the truth."
Lily's mind raced as she tried to process his words. The years of unanswered questions, the nights spent wondering if she had been abandoned for no reason at all, now seemed to hang in the balance. She had been angry, so angry at him for so long, but standing here now, looking into his eyes, she realized something: she wasn't sure if she still hated him.
"I don't know if I can forgive you," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "But I need to know everything. I need to understand."
Henri nodded, his eyes filled with something she couldn't quite decipher—hope, maybe, or perhaps fear. "I'll tell you everything, Lily. I promise."