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A Kiss in Paris
Category: Romance
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The end.