Will vacation love survive in the real world? Or will life be our undoing?
My French fling with Chris was only supposed to last two weeks…
I was bad at relationships, worse at love. So I was leaving it all behind—the French wine, the sunsets, the movie star romance. It was temporary. We were temporary. Happily ever afters didn’t happen in the real world.
At least not in mine. I had responsible schedules and life rules to obey. I was that girl.
Then Chris hopped on a plane and moved across the country for me. He threw out all my rules. Behind his hot-sexy-handsome was a man who was serious about love. He saw through my excuses and called me on my crap. And he only wanted me.
But when he got an offer he couldn’t refuse, he was back to his Hollywood lifestyle, and I was left texting across time zones and waiting for the occasional jet-lagged rendezvous. Maybe his panoramic views, personal assistants, and private planes were his real love.
I don’t always ask for what I want, and maybe that’s why I don’t get it. But this time I’m asking.
Even if it means risking it all.