Page 52 of The Edge of Always

Chapter Fourteen

When it comes to Emmett, it’s hard to feel in any way neutral. In fact, there are so many emotions when it comes to him, all jumbled and confused. But one thing has remained true this whole entire time: I’ve missed him.

And today we get to spend the day together.

He’d told me not to have breakfast and to meet him at some café, which isn’t far from my hotel, at 10am. So that’s what I’m doing. I round the corner and spot the café. It’s on the edge of a tree-lined street, and it’s proper Paris. A red and white striped canopy reaches out from above the windows, giving some shade from the early September sun.

I’ve even forgone the headphones.

Emmett is there already, at a little round table just outside. Again, I’m struck by how far away from Northumberland Emmett this Paris Emmett is. It looks like he was born to be here, not some decrepit caravan with cardboard boxes for curtains. He’s wearing a soft grey T-shirt and dark jeans, and it’s not a combination that I am spiritually prepared for.

He stands up as I get nearer and puts down the newspaper he’s been reading. It’s in French and I’m thinking it’s going to take every ounce of my determination not to fall back in love with him by the end of breakfast.

‘Luna.’ Another smile. Those blasted teeth. ‘You look great.’

I mean, I’m happy with what I’m wearing. I have my denim cutoffs on and a white shirt with a big collar with red and pink flowers all over it. I love this shirt. But I don’t look neat and polished like Emmett. I’m crumpled and messy, every inch a woman who has a small cauldron in her bedroom and is allergic to ironing. I’m wearing so much statement jewellery that I’m weighed down by it. It’s a good job that I’m determined that I won’t fall in love with him in Paris, because chances are that I wouldn’t be new Emmett’s type at any rate.

‘Here, sit down.’ He pulls a chair away from the table for me and I sit. Last night felt weighty and heavy, and there’s still some of that between us this morning. But mostly, the new day has brought a freshness too, and I’m excited. Plus, when I checked this morning, The Art of Dying had over a hundred new followers.

I catch Emmett looking at me and tuck some hair behind my ear. Young Emmett was never still, he never stopped moving, like a ball of pent-up electricity, always ready to spark. Whereas older Emmett, he’s still all of the time. He’s assured in a way that seems so grown up.

‘There’s only a couple of things on the menu,’ he tells me. ‘But I think you’ll like what they’re offering.’

‘Okay, but remember, I’m paying.’

‘Fine.’ He smiles.

This had been agreed last night since he’d covered the cost of dinner. I hadn’t even seen how much it was, but the bill had come in a little velvet pouch, and the dramatic waiter had bowed when he presented it, so I know it was bad.

A waiter wearing skintight black jeans and a black tank top with sleeves of tattoos on his arms comes to take our order and I ask for the same as Emmett ordered. I heard croissant and chocolate so I figure I can’t go far wrong with that.

‘Where’s your hotel?’ I ask as the waiter leaves.

‘Just around the corner. It has a great pool.’

‘Wow, a pool. You’ve changed, Emmett,’ I say, looking at him over the top of my sunglasses.

‘I don’t have the things most people have to pay for. No house, no car. I help Mum and that’s about it.’

‘It’s good that she has you.’

He shrugs. ‘It’s just what you do.’

It isn’t what my family do, or did, not anyone except me and Mae, but still, I get it. It’s what you’re meant to do.

The waiter returns with a tray. It has two croissants on it and cups of what appears to be liquid chocolate. There’s another little dish too, this one with whipped cream. I watch, suddenly starving as he decants the cream on top of the hot chocolate. I am here for this entire process. Excellent Paris. Best city in the world.

‘Merci beaucoup,’ I say, diving straight in. ‘Oh my god,’ I say after a sip. ‘It’s like drinking chocolate.’ It reminds me of the Dairy Milk bars I used to hide in the sun to melt and then drink.

‘It is.’ Emmett rips off a bit of croissant and dips it under the cream.

‘Yes, I’ll do that too.’ I follow suit. ‘Wow, excellent, no notes.’

I continue to proclaim just how excellent my breakfast is while Emmett watches on with a kind of bemused smirk.

‘So you come here when you aren’t being a doctor? Or are you a doctor here?’

He shakes his head.